Zara didn't sleep that night.
She kept replaying the moment the silhouette under the streetlamp, the message, the shadows. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind created worse and worse versions of what could've happened if she hadn't stopped walking.
The next morning, her hands trembled as she tied her hair back. She looked in the mirror, searching for some sign of the girl she'd been before Northbridge. But that version of herself normal, anonymous, safe felt lightyears away now.
When she stepped into the hall, she wasn't even surprised to find Jaxon waiting for her.
He leaned against the wall like he'd been there for hours, arms crossed, that usual smirk replaced with something sharper.
"You shouldn't be walking around alone."
Zara didn't slow. "You stalking me now?"
He fell into step beside her. "You got another note, didn't you?"
She clenched her jaw.
"That's a yes," he said.
"What do you want, Jaxon?" she snapped. "If you're trying to protect me, then just tell me what the hell is going on. Who's threatening me? And why?"
He didn't answer.
Zara stopped walking. "Say something."
Jaxon ran a hand through his hair. "You think I know everything? That I want you involved in this?"
"I am involved. Whether you wanted it or not."
He stepped closer, voice low. "My family has enemies, Zara. Not the gossipy, fake kind. Real enemies. Dangerous ones. People who know hurting me isn't easy but hurting someone else? That's easier."
Zara's throat tightened.
"So I'm just... what? Collateral damage?"
"No," he said firmly. "You were just in the wrong place. Now I have to make sure you don't become a target."
She stared at him. "Too late."
They skipped first period.
Jaxon took her off campus, away from the eyes and whispers. They parked in a quiet lookout spot that overlooked the city. The air smelled like pine and cold wind. He handed her a cup of hot chocolate from a corner café and didn't say a word for a long time.
Finally, she asked, "What happened to your mom?"
He flinched.
Zara almost apologized but he shook his head.
"She died when I was thirteen," he said softly. "Car crash. Or that's what the police called it. But my father… he never believed it. Said it was a message. Said someone wanted to remind us we weren't untouchable."
She looked at him, stunned.
"I was supposed to be in that car," he added. "But I stayed late at school for detention."
Zara swallowed hard.
Jaxon turned his face away, jaw tight. "Ever since then, my life's been a chessboard. Everyone watching. Waiting. You think I like being this guy? The one people fear? I didn't choose it. I inherited it."
He looked at her then, something raw and honest in his eyes.
"I didn't ask for you to save me that day. But you did. And now they know you matter."
Her chest ached.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For all of it."
Zara reached out, her fingers brushing his. "Then don't push me away. Let me help you."
For a moment, the wall between them cracked.
Then his phone buzzed.
He read the message and all the color drained from his face.
Zara leaned over to see.
Unknown Number:
Check your car. You left a little blood behind.
Jaxon's hand clenched so hard his knuckles went white.
"Jaxon," Zara said carefully, "what blood?"
He didn't answer.
But when they reached the car…
The back seat was slashed open. And inside the torn leather, wrapped in plastic, was a small, bloodied envelope.
With Zara's name on it.