Chapter 13

CARRIE

I had never known fear the way I did that night—the kind of bone-deep, skin-prickling fear that makes every breath feel like a betrayal, every step like you’re walking a tightrope strung over jagged cliffs. Orca Bay had always been my sanctuary, my escape from the suffocating reach of my father’s world, but tonight, as I stood on the cold, unforgiving dock at Pier 27, it felt like the town was swallowing me whole.

The wind howled off the water, carrying with it the tang of salt and something else—something metallic, bitter. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering despite the thick jacket I’d thrown on in a hurry, and peered into the shadows that stretched long and sharp under the dim glow of flickering lamps. I told myself I had everything under control, that I’d made the right decision slipping out of my apartment, avoiding Nathan’s watchful eyes, but deep down I knew—I was in over my head.

A voice sliced through the silence, low and mocking, familiar in a way that made my stomach turn.

“Well, well. Look who finally decided to show.”

Daniel.

My heart stumbled, a ragged thump against my ribs, and I turned slowly, forcing myself to meet his gaze. He stood a few feet away, half-hidden in the darkness, but there was no mistaking the cruel twist of his lips, the glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Daniel,” I said, my voice thin, but steady. “What do you want?”

He stepped closer, his boots crunching against the wet wood, his presence towering and invasive. “What do I want?” He chuckled, the sound low and cold. “I want what you owe me, princess. I want closure.”

I swallowed hard, gripping the edges of my jacket like it was a shield. “We’ve been over this. It’s over. You need to move on.”

His eyes flashed, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “You think you can humiliate me—leave me like trash—and just disappear to some sleepy little town? You think I wouldn’t find you?”

I took a step back, the boards creaking under my heels, the dark water lapping hungrily at the edges of the pier. “This isn’t the way, Daniel. You’re scaring me.”

“Good,” he spat, his voice rising. “Because you should be scared. You ruined my life, Carrie. And now it’s my turn.”

I glanced around, desperate, searching for any sign of escape, any glimpse of help—but the dock was empty, just me, Daniel, and the endless expanse of night. My breath hitched, my mind racing, and I cursed myself for not listening to Nathan, for thinking I could handle this alone.

But then—a sound. Heavy boots pounding against the planks, a shadow moving fast and sure from the other side of the pier.

“Nathan,” I breathed, relief flooding through me like a tidal wave.

Daniel spun around, his posture tensing, and for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.

Nathan’s voice rang out, hard and sharp. “Step away from her. Now.”

Nathan’s voice, deep and cutting through the bitter night air like a blade, was the only thing grounding me as I stood frozen, my heart a wild animal battering against the cage of my chest, and in that endless moment between Daniel’s tense inhale and the next inevitable move, I felt something primal stir inside me—a fierce, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as alone as I’d feared, that despite everything, despite my own stubbornness and the miles of emotional distance I had built like walls between Nathan and me, he had come for me, as though some invisible thread had tugged him through the darkness and into this nightmare at the exact second I needed him most.

Daniel’s head jerked toward Nathan, his eyes narrowing, his lips curling into that familiar sneer that had once made me feel small and helpless but now only made me feel sickened and tired—a man who couldn’t stand losing, who couldn’t stand being powerless, and who was far more dangerous because of it.

“This isn’t your fight, old man,” Daniel spat, taking a step back but not letting go of the tension that hummed between us, like a wire stretched taut and ready to snap.

But Nathan, oh God, Nathan didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink; he kept moving forward with that predator’s grace I’d seen in glimpses before but never like this—never with his whole body bristling with the kind of purpose that said he would burn the world to ash before letting anyone lay a finger on me again—and his eyes, dark and endless, were locked on Daniel like he’d already made the decision, like the only thing left to do now was finish it.

“I’m making it my fight,” Nathan said, his voice low and lethal, each word measured like a trigger being pulled, “because she’s under my protection, and because you’ve made it clear you don’t know how to walk away.”

Daniel’s laugh was sharp and bitter, echoing across the empty pier like broken glass. “Protection? Is that what you call it?” He flicked his eyes toward me, his gaze dripping venom. “I bet she’s got you wrapped around her finger too, huh? Just another fool falling for the same old tricks.”

“Shut up, Daniel,” I snapped, my voice shaking but loud enough to slice through the tension, because hearing him spew that poison again, watching him try to turn Nathan against me, made something harden inside me—a refusal to let him keep writing the story where I was always the villain, always the weak one.

But Nathan didn’t need my defense.

He moved so fast I barely saw it happen—one second he was still, the next his hand was gripping Daniel’s collar, yanking him forward with enough force to send a sharp gasp from Daniel’s throat, and Nathan’s other hand, clenched in a tight fist, hovered just inches from Daniel’s face, shaking with barely contained fury.

“If you ever come near her again,” Nathan growled, his voice so low and dangerous I felt it in my bones, “I swear to God, you’ll regret the day you ever met her.”

Daniel’s bravado flickered—just a heartbeat of fear flashing across his face—but he covered it quickly, spitting at Nathan’s feet before shoving back, his voice cracking as he barked, “You’ll both pay for this. You think this is over? It’s not over.”

Nathan released him with a hard shove, sending Daniel stumbling back a few steps, and Daniel glared at us one last time before turning and disappearing into the shadows, his footsteps pounding against the dock until the night swallowed him whole.

For a long, breathless second, all I could do was stand there, trembling, staring at the spot where he’d vanished, my heart still racing like a runaway train, my mind struggling to catch up to what had just happened.

And then Nathan’s hands were on my shoulders, steady and warm, turning me gently to face him, and when I looked up into his eyes, all that hard, dangerous anger was gone, replaced by something so fierce and protective it made my throat tighten.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice rough, and I nodded, though the tears were already pooling in my eyes, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, my voice shaking, “thanks to you.”

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging just a little, and then, without another word, he pulled me into his arms, wrapping me up so tightly it felt like he was trying to shield me from the entire world, and I let myself sink into him, my fingers clutching at his jacket, my face pressed against his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring thump of his heartbeat.

We stood there for what felt like forever, wrapped up in silence and relief and something deeper I couldn’t name yet, and for the first time in what felt like years, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I was finally safe.

But as Nathan’s arms tightened around me and his breath whispered against my hair, I couldn’t help the small, cold fear that curled in my stomach—a fear that whispered this wasn’t the end. That Daniel’s words weren’t just empty threats.

That the worst might still be coming.