CHAPTER 7

Helena

My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white.

The photograph blurred for a second before I blinked hard and forced myself to look again.

"No, this couldn't be." I mouthed to myself.

The silver-haired man sat across from Brent with the calm confidence of someone who belonged there, someone who wasn’t afraid of being seen.

A cold shiver crawled down my spine.

I remembered him, I remembered his expensive suit at my parents' funeral especially.

I remembered his hand on my shoulder while I cried.

I remembered him telling me that grief could make people imagine things, that wolves weren’t real, and that what I remembered from that night was trauma, nothing more.

My stomach twisted. Then slowly, I raised my eyes to Jarrett.

He was staring at the image, looking genuinely shaken.

"Who is he?" My voice came out roughly.

Jarrett didn’t answer.

"Who is he?" I repeated.

His jaw tightened. "Where did that person get this?"

The question immediately irritated me. "That’s what you’re worried about?"

"Helena..."

"No." I shoved the phone toward him. "You know him."

His silence was answer enough.

"You know him." I repeated. A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Jarrett." I called but still nothing.

The anger I’d been carrying all day suddenly surged forward. "Tell me who he is."

"It’s complicated." He replied.

I laughed bitterly. Of course it was. Everything with him was complicated. Everything with him was secrets and half-truths and disappearing acts.

"Complicated?" I echoed. "That’s your answer?"

His eyes met mine. I could see guilt and fear in his eyes.

The sight unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. Jarrett Brooks was not a man who scared easily, yet he looked terrified.

"What aren’t you telling me?" I asked him.

"I can’t explain right now."

The words landed like gasoline on a fire. I stood up so quickly my head spun. "Then get out."

"Helena..." He began.

But I cut him off quickly, "I said get out."

For a moment I thought he would argue. Instead he stared at me for several long seconds before nodding once.

A look passed over his face, something painful, something resigned. Then he walked away.

The door clicked shut behind him. I was alone again, and somehow that felt worse.

The next few hours were a nightmare.

My phone refused to stop vibrating.

Every notification seemed worse than the last. News alerts. Emails. Messages. Missed calls.

By evening my name was everywhere.

I opened one article and immediately wished I hadn't.

'HELENA CALLAHAN AT CENTER OF FRAUD SCANDAL.'

'BULLHORNS OWNER ACCUSED OF MISMANAGING MILLIONS.'

'INSIDERS CLAIM HELENA CALLAHAN SOLD TEAM SECRETS.'

My chest tightened. They weren’t even trying to hide it anymore.

Someone who wanted me destroyed was feeding these stories to the press.

A video notification appeared. I clicked it.

The video began instantly, it was an interview with Vanessa sitting under the bright studio lights with her perfect hair, perfect makeup, and perfect tears.

I nearly threw my phone across the room.

"I always considered Helena family," Vanessa said sadly.

The reporter nodded sympathetically. "Then this must be difficult."

Vanessa lowered her eyes. "It is."

Bloody liar! My fingers dug into the bedsheets. "I tried to help her."

That was another dirty lie.

"I knew she was struggling."

"But I never imagined things had gotten this bad."

I couldn’t watch anymore. I shut the video off.

The silence that followed felt deafening.

The woman I had trusted was standing in front of cameras rewriting my life, and people were believing her. Because why wouldn't they? She looked heartbroken while I looked guilty.

A knock sounded at the door but I didn’t answer.

The door opened anyway. Jarrett stepped inside. "Reporters are downstairs."

I rubbed my temples. "Great." I let out.

"There are dozens of them."

I looked up. "How did they find me?"

His expression darkened. "Someone must have tipped them off."

I laughed without humor. "I should start charging admission."

Jarrett didn’t even smile at the joke. "Pack your things."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"We’re leaving." He said

"I'm not doing that."

"Helena...."

"I’m not running with you."

His gaze hardened. "This isn’t about running."

"Then what is it about?" My brows arched.

His eyes held mine. "It's about keeping you alive."

I wanted to argue and tell him he was being dramatic, but the memory of glowing eyes and twisted claws flashed through my mind.

A knot formed in my throat.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the backseat of a black SUV while Jarrett drove us through the city.

Neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was crowded with everything neither of us knew how to say.

Eventually the city lights changed and the vehicle pulled into a secure underground garage.

I frowned. "Where are we?"

"We're at my place."

I looked at him. "You own a skyscraper?"

A faint smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "The organization does."

Typical. Of course superstar hockey players lived in places that looked like luxury hotels.

The penthouse occupied the entire top floor.

The elevator opened directly into a space bigger than most houses with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

Everything was sleek, modern, expensive, and completely unfamiliar and I hated it immediately.

Jarrett showed me to a guest suite. "It’s secure."

I crossed my arms. "Fantastic."

He sighed. "Try to get some sleep." He said before closing the door behind him, leaving me alone again.

********

I didn’t sleep. I tried. God, I tried.

But every time I closed my eyes, memories came rushing back.

The hospital room, the doctor’s face and especially his words; "We couldn’t save your baby."

My chest hurt from the pain sitting inside there like something was alive.

I curled onto my side and stared into the darkness.

For days I had been surviving on adrenaline, anger, shock, and survival instinct.

Now there was nothing left to distract me, nothing left to fight.

Only grief. And grief was cruel. It waited until you were alone, then it wrapped its hands around your throat.

A strangled sound escaped me as I buried my face in the pillow and my shoulders began shaking.

No. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t think about it but my mind ignored me.

I thought about the tiny life I had carried, the nursery ideas I’d secretly saved on my phone, the way I’d imagined telling Brent, the future I’d built in my head.

Everything was all gone.

A sob escaped before I could stop it, then another.

The dam finally broke.

I cried harder than I had in years. Harder than I had at my parents' funeral. Harder than I had when Brent betrayed me.

Because this grief was different. This grief lived inside my body. It was an empty space where love had once existed.

I cried until my throat hurt, until my eyes burned, until there was nothing left.

Eventually exhaustion dragged me under and I fell asleep.

*******

When I woke up, I couldn't tell where I was. The room was dark and silent. My phone screen glowed from the bedside table. 3:07 a.m.

I sat up slowly, feeling something was wrong.

The feeling was immediate and instinctive, like a hand pressing against the back of my neck. Watching.

My pulse quickened, I swung my legs off the bed, a strange unease settling in my stomach. I couldn’t explain it. I just knew someone was there.

I approached the glass doors leading to the balcony, every step feeling heavier than the last and my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Then a figure appeared behind the railing. He was motionless but still enough to make my breath catch.

The silhouette was enormous, far too large to be normal.

The minute the figure tilted its head, my pulse exploded. It watched me the same way a predator watches prey.

Cold terror slid down my spine.

Then I saw the eyes, glowing with an unnatural gold color.

My scar erupted with burning heat. I gasped as the pain shot up my arm like fire.

The figure didn’t move or blink. It just watched.

And somewhere deep inside me, something answered. A strange pull, a feeling I couldn’t explain.

The creature’s eyes narrowed. Then, without warning, it vanished.

One second it was there, and the next it disappeared into the darkness, gone, like it had never existed.

My breath came in ragged bursts. The room suddenly felt freezing cold.

I stumbled backward, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

No. No, no, no.

I wasn’t imagining things this time. I knew what I saw.