ROLAND’S POV
I stood in the shadows, my phone clutched tightly in my hand as I replayed the conversation in my mind. My partner’s words had been cryptic.
“We can’t just grab her yet, Roland. We need to set the stage,
create the right events so everything looks seamless.”
What exactly did that mean? I’d pressed him for more, but he’d only smirked, his usual way of letting me know I wasn’t going to get any answers. Now, hours later, I still felt unsettled.
I didn’t like being in the dark, especially not when it came to something as significant as this.
My gut told me my partner’s plan involved more than he was letting on, and that didn’t sit well with me. But I had no choice. For now, I had to trust him.
Or at least pretend to.
The vibration of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. Sasha’s name lit up the screen, and I answered immediately.
“Roland,” she said, her voice trembling. “There’s someone outside the house.”
My blood ran cold. “What do you mean, someone outside? Did you see them?”
“No, not really,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I heard noises… footsteps. And I think I saw a shadow by the window. I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining things, but”
“You’re not imagining anything,” I interrupted, already heading for my car.
“Listen to me, Sasha. Stay inside. Lock all the doors and windows. Don’t go anywhere, do you hear me? I’m on my way.”
“But”
“No buts,” I snapped, harsher than I intended. “Just do as I say. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I ended the call before she could argue and started the engine, my mind racing.
If there really was someone outside, it couldn’t be a coincidence. My partner had said we needed to set the stage, and now Sasha was calling me about strange noises and shadows. It had to be connected.
But why?
As I sped through the city streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being manipulated. My partner’s plan was unfolding, and I wasn’t sure I liked where it was headed.
When I finally pulled up to Sebastian and Sasha’s house, the sight on the front lawn stopped me in my tracks.
There he was. My so-called partner. Standing in the open like he owned the place, a knife glinting in his hand under the dim light of the porch. He spotted me immediately and gave a subtle nod as a signal.
I understood what he wanted.
Gripping the steering wheel, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. This was part of the act. Part of the plan. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
I got out of the car, keeping my movements deliberate. My partner’s eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the challenge in his gaze.
Without a word, I launched myself at him.
The clash was immediate and violent, a flurry of motion and sharp edges. My partner swung the knife at me, and I dodged, narrowly avoiding the blade.
I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I countered, delivering a blow to his side.
He staggered but didn’t go down. Instead, he came at me again, the knife slicing through the air. This time, I didn’t move fast enough.
The blade grazed my shoulder, cutting through fabric and skin. I hissed in pain, but I didn’t let it stop me. If anything, it only fueled my resolve.
I retaliated with a punch to his jaw, and the force sent him stumbling backward. He faltered, his grip on the knife loosening, but he didn’t drop it. Instead, he turned and bolted, disappearing into the night.
I stood there for a moment, catching my breath and clutching my bleeding shoulder. My partner was gone, but the damage had been done.
I’d played my part.
The scene had been set.
But for what?
As I stood there, staring at the spot where my partner had vanished, the front door opened. Sasha appeared, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear.
“Roland!” she cried, rushing toward me. “Oh my God, you’re hurt!”
“I’m fine,” I said, though the pain in my shoulder begged to differ. “It’s just a scratch.”
“What happened? Who was that?” she demanded, her voice trembling.
I hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. “I don’t know,” I lied. “Some lunatic with a knife. But he’s gone now. You’re safe.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she ushered me inside, her concern for me outweighing her fear.
Once we were in the house, she locked the door behind us and led me to the kitchen. She grabbed a first aid kit from one of the cabinets and set to work cleaning and bandaging my wound.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, watching her as she worked.
She glanced up at me, her eyes softening. “You scared me,” she admitted. “When I heard the noise and saw the shadow… I thought”
“You don’t have to worry,” I interrupted, placing a hand on hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her lips trembled, and for a moment, I thought she might cry. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.
“I trust you,” she said softly.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. She trusted me. If only she knew the truth.
As I sat there, letting her tend to my wound, I couldn’t help but wonder how long that trust would last. My partner’s plan was in motion, and I was too deep to back out now.
But no matter what happened, one thing was certain. Sasha deserved better than this. And for the first time, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it.