MasukThen, through the warped blur of water, a strong arms wrapped around my middle, and dragged me upward. My head broke the surface with a violent gasp that tore through my chest.
I coughed, choking up water as he hauled me toward the edge. “Whoa! Damn… she really went under!” “I didn’t think she’d panic that hard—” “Is she okay?” Their voices came in fragments, floating above me as he propped me up on the pool ledge. My throat burned and my hands were shaking so hard I couldn’t even grip the tile at first. And then… Laughter. Actual fucking laughter. I turned, water streaming down my face, vision blurring with tears and chlorine. He was laughing. They all were. “Oh my God,” one of the girls giggled, covering her mouth like she was trying to hide it but failing miserably. “You really freaked out.” “She looked like someone threw a cat in the pool,” one of his guy friends added, sending another wave of laughter through the group. Ha. What a bunch of lunatic’s. They were insane. They had to be. I stared at him—my boyfriend—waiting for him to look horrified, apologetic, SOMETHING. But he was still grinning with them like a fool, like the whole thing was nothing more than a hilarious accident. “Are you fucking crazy?” I yelled, my voice breaking from inhaling water. “What is wrong with you?! I told you—I told you not to do that!” The smile slid off his face, replaced by surprise… then irritation. “Oh, come on,” he said, water dripping off his chin. “It was supposed to be fun. You’re overreacting.” “Overreacting?” I choked out, clutching my chest as another cough racked through me. “I almost drowned!” “You weren’t going to drown,” he scoffed. “I was right next to you. Calm down.” “Yeah, Thea,” one of the girls chimed in, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. “It was just a joke.” “Take it easy,” another guy added, raising his drink. “He didn’t mean anything by it.” “Seriously,” the girl from earlier said, eyebrows raised in disbelief, “you’re ruining the mood.” Ruining the mood. Ruing the goddamn mood??! My mouth hung open as I stared at them. At him. At all the faces staring back at me like I was the problem. Like my fear was an inconvenience. Like my panic attack was bad fucking manners. “I told you I was scared,” I whispered, voice trembling from something that wasn’t the cold anymore. “I begged you to stop.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You always make everything such a big deal.” Was he actually listening to himself right now? I shook my head and stood up. I won’t stand another second of their dismissive eyes, their judgment, and disgusting laughter. With shaky legs, soaked clothes clinging to my body, and hair dripping down my back, I started to walk away. “Thea… wait,” he called out behind me. But I didn’t. I didn’t look back and I sure as hell didn’t slow down. Someone else called after me too—maybe one of the girls, maybe one of the guys. “THEA!” But their voices only made my throat tighten even harder. I headed toward the house, my wet sandals slapping loudly against the pavement, water trailing behind me like a path of humiliation leading straight through the backyard doors. The coolness of the house hit my skin instantly, sending chills through me. I kept walking, past the kitchen, past the living room, heading straight for the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I just needed a moment to fucking breath. A place to drown quietly in my own embarrassment without an audience. But as soon as I stepped into the hallway, my soaked clothes dripped water on the tile… And my foot slid. It happened so fast I didn’t even have time to brace myself. My leg shot forward and the floor rushed up to meet me. The impact knocked the wind out of me, pain shooting through my elbow and hip as I smacked against the cold ceramic tile. I lay there. Stilled, as everything came rushing in. The first sob that came tore out of me so violently it surprised even me. Then another. And another. Soon I was shaking, curled on the cold tile floor with water pooling under me, mixing with tears as everything scattered inside me. I pressed my forehead against my arm and let myself cry because there was nothing left in me to hold it back. I cried for the fear I felt underwater. I cried for the way he laughed. I cried for how small I felt, how foolish, how invisible. I cried because the one person who was supposed to protect me had shoved me right into the thing I feared most. And I cried because, deep down, I knew something in our relationship had shifted today. Maybe forever. I didn’t know how long I lay there on the floor, trembling, my hair clinging to my cheeks, wondering how pathetic I must look—and how nothing could possibly make me feel any more pathetic than I already did. Until I heard the front door creak open. My head shot up instinctively. And I froze immediately. Standing in the entryway, framed by the afternoon sunlight spilling in behind him, was Mr. Gage… Noah’s father. Still in his suit from work. One hand holding a sleek leather suitcase while the other was tucked into his pocket. My heart dropped. “Oh my fucking God,” I whispered to myself before I could stop it.I watched him unzip the bag and my stomach dropped the second he opened it.Guns.The bag was filled with them. Handguns, mostly — sleek, black, and clearly well-maintained. They were packed neatly inside, wrapped in cloth to keep them from shifting. There had to be at least a dozen, maybe more. It wasn’t my first time to see one but it was certainly a first seeing that amount.I took a small step back, heart hammering but maybe the sound of my foot scraping against the stone was too loud, because Noah suddenly turned his head.Our eyes met.For a split second, I froze, bracing myself for the worst. I thought he’d stand up, confront me, and demand to know why I was spying on him. My mind raced with possible excuses I could give, lies I could tell. But he didn’t say a word.Instead, he simply turned back around, like my presence didn’t matter at all. His gloved hands moved calmly as he zipped the bag closed again, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet air. He brushed mor
He chucked a pair of worn-out gloves and a rusty little hand trowel straight at my chest and I barely caught it before it hit the ground. “I haven’t gardened a day in my life,” I said, staring at the tools in my hands. “Then it’s about fucking time you learn, isn’t it?” he shot back, already turning away. I let out a long, frustrated sigh, muttering under my breath as I yanked the stiff gloves over my fingers and trudged after him toward the edge of the garden, where the soil was dark, clumpy, and crawling with little bugs under the afternoon sun. “So what am I supposed to do?” I asked, catching up. “Just do whatever the fuck I do,” he grunted, dropping to his knees by the bed. “That’s a really vague instruction, you know that?” He shrugged, not even bothering to look up. “Well, I’m not exactly a very good teacher, so that’s as clear as I can get.” I stared at the back of his head, gloves already feeling sweaty and awkward on my hands. The sun was already warm on my back. The
I blinked, still tasting the burn on my tongue when Noah snatched the glass right out of my hand.“Hey, that was mine,” I said, frowning up at him.He shook his head, still chuckling as he finished the rest in one go. “It’s okay,” he let out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You already proved your goddamn point. No need to torture yourself up over a stupid drink.”I crossed my arms, refusing to let it go. “As I said, I wasn’t trying to prove a point.”He scoffed, setting the empty glass down on the counter. “Sure you weren’t.”I smiled despite myself, watching the way the corners of his mouth still twitched like he was fighting another laugh. There was something almost soft in his eyes right now, buried under all that usual sharpness.I tilted my head, feeling bold. “Worried about me?”For a second, he just looked at me. Then, to my surprise, he answered without hesitation.“Yeah.”I stared at him, completely speechless. The word hung between us, heavier than I expected.
He didn’t answer. I stood up, pushing the chair back a little harder than necessary. My notes and laptop were still spread across the table, but I suddenly couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him anymore. “You can have the Study to yourself,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. “I’m not sitting here while you act like you’re doing some kind of psychological experiment on me.” I nudged his shoulder as I walked past and headed for the door without looking back. “Saraphina, he called but I ignored him. His hand shot out and caught my wrist before I could reach the door. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to stop me in my tracks. “Hey,” he let out, his voice lower now. “I’m talking to you.” I tried to keep moving anyway, but he didn’t let go. Then he sighed, the sound tired and a little frustrated, like he was annoyed at himself more than at me. “It seems like you took my words completely the wrong goddamn way,” he muttered, voice low. “I wasn’t trying to ta
Noah’s eyebrow lifted slightly, like he hadn’t expected that answer. He stayed where he was, leaning against the edge of the desk now instead of the doorway, arms still crossed over his chest.“Offended?” he asked, almost amused.“Shouldn’t I be?” I shot back. “You make it sound like I only got in because of my last name.”He didn’t argue and just watched me with that annoying poker expression of his. The silence stretched as he hovered near the desk, picking up one of my notebooks and flipping through it absently.I tried to refocus on my laptop, but it was impossible with him standing there. His presence filled the room in a way that made it hard to think straight. Every time I tried to read a line, I could feel his eyes on me or hear the faint rustle of pages as he kept flipping through my notes.After a few more minutes of it, I finally dropped my pen and looked up at him, exasperated.“I can’t concentrate with you here,” I said bluntly.Noah glanced up from the notebook, tilting
I climbed out and followed him, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. As I passed Mr. James, he gave me a small, reassuring nod, but his focus was already on the car, lifting the hood to inspect whatever had caused it to die so suddenly in the middle of the road.Noah didn’t say much as I slid into the passenger seat of his car. He just started the engine and pulled away, leaving Mr. James behind to deal with the broken-down vehicle. I stared out the window as the trees blurred past, my mind still spinning. After a while, I finally spoke, my voice quiet.“Do you think the car breaking down was an accident?”Noah’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, but he didn’t look at me.“Who knows,” he let out after a moment, his voice low.I didn’t push him and could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk — or maybe he just didn’t want to tell me the truth. Either way, I stayed quiet, watching as the tall iron gates of the mansion came into view.As we got closer, the gates be







