Alyssa’s POV
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, masking the sound of my footsteps as I stormed into Ethan’s temporary hideout. The abandoned factory loomed around me, its decaying walls and shattered windows a perfect reflection of my crumbling emotions.
My chest heaved with the effort of chasing after him, but the fire burning inside me had nothing to do with exertion.
“Ethan!” I called out, my voice echoing in the cavernous space. The dim light barely illuminated the figure leaning against a rusted metal beam. He didn’t move, didn’t even look up, but I could feel the weight of his silence bearing down on me.
I marched closer, my wet boots slamming against the concrete floor. “We’re done playing this game. You’re going to tell me what’s really going on, right now.”
He sighed, finally lifting his head to meet my gaze. The shadows under his eyes seemed darker, his face sharper, as though he’d aged years in just days. “I told you to stay out of this,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.
“You don’t get to make that call,” I snapped, my hands curling into fists. “Not when you’re walking around acting like you’ve already given up. What’s wrong with you, Ethan? What are you hiding?”
He pushed off the beam, his movements slow, deliberate. “You don’t want to know, Alyssa.”
“Try me.” My voice was a mix of defiance and desperation, my heart hammering against my ribcage. “You don’t get to shut me out like this. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might snap. Then, as if something inside him broke, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his damp hair. “Fine. You want the truth? Here it is.”
I braced myself, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next.
“I’m dying, Alyssa.”
The words hit me like a freight train, knocking the air out of my lungs. I stumbled back a step, my mind refusing to process what I’d just heard. “What… what are you talking about?” My voice was barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief.
He looked down, his expression raw, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. “I have a terminal illness. It’s aggressive, untreatable. The doctors gave me months, maybe less. That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I have to end things with Xavier-because I won’t be around to do it later.”
I shook my head, my throat tightening as tears blurred my vision. “No. No, that can’t be true. There has to be something-some treatment, some cure-”
“There’s nothing,” he interrupted, his tone harsh but his eyes filled with sorrow. “I’ve been to every specialist, tried every option. It’s done, Alyssa. My time is running out, and I can’t change that.”
My knees threatened to give out beneath me, but I forced myself to stay upright, to meet his gaze. “You were going to do this alone,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You were going to leave me without even telling me.”
“You think I wanted this?” he shot back, his own anger flaring. “You think I wanted to drag you into my mess, make you watch me fall apart piece by piece?”
“I don’t care about the mess, Ethan!” I shouted, the words ripping out of me like a dam breaking. “I care about you! And you don’t get to make decisions for me. You don’t get to decide what I can handle or how I feel.”
He stared at me, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. For a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing and the tension between us.
But the silence didn’t last.
A sudden crash shattered the fragile stillness, followed by the unmistakable sound of heavy boots on concrete. I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat as figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured but their intentions clear.
Xavier’s men.
“Ethan,” I said, my voice urgent as I reached for the small handgun tucked into my waistband. “We’ve got company.”
He was already moving, pulling a knife from his boot with the practiced ease of someone who’d been in too many fights. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice all business now. “We’re getting out of here.”
But I wasn’t about to let him take the lead, not after everything he’d just confessed. “Like hell I’m staying behind,” I muttered, raising my weapon as the first attacker lunged toward us.
The next few minutes were a blur of chaos and adrenaline. I fired off two quick shots, dropping one of the men as Ethan engaged another in a brutal hand-to-hand fight. The sound of fists connecting with flesh echoed in the cavernous space, mingling with the sharp crack of gunfire and the shouts of our enemies.
“On your left!” Ethan barked, and I barely had time to turn before another man charged at me. I ducked his swing, driving my elbow into his ribs and firing a shot into his leg. He crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain, and I spun around to find Ethan still holding his own against two attackers.
Despite his skill, I could see the toll it was taking on him. His movements were slower than usual, his breathing labored. My heart clenched as I realized just how much his illness was already affecting him.
“Fall back!” I shouted, moving to his side and taking down one of his opponents with a well-placed shot. “We need to get out of here!”
He nodded, but before we could retreat, another wave of men appeared, blocking our exit. My stomach dropped as I counted them-six, maybe seven-and realized we were outnumbered.
“Got any bright ideas?” I asked, glancing at Ethan as I reloaded my gun.
“Just one,” he said grimly, his eyes scanning the room. “We make them regret coming after us.”
And with that, we charged.
The fight was brutal, chaotic, and utterly exhausting. By the time the last man fell, my arms were trembling, and my breaths came in ragged gasps. Ethan leaned heavily against a nearby pillar, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead.
“We need to move,” he said, his voice strained. “They’ll send reinforcements.”
I nodded, holstering my gun as I helped him to his feet. “This isn’t over, Ethan. You and I-we’re not done talking about this.”
He gave me a weary look but didn’t argue. Together, we stumbled out into the rain, our bodies battered but our resolve stronger than ever.
And as we disappeared into the night, one thought burned in my mind: Xavier might have sent his men to kill us, but he’d made one fatal mistake.
He underestimated how far I was willing to go to protect the man I loved.
But just as I allowed myself a flicker of hope, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out with trembling hands, my stomach sinking as I read the message that appeared on the screen.
“We’re not finished, Alyssa. This was just the beginning.”
And attached to the message was a video-a video of Xavier himself, smiling cruelly as he held something up for the camera.
It was a photo of Ethan and me. A target painted over both our faces.