Reckless {HS}

eleven

Delilah's Pov

It all happened so fast.

One second, I was standing on the edge of the rooftop, trying to breathe in the night air to calm my mind, and the next, I was spinning, slipping, and falling. My heart lurched into my throat, and for a brief moment, I thought that was it. I thought I was going to fall. Then, just as the ground seemed to pull me toward it, a hand—strong and unyielding—gripped my arm and yanked me back to safety.

I crashed into him, my body colliding with his, his presence overwhelming every sense I had. The cool night air seemed to vanish as I felt his warmth, the solidness of him grounding me in a way that sent my already racing heart into overdrive.

His hand was still wrapped around my arm, his grip firm but gentle, like he knew exactly how close I had come to going over. I was breathing hard, struggling to gather myself, when I finally looked up and saw him. My stomach dropped. Those eyes. Those piercing green eyes that had haunted my thoughts for the past year.

I blinked, trying to make sense of the face staring back at me, but I couldn't. My mind was racing, fragments of that day at the bank rushing to the surface. The robbery, the masked men, and those eyes—his eyes—burning into me from behind a bandana. I remembered the way I had felt, frozen and terrified, but unable to look away from him even then.

And now here he was, standing right in front of me, holding me like it was nothing. I felt a strange mix of fear, confusion, and something else I couldn't quite place. My legs were trembling, my body feeling weak from the shock of almost falling. But it wasn't just that. It was him.

He was so close, too close, and the intensity in his eyes made me feel like I was being pulled into something dangerous—something I didn't understand.

"Who are you?" I whispered, my voice shaky and barely audible.

He didn't let go, didn't back away. He just stared at me, his face unreadable, and then he leaned in slightly, his voice low and almost... knowing.

"You're a smart girl, Delilah. You'll figure it out."

The way he said my name—it sent a shiver down my spine. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of it loud in my ears. Figure it out? My brain was trying to catch up with what was happening, but I couldn't think straight. The realization that he knew who I was, that he had been following me—watching me—was too much.

I should've said something else, asked him more, pushed for answers, but I couldn't. His words echoed in my head, making everything else blur into static. He knew me. How did he know me? Why was he here?

I suddenly felt sick, my stomach twisting as the panic set in. My mind was spinning, racing through a hundred different thoughts at once, none of them making sense. I needed to get away. I needed to breathe.

I took a step back, my eyes still locked on his, searching for something—some explanation, some reason that made sense—but all I found was that same intensity that had terrified me a year ago. That same look, like he knew something I didn't.

Run.

The word screamed in my mind, and before I knew it, my body acted on instinct. I tore myself away from him, my feet stumbling backward as I turned and bolted for the door. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, my breath coming out in shallow gasps as I ran.

I didn't look back. I couldn't. My feet carried me down the stairs two at a time, my mind racing faster than my body, fragments of thoughts flashing through my head like lightning. Who is he? Why was he there? What did he want?

He knows me. He knows who I am. He's been watching me.

I nearly tripped on the last step, catching myself on the railing as I hit the ground floor. The air inside the building felt thick, suffocating, and I couldn't get it into my lungs fast enough. My hands shook as I fumbled with the door, pushing it open and stumbling into the night.

I didn't stop running.

I couldn't.

Every step felt like I was trying to outrun the questions swarming my mind, but they kept coming, faster and faster, crashing over me in waves. He was there, at the bank. I had seen those eyes before, and there was no mistaking them. But why was he here tonight?

Everything about it felt wrong, like I had walked into some kind of twisted game without knowing the rules. My chest was tight, and my legs were burning, but I didn't stop. The night air was cool against my face, but it wasn't enough to calm the panic rising inside me.

I kept running, even when I didn't know where I was going. Even when I had no idea how to stop.

Finally, when I couldn't go any farther, I collapsed against a wall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I pressed my back against the cool brick, my hands shaking as I tried to steady myself. My mind wouldn't stop racing, wouldn't stop replaying the moment on that rooftop, his voice in my head.

You'll figure it out.

But I didn't want to figure it out. I didn't want any of this. I had spent the last year trying to forget, trying to move on from that terrifying day at the bank, and now it was like the past was chasing me down, refusing to let me go.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall, feeling the weight of it all crash down on me. Who was he? What did he want from me? And why couldn't I stop thinking about him?

I didn't know the answers yet, but I knew one thing for certain.

I wasn't running from him.

Not anymore.