Chapter 12
544words
Lydia trembled as she gave the motel name and room number.
Then she sat on that cold bed like a prisoner awaiting sentencing, listening to frantic footsteps through the phone growing closer.
Time stretched into a century, yet passed in an instant.
The door flew open with a thunderous BANG.
Caleb Miller stood in the doorway, drenched in sweat, his black T-shirt clinging to his heaving chest. His bloodshot eyes—usually so clear—now burned like coals, fixed on her with emotions she'd never seen before: fury, pain, fear, and profound relief.
Without a word, he strode toward her.
Lydia instinctively wanted to retreat, but her body wouldn't obey.
In the next second, she was pulled into a powerful, possessive embrace, crushed against his chest. He held her so tightly, as if trying to embed her into his very being—as if only this could confirm she still existed.
"You..." He wanted to speak, to demand why she'd left, to curse her for torturing him. But all words collapsed into one hoarse whisper filled with endless fear, repeatedly murmured in her ear.
"Lydia... Lydia..."
He cupped her face, giving her no chance to think or escape, silencing her unspoken sobs with a kiss like a violent storm—punishment mixed with desire.
This kiss wasn't probing or taking from either side, but the instinctive entanglement of two souls struggling in despair's abyss, confirming each other's existence.
He kissed away cold tears from her cheeks, moving from lips to jaw to vulnerable neck. His rough, callused fingers caressed the slender scar on her wrist, as if smoothing away all wounds.
This cheap, dilapidated motel became their island against the world.
That creaking bed with coarse sheets became their battlefield against death.
They possessed each other in the most primal, intense way—each forceful collision, each deeper union a defiant roar against invisible, predetermined fate.
In that weightless moment of climax and descent, Lydia clutched Caleb's back, burying her face against his shoulder, finally revealing the dark secret that had tormented her for months.
Her voice broke between gasps and sobs, fragmentary.
"Caleb... I might die... tonight..."
The arms holding her suddenly tightened.
"I'm not crazy... I saw it... the accident... the warehouse..." she rambled incoherently. "Damian... he arranged everything... they're coming..."
She expected him to think her insane.
But he didn't.
Caleb simply held her more forcefully, then lifted her face to meet his eyes. His gaze in the dim light was stubborn and determined.
"Then together."
He looked into her eyes, his voice hoarse but carrying undeniable strength.
"I'll stay with you."
"Don't be afraid."
He replaced all unnecessary comfort with a deeper kiss.
After their passion, neither fell asleep.
The midnight bells were about to toll.
Lydia curled in Caleb's embrace like a young animal seeking shelter. Caleb held her firmly, like a knight guarding his treasure.
They nestled together in silence, listening to the old quartz clock, its tick-tock like death's approaching footsteps.
Outside, the flickering neon "Vacancy" sign cast ghastly green light on their entwined bodies.
*Ding—dong—*
The clock struck midnight at last.
Lydia shuddered violently in his arms.
Caleb held her tighter, his arms forming an indestructible wall around her.
