The cab pulled up to the long, private road outside Dominic’s house. I practically stumbled out, before the driver could stop the ter. My chest still squeezed tight around the threat echoing in my skull:
Keep digging... and yours ends next.
Dominic’s neighborhood always felt too quiet.
The kind of quiet that didn’t feel peaceful.
It felt watched.
I scanned the pavent, the sidewalk, the hedges, every parked car. My eyes darted to windows, shadows, the rooftops. My phone stayed clenched in my fist.
I spun in a slow circle. Soone had followed . Soone had taken a photo. Soone had my number. My location.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I backed away from the cab, as the driver pulled away.
Was soone watching again right now? Filming ?
I glanced up at the high walls of Dominic’s house.
Then....
The gate creaked open.
I flinched so hard I nearly tripped over the curb.
But it wasn’t a stalker.
It was Dominic.
He stepped out slowly, blinking in the golden sunset, wearing a hoodie over pajama pants and no shoes. His hair stuck up like he’d just rolled out of bed.... or maybe fallen asleep on the floor. His cheeks were flushed, his lips dry, and his nose pink at the tip.
He sniffled and squinted, then smiled weakly.
"You ca."
His voice was hoarse, barely louder than the breeze.
I opened my mouth, but nothing ca out.
Because he looked so—pale.
Still tall, broad and hot as ever... but underneath all of that, he looked sick. Tired. Fragile in a way I wasn’t used to seeing him.
Then he tilted his head slightly and gave a weak laugh.
"Wait," he croaked, grinning through his chapped lips. "How do you still look paler than ?"
Before I could answer, he sneezed. Hard.
He staggered back a step and winced, rubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie.
I just stared at him, my throat too tight to answer.
At that mont, all the fear I’d bottled on the drive here spilled out at once.
"You," I snapped. "You didn’t tell you were this sick."
He blinked. "I told you I had a fever."
"Yeah, you didn’t say you were dying."
He coughed a laugh. "Little dramatic, Rivera."
"Ash...?" Dominic’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer. "Hey. Are you okay?"
I sucked in my stomach.
He tilted his head. "Did anything happen?"
I glanced behind again, scanning the street. The lampposts were flickering on one by one, casting pools of yellow on the pavent.
"I...I have a stalker. He sent a ssage."
He raised an brow. "What kind of ssage?"
I stared at Dom again, his cheeks were pink but pale beneath it. His breath ca shallow. His hoodie hung looser than it should. He was sick... really sick, and out here with bare feet like it didn’t matter.
He still ca outside when he heard pull up.
Because he was worried too.
Because he cared.
"Soone’s watching , Dom," I whispered.
His expression dropped imdiately. He stiffened, his tired eyes widened.
I held up my phone with a trembling hand. "So guy... wearing a mask. He said he killed Liam. And he took a photo of . Just
now. From the cab."
Dominic froze.
"He said if I keep digging... I’ll be next," I whispered.
Dominic’s jaw tightened like he was grinding his teeth. "Show ."
"I can’t." My voice broke. "It disappeared after I played it. One of those single-view ssages."
Dominic’s eyes flicked to the darkening street, scanning the shadows exactly like I’d done monts before. His voice dropped. "Was anyone following the cab? Any cars you recognized?"
"I....I don’t know." My vision blurred for a second as I tried to rember. "I was too busy... freaking out."
Dom stepped closer, grabbing my shoulders, shaking just enough to snap my attention back to him.
"Hey. Breathe. Look at ."
"No one," he said quietly, "touches you. Not while I’m breathing."
My throat closed up. "Dom—"
I forced my eyes up to his. Even sick, even exhausted, I saw the fire in his eyes.
"You’re safe right now.," he said fiercely. "Whoever this asshole is... he’s not touching you."
"But Dominic..." My voice dropped. "He knew where I was. Exactly. And if he knows that... what else does he know?"
Dominic hesitated. Then he gently tugged closer until my forehead rested against his shoulder.
His hoodie slled faintly of laundry detergent and a hint of sweat. He was burning hot. Feverish.
I looked at him, at the boy who used to make feel so small, who’d once shoved into lockers and made cry.
For a split second, his eyes darted to the street....and in them, I saw sothing I’d never seen before. ’fear.’
I felt him shiver.
"You’re shaking," I murmured.
"So are you," he shot back, his voice was muffled against my hair.
For a mont, I just stayed there. Pressed into him. Feeling his chest rise and fall.
"I’m going to figure this out," Dominic whispered. "I swear, Ash. Nobody’s going to hurt you."
I wanted to believe him.
But I couldn’t stop picturing that mask. That calm creepy voice. And the way the stalker said:
"Stop playing with fire if you don’t want to get burned."
Dominic shivered as a breeze ruffled his hoodie, sniffing like a tired puppy. "Co inside. Before you freeze your scrawny ass off."
I followed him through the gate, his fingers were warm despite how clammy they felt.
We slipped through the high security doors, the automatic lights ca on imdiately. The floor glead so perfectly I was afraid to step on it with my muddy sneakers.
Dom sniffled again. "Sorry the place is a ss."
I blinked around us. Marble floors, sleek walls, expensive art. "A ss?" I scoffed. "You’ve got to be kidding ."
He shrugged.
I followed him up the wide staircase, past huge paintings in sleek black fras, down a long hallway. Dominic trudged into his bedroom and collapsed onto the giant bed, burying himself under a gray duvet.
"You good?" I asked softly.
He poked one eye out from under the blanket. "Not dying yet."
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