Page 75 of Deeply Examined

She wanted me to see this. For me toknow.

On the screens, frozen in damning clarity, is the moment I slid the needle into her neck and placed the tracker under her skin.

My pulse roars in my ears.

She found out.

I run a shaking hand through my hair, my mind a storm of disbelief and fury. Doesn’t she understand? I had to do it. I was protecting her. Keeping her safe.

Keeping hermine.

I’d been so sure we’d work this out. She just needed time, space to cool off and see reason. I thought she’d realize what I already know—that we’re meant for each other. Soulmates. Bound by something greater than logic.

But now… Now, she wants to escape me.

A dark, hollow ache spreads through my chest, twisting into something sharper, something hungrier. My jaw tightens, and I clench my fists until my nails dig into my palms, drawing blood.

Jessica saved me. Before her, I was too broken, too damaged, to find happiness, but like a miracle she reentered my life. She brought light into my darkness. She healed me, showed me there’s beauty, love, and trust in the world—even for someone like me. She proved there are things worth fighting for.

After all that, she thinks she can just walk away? That she can leave me behind?

Never.

I take a slow, steadying breath, my panic cooling into a deadly resolve. I’ve faced impossible odds before and crushed them. I’ve bent the world to my will when it refused to yield. And I’ll do it again.

For her. For us.

Because Jessica ismine.

I’ll track her down, no matter where she hides, no matter how far she runs. I’ll bring her back, even if she’s kicking and screaming. She belongs with me.

And nothing—nothing—will stop me from bringing her home.

Jessica

He comes to the opening night of the musical. Of course, he knew I’d be at the sold-out theater. The sight of West—calm, unbothered, like he belongs here—makes me want to scream.

Howdarehe?

Thenerve!

I should call the police, but I don’t. It’s the same problem I had when Brad tried to break down my door. I can’t afford the negative attention. Can’t risk a scandal, not with my job.

West is gone by the time the students take their last bows and the curtain falls, but when I walk to the car Monica lent me, I swear I feel his eyes on me.

The next morning he’s outside my favorite coffee shop, then by the yoga studio, and finally by the grocery store. He’s stalking me, always close enough to see but too far to confront. This goes on for two more days. West in the distance. I ignore him, hating the way my skin heats under his burning gaze.

On the third day, when he loiters outside Monica’s apartment, where I’m temporarily staying, I lose it.

“Leave me alone!” I scream across the street at him. “Dylan was right. You’re a lunatic.” Angry tears sting the back of my throat as I fumble in my purse. The Ziploc bag I pull out has a shiny metal object in it. It’s tiny, the size of a grain of rice.

“Recognize this!” I screech, waving the bag in the air. “It’s the tracker they had to dig out of me.” Dried blood still clings to the tracker.Myblood. “The one you put in while I was sleeping, you fucking pyscho.”

He barely raises his voice, but still I hear him over the noise of the city—as clear as if he were standing next to me. “I may be a psycho, but I’myourpsycho, Jess. If I’m crazy, it’s because you make me that way.”

My harsh bark of laughter has nothing to do with humor. “Says every abuser.”

I spin on my heel and stomp into the building, grateful that Monica makes enough money to live in an apartment building with a doorman, Dimitri. We’ve already given him strict instructions to not let West inside.

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