I don’t answer right away. Instead, I reach into my pocket, pulling out the Polaroid and setting it down on the counter between us.
She doesn’t touch it. Doesn’t even move at first.
Then, slowly, her hand hovers over it before finally picking it up.
The second her eyes focus on the image, she freezes.
“This is from last night,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I nod, watching her carefully.
She swallows hard, her fingers tightening around the edges. “Where did you find this?”
I flex my jaw. “Taped to my truck.”
Her head snaps up, her eyes wide, dark with something I don’t like seeing in them. Fear.
“They were here?” she breathes. “Just now?”
“At some point, yeah,” I say. “Could’ve been last night, could’ve been a few minutes ago . . . where the fuck is security?”
“We should call Malerick,” she states. “Like now, shouldn’t we?”
We should, but what is he going to do? Nothing. He’ll tell us to wait, to ignore it, but he’ll take the picture to keep it as . . . what is this? Other than a warning, I don’t see what else this can give them. The kitchen feels smaller somehow. Pressing. Suffocating. I don’t know what to do, how to protect her from whatever is happening.
“Nys, I . . .”
“They’re not going to stop,” she whispers, gripping the counter like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
I step closer, instinctively reaching for her. “We’re going to figure this out. I believe in Malerick.”
She lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “How? They’ve been inside my grandmother’s house. They recorded us. Now they’re leaving pictures like some kind of sick game?”
She shakes her head, eyes squeezed shut.
“They’re after me,” she whispers, “but also . . .”
I rub a hand down my face. “Nysa?—”
“They’re after Maddie,” she says, finally looking at me. “I need to do something to get them away from her. Leave, even if they chase me. Even if they catch me. I have to leave now.”
And God help me, the thought of it nearly knocks the air from my lungs. I don’t think. I move. One second, we’re standing there, a few feet apart. The next, I’m pulling her in, my hands cupping her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek.
I don’t wait for permission.
I don’t second-guess it.
It’s not soft. It’s not careful. It’s a collision of fear and desperation, a clash of everything we’ve been holding back. The air between us hums with something volatile, something neither of us knows how to contain. My fingers dig in, gripping her like she might slip away, like this moment could vanish before I’ve had the chance to memorize it. Because maybe it will. Maybe that’s why this kiss feels like a battle, like I’m trying to claim something before it’s lost.
She stiffens for a fraction of a second, but then she melts into me, her hands clutching at the front of my shirt like she’s afraid to let go.
I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, pouring everything I don’t know how to say into it.
I will protect you.
I will protect Maddie.
I won’t let them take anything else from you.
