Ch. 4 A Place Between

Just like in the subway, the coffee shop is empty. It’s just me and Jensen.

I can hear my heart beating out of my chest. My lungs are working double time.

He’s looking at me with a mix of concern and something sharper—anger maybe.

“We’re alone again,” I say

“We are,” he replies, nodding.

He stays crouched in front of me, emerald eyes clouded over with emotion, a kind of restrained fury.

“Where’d you go?” he asks. “Just now, before I brought you here?”

My brow furrows. “I was gone?”

“Not physically. You and I never left the coffee shop. But your mind—your mind clouded over with darkness. The last thing I saw was you covering your face, a flash of the beach, then a room I didn’t recognize. So, I’ll ask again, Eloise. Where were you?”

I flinch when he says my name. The sound of it brings back the memory—his voice, the wrong one, dragging it across a smile that wasn’t really a smile.

I tear my eyes away from Jensen, scanning the illusion around us: Lucy’s coffee shop, perfect and still. The sunlight spills through the windows like a spring morning painting itself into place.

He must’ve seen my reaction. Gently, he rests a hand on my knee, then stands and sits across from me.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to be around me,” I say, voice quieter than I expect. “So why did you show up yesterday? And this morning? Why did you pull me here now?”

He hesitates. “I… I wish I had an answer that would make sense. But I can’t stay away. It’s like I’m tethered to you. It’s always been that way. I’ve ignored it for a long time, but now…” He trails off, gaze locked on me. “Something’s changed. You went somewhere else just now. And that wasn’t me.”

“You mean something else took me—like how you bring me here? Or the subway?”

He shifts uncomfortably, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “There’s no easy way to explain this to you…”

“Try,” I say, folding my arms. “Seems like you’ve got some supernatural shit going on, Jensen. You said you saw into my head. You can pull me into fake versions of the places I’m already in. That’s not normal. None of this is normal.”

At the sound of his name, he stands. Crosses his arms. Looks down at me like he’s trying to decide whether I’m a threat or a puzzle he can’t solve.

He’s devastatingly handsome, and it’s the worst possible moment to notice. Emerald eyes. Tousled dark hair that—

Stop.

Get a grip, you idiot. This man is not normal. Get your hormones under control.

I drop my gaze, folding my hands tightly in my lap.

“Take me back, Jensen,” I say quietly. “Put me back where I’m supposed to be.”

“Eloise…”

His voice. My name again. That name.

I flinch. All I can think about is Not Jensen, with his wicked grin and those perfect, too-white teeth. His wild eyes, identical to the man in front of me.

Who is Jensen?

“I can’t yet,” he says. “We have things we need to discuss.”

“Wait—what? You can’t keep me here.” Panic flares in my chest.

“I’m not keeping you hostage,” he says firmly. “But I can’t let you go until we talk. I need to know what you saw. I can’t risk you telling anyone.”

“And what exactly do you think I saw, Jensen? Who do you think I saw?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “You haven’t told me. Whatever it was… it blocked me out. I couldn’t see anything.”

I narrow my eyes, unsure how to tell him the truth—that I saw him. A twisted version of him.

“Is that normal for you?” I ask. “Seeing inside people’s heads?”

“I don’t read your mind, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s more like… flashes. Like you’re broadcasting images, but only under certain circumstances.”

He starts pacing. His fingers rake through his hair—agitated, almost frantic. There’s rage behind his eyes, a pressure barely held in check.

He stops at the settee—his settee, I realize, a replica from the real shop—and drops into it hard. His elbows on his knees, his hands over his face.

We sit in silence.

He doesn’t look at me once.

And when he finally lifts his head, he looks… hollow.

“I’m sorry, Eloise,” he says.

I open my mouth to respond—

—and suddenly, I’m back.

Back in Lucy’s coffee shop.

The real one.

Lucy’s kneeling in front of me, picking up the pieces of a shattered coffee mug.

My heart slams against my ribs. I whip my head toward the settee. He’s gone. Jensen’s gone.

I drop down to help Lucy.

“I’m so sorry, Luce. I didn’t mean to break it. It was an accident.”

“El, it’s okay!” she says quickly, her voice soft.

“Please, don’t worry about a coffee mug. It’s just a thing. Are you okay?”

Ethan and Grace are staring at me too—eyes wide, concern etched deep into their faces.

“I’m fine,” I lie, glancing again toward the empty corner. “I’m okay. I’m sorry, again.”

I gather my things in a blur. I need air. I need space.

Home’s not an option. Not with the cops still investigating the break-in.

“I think I’m going to take a walk for a while,” I say, backing toward the door. “I’ll be back later.”

“Sure, El. I’ll make dinner, so try to be back to eat,” Lucy says, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

I nod. I walk out.

And I try not to run.