Chapter 8 Life Attempt

Kylie stood before the mirror, dabbing a deep red onto her lips. Her reflection smiled back, but it wasn't the same girl who once dreamed of fairytale endings. No, that girl was gone. In her place stood a woman who knew exactly what she wanted-and exactly what stood in her way.

She picked up her phone, dialing a number she hadn't used in years. When the line clicked, she spoke without greeting.

"I need it done."

A pause. Then a gruff voice replied, "Target?"

"Lindsay." Kylie's lips curled. "Make it clean. Quiet. I don't want it traced back to me."

The line went dead. Kylie set the phone down and turned back to the mirror, satisfied. "One last loose end," she whispered.

Meanwhile, across the city, Lindsay was resting in her hospital bed, her mind drifting between sleep and wakefulness. Maria had stepped out to get coffee, leaving the room dim and quiet.

A shadow flickered outside the door. The handle turned. Slowly.

Inside, Lindsay stirred, sensing movement. Her gaze landed on the door just as it opened a crack.

But it wasn't a nurse.

A figure in black slipped inside, closing the door silently behind him.

Lindsay's breath hitched. Her hand slid beneath the blanket, fingers brushing the nurse's call button.

The assassin stepped closer, a glint of steel flashing beneath his coat. His eyes were flat, cold. Professional.

But before he could take another step, a sharp knock rattled the door.

"Lindsay? I forgot my wallet-" Maria's voice called brightly from the hall.

The assassin froze. Lindsay's finger jammed the call button.

Alarms blared. Footsteps pounded toward the room. The assassin cursed under his breath, spun, and vaulted out the window in one smooth motion.

Maria burst inside, wide-eyed. "What happened?!"

Lindsay's chest heaved. "Call the police."

As hospital security scrambled below, Maria grabbed her hand, squeezing tight. "You're not safe here."

Lindsay looked out the shattered window, where the night swallowed the fleeing shadow. A shiver ran down her spine.

Somewhere, out there, someone wanted her gone.

And she wasn't sure if Brandon-or anyone-could protect her this time.

The hospital was no longer safe. Lindsay knew it the moment the window shattered.

"We have to go," she said, already swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Go where?" Maria hovered nervously, glancing at the door as security guards rushed past.

"Anywhere but here." Lindsay yanked out her IV and grabbed her jacket from the chair. "He won't stop. You saw it."

Maria swallowed hard but nodded. "I parked downstairs. Come on."

They moved fast, Lindsay leaning on Maria as they navigated the sterile halls. Nurses tried to stop them, but Lindsay waved them off with practiced calm. "Discharged myself. Emergency."

Outside, the night air was sharp against her skin. Maria's car sat under a flickering streetlamp. They hurried across the lot, but Lindsay's instincts prickled-something wasn't right.

A dark figure leaned against the car.

Not security. Not staff.

Maria cursed under her breath. "It's him, isn't it?"

"No," Lindsay murmured, scanning the lot. "But he's waiting."

A second figure emerged from behind another car.

"We're boxed in."

Maria gripped her keys tighter. "We make a run for it."

"They'll catch us."

"Then what?"

Lindsay's eyes darted to the ambulance bay. "We take one of those."

Maria hesitated. "Steal an ambulance?"

"Unless you want to die tonight, yes."

Without waiting for agreement, Lindsay bolted, weaving between parked cars, Maria right behind her. The men shouted, giving chase.

They reached the bay as a paramedic stepped out for a smoke. Lindsay didn't slow. "Emergency! Need this vehicle!"

The startled medic dropped his cigarette. Maria yanked open the door, shoving Lindsay inside before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Keys-"

"They're here!" Lindsay warned.

The medic, confused but alarmed, tossed the keys into Maria's hands. "What the hell's going on?!"

"Call the police!" Maria shouted as she slammed the door shut.

The engine roared to life. Tires screeched. The ambulance shot forward, tearing out of the lot just as the men reached the curb, one of them slamming a fist against the rear door.

Inside, Lindsay's breath came fast and shallow. She stared at her reflection in the side mirror-pale, exhausted, but alive.

Maria gripped the wheel, eyes locked on the road. "Where to?"

"Somewhere they can't find me," Lindsay murmured.

"Any idea who sent them?"

Lindsay's jaw tightened. "I think I do."

Behind them, the hospital lights faded into the night. Ahead, only darkness-and uncertainty.

But Lindsay wasn't ready to give up yet.

The ambulance rumbled down the highway, its siren off but lights still flashing faintly beneath the stars. Maria's hands stayed clenched on the wheel, eyes flicking nervously to the rearview mirror.

"They're not following," she said, voice low but tense.

"For now," Lindsay replied. She sat hunched in the back, pressing gauze over the IV mark on her arm, her pulse still thudding from the chase.

Maria glanced at her. "Where do we go? We can't go to my place. Can't go to yours."

"I know someone," Lindsay said, finally lifting her gaze. "Take the interstate north. There's a safe house past the ridge."

Maria raised an eyebrow. "You've had a safe house this whole time?"

"Didn't think I'd need it." Lindsay's lips twitched into something between a smile and a grimace. "Guess I was wrong."

The drive stretched into silence, broken only by the occasional hum of passing trucks. At dawn, they pulled off onto a narrow dirt road lined with dense pines. Maria slowed as the trees closed in around them.

"There's nothing here," she murmured.

"Exactly," Lindsay said. She leaned forward. "Keep going. Look for a gate on the left."

Sure enough, an old iron gate appeared, half-hidden by vines. Maria stopped the car, and Lindsay climbed out, fumbling with a key tucked inside her necklace. She unlocked the gate, swinging it open just enough to let them through.

Beyond lay a weathered cabin, surrounded by quiet woods. The air smelled of moss and earth, damp from the early morning dew.

Maria parked close to the porch. "Cozy," she muttered.

"Safe," Lindsay corrected. She led the way inside, flipping a hidden switch that powered on a generator. Dim lights flickered to life.

The cabin was small but functional: a cot, a stove, a worn armchair by the fireplace. Lindsay dropped into the chair with a weary sigh.

Maria looked around. "How long can we stay here?"

"As long as we need."

Maria hesitated, then asked quietly, "Do you think Brandon knows?"

Lindsay's jaw tightened. "If he doesn't yet, he will soon."

Maria sat on the edge of the cot, watching her friend carefully. "You're not just running from Kylie's men, are you?"

Lindsay met her eyes, steady and cold. "I'm running from everything tied to him. And from whatever she's planning next."

Outside, the wind stirred the trees, whispering through the leaves.

Maria stood. "I'll lock down the perimeter. You rest."

As the door shut behind her, Lindsay leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Her body ached, but her mind spun with questions, half-formed plans, threads of suspicion winding tighter.

A phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out-an unknown number. Her thumb hovered over the answer button, but she let it ring until it went silent.

Then it buzzed again. This time, a message.

"You think you're safe?"

No signature.

Lindsay's fingers curled around the phone. Her chest rose and fell, slower now, steadier.

"Not yet," she whispered aloud.

She set the phone down, staring into the growing light outside the window, waiting.