Page 7 of His Dark Pull

Sarah waves away my protests with a flick of her wrist, her red nail polish catching the light. “You’re not imposing. You’re staying here, end of story.”

Knowing arguing with Sarah is futile, I give in with a sigh. “Alright, but just for tonight.”

“Splendid! Extra blankets, face masks—coming right up!”Sarah disappears down the hall, her voice a cheerful whirlwind. My limbs feel heavy, each breath a labor. I sink into the mismatched cushions of her couch, the lavender scent of a nearby candle flickers fragile. “The Road to Happiness Starts Within,”the open book on the coffee table mocks me. I close my eyes, but instead of peaceful meadows, all I see is Alexander. His eyes, a storm of blue, pull me in. The memory of his touch—a phantom hand tracing a path of fire across my skin.It’snot just the way our bodies fit, it’s the way he sees me, strips me bare with a single glance. My pulse quickens.

With Tyler, I can build alife that issafe, stable,filled with routines of family dinners and Sunday brunches.But a part of me, a part I long suppressed, yearns for something more—the thrill of the unknown, the passionate intensity that Alexander offers. I’m tired of playing it safe, of denying the wildness that simmers beneath the surface.

* * *

I wake with a gasp, my hair stuck to my forehead, the remnants of a dream clinging to me like a second skin. The rain continues outside, but the storm within me rages even stronger.

I stumble into the kitchen, my thirst physically manifesting the emotions churning within me. Reaching for a glass, the sharp ping of something hitting the kitchen window freezes me mid-action. My heart races against my chest as I approach the window, peeringoutinto the illuminated street below.

What the hell?

Alexander stands there, his tall frame illuminated by the flickering street lamp, his face a canvas of shadows and rain. The downpour softens the harsh lines of his jaw, revealing a vulnerability I rarely see. His usually immaculate hair is disheveled; strands stick to his forehead, and his eyes—those piercing blue eyes—shimmer with a raw longing that steals my breath.

A surge of heat coursesthroughme, swift and scorching, igniting every nerve. How dareheshow up here, at Sarah’s, after leaving me earlier?Like he always does.

I storm down the stairs, fists clenched. “What are you doing here?”I demand, my voice trembling despite my attempt to appear strong.

He looks up at me, his eyes reflecting conflicting emotions. Longing, yes, but also a deep sadness, a hint of desperation that tugs at my heartstrings. He looks like a man who has been to hell and back,a manwho has seen too much darkness yet still clings to a sliver of hope.

“I had to see you,”he says, his voice hoarse. He steps towards me, his hand reaching out, but I flinch back.

“Don’t,”I say, my voice cracking. “How did you even know I was here?”

He hesitates, his eyes flickering away before returning to meet my gaze. “I just know.I—I like to know where you are, to know you’re safe.”

Really?

He left me, vanished without a trace, leaving me to pick up the shattered pieces of my life. And now he claims to care about my safety?

“That’s rich, coming from you,”I spit. “You leave me with nothing for three years, your life shrouded in secrets, and now you suddenly care?”

He flinches as if my words are physical blows. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his eyes darken with a pain I can’t decipher. “And then you just bail on me in my apartment,”I continue, the hurt pouring out of me. “You said it was a business call.”

“It was,”he admits, his voice strained. “But it was important. I had to take care of it.”

My gaze narrows, suspicion creeping in. I glimpse a wet folded piece of paper peeking out ofhispocket, the name ‘Kovacs’scrawled across it in bold letters. Below it, another name, ‘EverBlue Group,’sends a chill through me. EverBlue Group is Alexander’s shipping company.

What connection does Alexander have with some Kovacs guy? And what is the nature of this “important business”that drew him away so abruptly?

Why do you care, Ava? You know he isn’t a good guy.

Before I can ask, he catches my gaze and shoves the paper back into his pocket, his hand trembling slightly as he does so. It’sa small gesture,but it’s enough to make my stomach clench.I’ve never seen him rattled before. There’s more on the note, but I didn’t manage to read it.

The street is dark, the only illumination coming from thestreetlamp above us, casting his face in a patchwork of light and shadow. I catch a glimpse of strain around his eyes, a tightness in his jaw that speaks of sleepless nights and burdens carried alone. At that moment, I do not see the untouchable leader he projects, but a glimpse of the wounded boy he must have once been.

“Where were you, Alexander?”I ask, my clenched fists loosening. My gaze holds his, searching for the truth in the depths of his eyes. “Why did you leave Port Haven? Why did you leaveme?”

He turns away, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t tell you,”he says,his voice low.

A tightness constricts my chest, making each breath a shallow gasp. “You can’t tell me?”I repeat, the words catching in my throat. “After all these years, after everything we’ve been through,that’syour answer?”

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with pain. “I’m sorry,”he says, his voice hoarse. “But there are things you’re better off not knowing.”

“Not safe for me then?”I scoff. “I’ve been through hell, Alexander. I can handle it.”

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