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Thank you for reaching this far. please leave your amazing reviews, likes and gems. and lemme know what you love about the story! âŁïžJDâs POV : The apartment door slammed so hard behind me that it rattled the framed photos in the hallway. I kicked off my boots with force, one flying sideways into the kitchen. My jacket hit the floor next. âRelieved?â I snarled in disbelief. âRelieved she died?â I grabbed the nearest thingâan empty glass bottle off the counterâand hurled it at the far wall. It exploded with a crash, shards scattering across the tile. My chest heaved. That bitch had smiled when she said it. Smiled like she hadnât just pissed on Callaâs memoryâlike she hadnât just stabbed me right through the ribs. âI loved her,â I whispered, hands clenched at my sides. âAnd youâyou never even tried to understand her. You hated her because she lit up rooms you couldnât own.â My fingers shook as I knocked a stack of sketchbooks off the dining table. Pages fluttered everywhereâdesigns sheâd been working on for weeks. A half-finished portrait of Callaâs face skidded across the floor. I stopped painting
JD's POV: The steady buzz of the tattoo machine was the only sound I trusted anymore. It was my rhythm, my mantra. Like a heartbeat I could control, unlike the erratic, fucked-up one inside my chest. I leaned over the clientâs arm, eyes locked in, needle dancing into skin with practiced ease. The design was customâa serpentine dragon wrapped around a shattered sword. âAlmost done,â I murmured to the client, wiping down the linework. âDonât squirm, or your dragonâs gonna end up lookinâ like a lizard on crack.â I loved tattoos since I was a kidâsneaking markers from school to draw on my arms when her foster mom wasnât looking While the other girls dreamt of wedding dresses and sweet sixteens, I had flipped through biker magazines and tattoo catalogs, tracing skulls and roses on the walls of my bedroom. It was my whole damn soul and when I finally could, I got sleeves of tattoos, piercings and opened my flourishing tattoo shop. The guy finally chuckled nervously. âYouâr
General POV:Night eventually draped the forest. The only sounds were the occasional snap of branches in the distance and the soft crackle of their fire, slowly dying down to glowing embers. Calla had curled up in her hoodie, using her backpack as a makeshift pillow. Madden sat upright for a while, eyes alert in the dark, listening for anything that didnât belong. He couldn't sleep yet though.Eventually, fatigue won out and he lay back on the other side of the fire, arms folded beneath his head as he drifted off. Sometime in the middle of the night, he stirred, waking up to see Calla curled up beside him for warmth.Her head was resting just under his arm and one hand gently pressed to his chest. His muscles tensed automatically⊠but he didnât move, staring at her peaceful face.Madden let out a slow, barely audible breath then closed his eyes again, letting her sleep there.**MORNING⊠Callaâs eyes fluttered open and widened almost immediately when she realized she was on him.
General POV:Whatever it was, it moved off.The snapping branches faded into distant rustlesâfirst left, then behind them, then silence. But it wasnât the peaceful kind of silence. It was tense which caused every part of Calla's body to tremble with dread of the unknown.It's so scary when you don't know what's out there.Madden stood completely still, eyes locked on the treeline, not completely convinced that it was gone. Calla clutched his arm. âIs it gone?âHe didnât answer right away. After a long moment, he reached into the small hiking bag strapped to his side and pulled out his phone. No service, of course.But he opened his offline browser anyway and searched through the files he'd pre-downloaded for travel. He hadnât looked up anything about this hike. Not in detail. Mira had made it sound charming and harmless so he didn't bother.A quick swipe through one of the cached blogs made his blood turn cold.Hiking Mount Veora: Cautions for Late-Day Climbs. > âDue to its seclusio
Callaâs POVBy late afternoon, we were standing at the base of Mount Veora, looking up at the winding trail that stretched into green hills and dusty paths. Madden wore all black, naturallyâathletic pants, hiking boots, a breathable long-sleeve shirt that looked expensive, and a pair of designer sunglasses that absolutely did not belong on a hiking trail. He didn't wear anything I got for him. He just dumped them in the trash.WellâŠwhatever.I, however, looked amazing in army green cargo pants and the sarcastic hoodie Mira picked out. I had my hair tied up, a water bottle in one hand, and a half-eaten protein bar in the other.He adjusted his backpack with visible reluctance. âI still think we couldâve just⊠looked at pictures of this online.ââWhereâs the romance in that?â I stretched my arms, already buzzing with energy. âCâmon, you promised. Or is the Almighty Madden Blackwell scared??âHe sighed and gave me a long, dramatic look. âOne volcano. Then we go home. And no, I'm not sca
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