Chapter 5 The Demon Looms

Millie dropped the phone like it burned her.

No. It couldn't be. It couldn't be.

The voice still echoed in her head. "Hey, sweetheart."

That drawl. That mocking calm. It was him.

"Are you okay?" the caretaker asked, watching her carefully from behind the desk.

Millie didn't answer. Her legs moved before her mind caught up, stumbling toward the hallway like a marionette cut from its strings. She didn't stop until she was inside her room with the door locked behind her. She collapsed against it, her chest rising and falling too fast.

How did Dan find her? How?

Alex said she'd be safe here.

She curled up on the twin bed, arms hugging her knees. The room was plain-beige walls, a single dresser, a worn blue comforter-but now it felt like a cage that held her down until the predators came strolling in.

How did he know where she was?

Millie stared at the burner phone Alex had given her. She didn't want to use it but her fingers reached for it anyway.

There was a number stored on it already.

She didn't dial. Not yet.

Instead, her mind wandered-unwillingly-to the night before. The way Alex had looked at her when he thought she wasn't watching. The weight of his body beside hers. The slow, almost reverent way he had kissed her.

She remembered the way he hadn't said goodbye.

Not even a look back when he closed the shelter door behind him.

Millie had stood there, holding the burner phone he shoved into her hand like it was a transaction. She felt so lonely especially because the same man who'd killed to protect her now looked at her like she was just another job.

***

Alex leaned against the hood of his car, cigarette between his lips, eyes narrowed at the street in front of the shelter.

He hadn't moved for twenty minutes.

He'd dropped her off. Done the right thing. Got her to safety. That was the job.

So why did it feel like he just left something behind that he couldn't get back?

He should've told her to be careful. Should've said her name one more time.

Instead, he left.

He hadn't allowed himself to feel anything in years. Not since Rico died. Not since the streets swallowed his soul whole. But Millie-quiet, broken, brave Millie-had clawed into the one part of him he thought was dead.

Alex cursed under his breath, crushed the cigarette under his boot, and got into the car.

He had business to handle.

The kind that didn't wait for emotions.

***

Millie wiped her tears and stood. She had to do something.

She walked back down to the caretaker's office, her voice shaky. "Did the call leave a number?"

The older woman nodded slowly. "It was blocked. But he asked for you by name. Said it was urgent. You okay, honey?"

Millie forced a nod. "I just need some air."

Outside, the city felt colder than before. She pulled her hoodie tight and looked both ways down the street.

Was he watching her?

Did Dan know where she was?

Her hands trembled as she pulled the burner phone from her pocket.

She stared at it for a while then pressed call.

It rang just once.

"Millie?"

His voice was sharp. Alert.

She hadn't realized how badly she needed to hear it. He had a way of pronouncing her name as if the two short syllables mattered more than anything.

"Alex....someone called the shelter," she whispered. "It was Dan."

A pause.

"Are you sure?"

"He said... he said, 'Hey, sweetheart.' I'd know that voice anywhere."

Another pause. Then, "I'm coming."

That was all.

The line went dead.

She stood frozen, staring at the phone. No "where are you?"

She should've felt better.

But something deep inside her told her that Dan wasn't just calling.

He was close.

And when Alex arrived, he'd be walking into a trap.

***

Across the street from the shelter, a brown haired man lowered his burner phone with a twisted grin.

"Looks like the little mouse brought her guard dog," he muttered, tapping ash off his cigarette.

"Let's see how good he really is."