Chapter 1 - The Shadow in the Sunlight
The question hung in the air like a heavy curtain,
suffocating the smells of cumin and burnt sugar.
I stared at the man from Table 17,
his presence filling the small space between the counter and the kitchen.
He was tall,
looming over me with a quiet authority that made the bustling restaurant feel miles away.
My pulse throbbed in my ears,
a rhythmic drumming that drowned out the upbeat mariachi music.
"Nobody,"
I whispered,
the word catching in my dry throat.
He didn't move,
but his eyes darkened,
tracing the frantic rise and fall of my chest.
"Liars usually look away,"
he remarked,
his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.
"But you,
you’re staring at me like I’m the monster under your bed."
I gripped the edge of my apron,
feeling the sharp corner of my phone through the fabric.
Another buzz,
a short,
violent vibration against my hip.
I flinched,
my eyes darting toward the front door.
"I have to get back to work,"
I stammered,
trying to edge past him.
He didn't grab me,
but he shifted his weight,
effectively blocking the only path to the kitchen.
"The man sending those messages,"
he said,
ignoring my plea,
"he is close,
isn't he?"
My breath hitched,
and the truth spilled out in a shaky exhale.
"How do you know?"
He glanced at my trembling hands,
then back to my face.
"Because I know how a hunter watches his prey,"
he said simply.
"And I know how the prey looks when the trap is closing."
I looked at his friends at the table,
who were now watching us with cold,
calculated interest.
They weren't just customers,
they were soldiers.
And the man in front of me was their general.
"Please,"
I whispered,
tears stinging my eyes.
"I just want to finish my shift."
"You won't finish your shift,"
he countered,
stepping closer until I could smell sandalwood and expensive leather.
"Because if you stay here,
he’s going to walk through those doors and take you."
I felt the world tilt,
just as I had when he first touched my wrist.
He knew Caleb.
Or at least,
he knew the kind of man Caleb was.
The bell above the door chimed,
a cheerful sound that felt like a death knell.
A man in a gray hoodie stepped in,
his face obscured,
but I knew that gait.
I knew the way he carried his shoulders,
stiff with a simmering rage.
My heart stopped.
The man from Table 17 saw my face pale.
Without a word,
he reached out and took my hand.
His grip was firm,
warm,
and absolute.
"Don't look back,"
he commanded.
"Walk with me."
I didn't argue.
I couldn't.
As we walked toward the back exit,
I felt the weight of Caleb’s gaze on my spine.
The kitchen door swung shut behind us,
the heat of the stoves hitting me like a physical blow.
"Mateo,"
one of the men from the table said,
appearing behind us as if out of thin air.
"The car is ready."
Mateo.
The name sounded like a prayer and a warning all at once.
He didn't let go of my hand,
pulling me through the narrow hallway toward the alley.
Behind us,
I heard the sound of a chair flipping over,
and a voice I had heard in my nightmares screamed my name.
"Elena!"
I stumbled,
but Mateo caught me,
his arm wrapping around my waist.
"Keep moving,"
he growled.
We burst into the blinding Arizona heat of the alleyway.
A black SUV sat idling,
its tinted windows reflecting the harsh sun.
The door was open,
waiting.
I looked at Mateo,
the man I didn't know,
and then back at the door we had just exited.
Caleb was there,
his face twisted in a mask of possessive fury.
"Get in,"
Mateo said,
his voice leaving no room for negotiation.
I climbed into the cool,
leather-scented interior of the car.
As Mateo slid in beside me and slammed the door,
the world outside vanished.
We surged forward,
tires screeching against the asphalt.
I looked at my hands,
still shaking,
and then at the man beside me.
"Who are you?"
I asked,
my voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.
He leaned back,
the shadows of the car masking his features.
"The man who is going to make sure he never finds you again,"
he replied.
May you like
"But first,
you’re going to tell me everything."
