Alex’s glare was pure venom, but the pain in his knee kept him from lunging. "You think this is over?" He spat. "You have no idea how many men are out here."

"I know exactly how many," Henry said coldly, stepping between Alex and Emma, "and you won’t be leading them anywhere tonight."

Emma pressed herself against Henry’s back, shaking. Her arms wrapped around him instinctively, clinging to the one thing keeping her safe.

From deeper in the forest, shouts erupted from afar... Alex’s men, drawn by the gunshot, were getting closer.

Henry’s jaw tightened. "We need to move."

He grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her into the darkness. Branches snapped underfoot, the forest floor damp and uneven. Their breathing was harsh in the cold air.

The voices grew louder. Flashlight beams flickered between the trees, jerking wildly as the men searched.

Henry suddenly yanked Emma down behind a fallen log, pushing her head low.

"Not a sound," he breathed against her ear.

Emma’s pulse pounded so hard she was certain they could hear it. Her fingers gripped the fabric of Henry’s jacket as one of the beams swept directly over the log, pausing for a heartbeat that felt like forever.

A voice cursed nearby. "They couldn’t have gone far."

The light drifted away, footsteps crunching in the opposite direction.

Henry didn’t move for another long moment, listening. Only when the night swallowed the noise did he straighten and help Emma up. "They’ll circle back. We run now."

Emma nodded, her throat tight. She didn’t look back as they plunged deeper into the forest but she could still feel Alex’s rage burning behind them, waiting for the next chance to strike.

Henry dragged her through the undergrowth, his grip firm but careful. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each step fueled by sheer panic. Somewhere behind them, Alex’s curses still echoed faintly, a reminder that he was close... too close.

Then, through the break in the trees, a faint glimmer of headlights. They emerged onto a deserted stretch of road. A battered transport truck idled by the side, its engine humming softly. The driver was a few feet away, relieving himself into the bushes, his back turned.

Henry’s eyes sharpened. "This is it," he whispered.

He tugged Emma toward the truck’s rear, moving low and silent. With quick, practiced hands, he pulled a small tool from his pocket, slipped it into the lock, and twisted. The padlock clicked open with barely a sound.

"Inside," he urged.

Emma hesitated only a second before climbing into the pitch-black cargo space. Henry followed, easing the door shut until only a thin sliver of light remained... then clicked.

They froze.

The driver had stopped walking. His head tilted slightly, as if catching the faintest noise. Henry’s muscles went rigid, one hand on the pistol at his hip.

A tense pause. The driver glanced toward the truck’s rear, frowned... then shrugged, zipping up and muttering something under his breath before climbing into the cab.

The engine revved, and the truck lurched forward, carrying them away from the forest... and away from Alex.

Emma’s trembling hand found Henry’s arm. He didn’t speak, but his steady presence told her what she needed to know... for now, they were safe.

The truck rattled down the uneven road, its vibrations humming through the metal walls. Emma’s breathing was still shaky, but Henry’s steady grip on her arm anchored her. Outside, the forest slipped away into darkness.

______________________

Meanwhile, back among the trees, Alex stood still, listening to the night. The air carried no sound of running feet... just the rustle of leaves. His men fanned out, searching, but the quiet stretched on.

Alex’s eyes scanned the ground... broken twigs, disturbed dirt but the trail ended abruptly. A sour twist pulled at his mouth.

Minutes later, the men regrouped. "Nothing, boss. They’re gone."

Alex’s head snapped toward the speaker. "Gone?" His voice was silk over steel.

"They just... vanished. No tracks, no..."

The crack of a gunshot split the air. The man froze mid-sentence, eyes wide as a bullet tore into the dirt inches from his boot.

"Gone?" Alex repeated, stepping closer, his gun now leveled at the man’s knee. "Do I look like someone who wants excuses?"

The man swallowed hard. "No, sir."

Alex’s jaw flexed. He lowered the gun but didn’t holster it, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Find them... or pray I never do."

With that, he turned, striding away with a predator’s calm, the metallic click of the safety on his gun echoing in the tense silence.

__________________________

The first pale light of dawn slipped through the tall windows, painting the living room in muted gold. Logan hadn’t slept a wink.

He had spent the night in his study, the weight of Jean’s past pressing on him like a vice. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her in that cruel memory she never should’ve lived through... Alone, terrified, betrayed by the people who were supposed to protect her.

And him... blaming her, judging her, never once thinking there might be a truth buried too deep for her to share.

He rubbed his temples and let out a long breath. He couldn’t undo the past, but he could start over. Today, he would.

Logan pushed himself up from the chair and made his way to her room, rehearsing in his head what he would say. He’d knock softly, maybe tease her about still being asleep, and then tell her... no, promise her... that he’d be different.

But when he opened the door, the words died in his throat.

The bed was made. Perfectly. The pillows were undisturbed, the blanket folded neatly at the foot.

"Jean?" He called, his voice tighter than he meant.

Silence answered him.

He stepped inside, scanning the room... no handbag, no phone on the nightstand, no shoes by the door. A flicker of unease gripped him.

"Jean!"

Logan’s voice rang louder this time as he strode down the hallway, checking the kitchen, the balcony, the guest room. Nothing. He even checked the laundry room and the garage, his pulse quickening with every step.

By the time he made it to the front door, his chest was a storm of dread. The security panel’s green light blinked steadily. No forced entry. No triggered alarms. She had simply... left.

But why? And where the hell would she go?

Logan’s hands curled into fists. This wasn’t just her walking out... something was wrong.