Page 78 of Fractured Allegiance
Because sometimes… it isn’t.
Sometimes I think he’s up there, watching the back of my neck as I pretend I don’t know what he is.
I press my fingers to the edge of the window frame. Let the breeze kiss the cut across my collarbone.
Then I speak.
Just one word.
Soft.
So soft I barely hear it myself.
“Why?”
Not a cry.
Not a plea.
Just a question hanging between glass and night and the memory of smoke curling between us while a body droppedand his eyes locked with mine like nothing else in the world mattered.
Why did he do it?
Why me?
Why that look?
Why do I keep checking the window?
Why do I keep hoping he never answers?
The breeze stirs the curtain. The room stays quiet. But the word remains, pressed against my ribs, refusing to fade.
Chapter 10 – Silas - Needle in the Vein
I don't sleep.
I'm sure I could if I tried, but I just don't want to.
The minute my body stops moving, my mind loops back to her—to the smoke, to the flash of red across the concrete, to the way she looked at me like I'd broken something she didn't know she still had.
So I leave my apartment before the sun comes up.
Early morning. Not quite dawn, not quite night. The city feels hollowed out at this hour—empty storefronts, neon buzz still echoing off glass, delivery trucks groaning to life in alleyways. I walk with no destination, just movement, trying to outpace thoughts that stick like tar.
My phone buzzes once.
A text from a number I don't have saved: You up? Remi's. Corner booth. Order for two.
Naomi.
I delete the message and change direction.
Ten minutes later, I'm pushing through the door of Remi's Diner—a 24-hour place that caters to shift workers, insomniacs, and people who need cheap coffee and cheaper eggs at ungodly hours. The bell above the door chimes. A waitress glances up from refilling salt shakers, nods once, then goes back to her work.
The place smells like burnt coffee and bacon grease. A man sits at the counter, hunched over a plate. Two paramedics occupy a booth near the window, their radio crackling softly between bites of toast.
And there, in the corner booth facing the door, is Naomi.
