W A N T E D

24 | Who Are You?

Zoe POV

Pain is the first thing I register.

It's not a simple ache or dull throb. It's deep, burning, like someone's dragging a hot blade through my stomach. I try to breathe, but my ribs protest, tight and unyielding. My fingers twitch against stiff sheets, the rough fabric grounding me in a reality I don't want to wake up to.

The beeping of machines is too loud, too steady. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, stinging my nose. I don't need to open my eyes to know where I am.

I'm still alive.

But I don't move. My body screams at me to stay still, to not let on that I'm awake. Then, I hear it—low, irritated, like the person doesn't even care if I hear them or not.

"Always fucking things up."

The voice is sharp, laced with frustration. My stomach twists, though I don't know if it's from the pain or something worse.

"You have no idea what you're up against," he mutters. "I set things up, and then you come along and wreck it. Every damn time." A quiet scoff. "Actions have consequences, you know. And you just keep making enemies."

My pulse spikes, but I don't react. His words cut deeper than I want to admit.

"You're a pain in the ass," he continues, voice colder now. "Unpredictable. Reckless. Your mouth is gonna get you killed one day."

I force myself to stay still, even as the ache in my stomach pulses sharper. The weight of his words presses down on me, thick with something that feels too much like warning.

Then, softer—like he's almost amused by it, like he already knows how this ends.

"You don't get to fuck with my plans without consequences." A pause. "Watch your fucking back."

My mind takes off before I can stop it, thoughts colliding, tumbling over each other too fast to hold onto. The steady beeping of machines, the too-clean smell of antiseptic, the sterile white walls—it all presses in at once. Hospitals. I hate hospitals.

But that's not what's making my pulse climb.

Who the hell was that?

The voice lingers in my head, sharp and edged with something unreadable. Watch your fucking back. The words coil tight around my ribs. A threat? A warning? A promise?

What does he want with me?

I grip the blanket, fingers curling into the fabric. He was pissed—like I'd ruined something, like I'd stepped into something I wasn't supposed to. But what? What did I do to make myself his problem?

I push past the unease prickling under my skin, forcing my thoughts forward. Where is everyone?

Jade.

A tightness spreads through my chest. Is she okay? Did they drag her back? Did she get away?

I shift, trying to sit up, but pain rips through me, white-hot and unforgiving. A sharp breath hisses through my teeth as I freeze. Every movement sends another wave crashing through me, locking me in place.

I hate this. The weakness, the stillness. Being stuck in this bed while everything outside this room keeps moving.

I need to get out of here.

The door creaks open, and my whole body tenses.

A woman steps inside, her scrubs a soft blue, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees me awake. "Oh! You're up," she says, recovering quickly with a bright smile. "That's great! How are you feeling?"