Page 114 of When the Smoke Clears

Haunted shadows cross Gabe’s face. “It appears he had a hand in it. That’s why Luke went to confront him. I begged him to wait, but he wouldn’t listen. He made me promise to stay here and keep you safe.”

My voice cracks into a near scream. “But who’s keeping him safe?”

Gabe scrubs his stubbled jaw, eyes dark, his whole body tense as if restraining himself from smashing something. “That’s why I called a couple of old friends. Guys I served with. They’re contractors now. They’ll be in town within the hour.”

My pulse races faster. “We have to find Luke. He went to his parents’ house, right? We can drive over there⁠—”

“No.” Gabe’s voice is iron, sharp as steel. “Luke made me promise to keep you away from Nathaniel at all costs. For reasons we still don’t fully understand, the guy’s got it out for you.”

My heart clenches painfully. Nathaniel had always been distant, but never openly cruel. Never the monster Gabe paints now.

My brain rebels against it, replaying memories. His ire was evident to Luke through disapproving looks and clipped remarks, but I never once suspected him of anything like this.

“I can’t believe this,” I whisper, pressing palms against my skull. “He never gave a single hint.”

“There’s a lot we don’t know about Nathaniel Wild. But right now, the priority is keeping you safe until Luke checks in.”

The words grate like sandpaper. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Gabe steps forward, gaze steady, voice low but sure. “I do. His top priority is your safety. He’ll fight his way back to you no matter what.”

His stance widens, arms folding across his chest like a barricade. “So, we wait.”

I deflate, shoulders sagging. The idea of waiting, of being passive while Luke puts himself in danger, gnaws at me until I can’t breathe. “Fine. I’ll get dressed.”

As I make my way down the hall, I hear Gabe slip out the back door again, probably to finish his phone call.

In the bedroom, I inhale deeply, trying to steady myself with the faint comfort of fabric softener and Luke’s cologne clinging to the sheets. My jeans and faded gray T-shirt lie draped over a chair. My fingers tremble as I pull them on, the cotton no barrier against the cold dread coiling low in my stomach.

I can’t just sit here.

Or…should I?

The thought hits like a slap. If I stay put, Luke knows where I am. If I leave, I become unpredictable—easy to lose, easier to target. But doing nothing feels like surrender, and doing something feels like lighting a match in a room full of gasoline. The pressure makes my chest tighten until every breath feels like a betrayal.

This is all because of me. If I’d never come back, Luke wouldn’t be bleeding for my ghosts. He wouldn’t be out there hunting a man who might be hunting him. Every consequence loops back to the same unbearable truth: I’m the reason he’s in danger.

My hands press against my thighs, trying to stop the shaking. I don’t know what I can do, but I can’t sit here. I won’t.

Maybe I could help search for Nathaniel? Maybe I could find him first, try to reason with him?

I could leave. I’ve done it before. I could promise him I’ll go, and this time I won’t break it, not for anything. If disappearing keeps Luke alive, I’ll do it. I’ll become a ghost again.

My nails dig into my palms. It would destroy me to walk away from Luke. But his life is worth my heart.

I close my eyes, shaking, the truth slicing clean through the chaos: no matter what I decide, someone gets hurt. And it isn’t going to be Luke.

I slip into the bathroom and twist the shower handle. Water rushes into the tub, the hiss filling the room. If Gabe is listening, it sounds like I’m following the routine.

I cross towards the small window opposite the tub. It overlooks a dense forest; the drop isn’t far—just a short leap into pine needles and dirt.

My breath hitches as I shove the window upward, the frame groaning in protest. For a heartbeat, I hesitate, imagining Luke’s disappointment if he knew I was disobeying him. But then I imagine him facing Nathaniel alone.

That decides it.

Cold air knifes up under my shirt as I swing my legs over the sill. The drop isn’t far, but my stomach still lurches when my feet hit the forest floor, needles crunching underfoot. For one breathless second, I just crouch there, lungs burning, listening for Gabe’s shout that never comes.

At the property’s edge, I glance back once, expecting to see him bursting out, fury in his eyes. But the cabin remains still, deceptively peaceful. Relief flickers through me.