Amyra's POV

"Then what?" Reynolds' voice rang from the door. "Then what? You'll kill me, kill her, and kill yourself. Then what? Do you think it will be over after that? Because I swear, even if I'm dead, I'll make sure you pay."

Charles was quiet as he turned around slowly. His gaze locked with Reynolds, and a wry smile spread across his lips, followed by a soft chuckle. He tightened his fists, taking a step forward toward Reynolds. "Ten years ago, we were best friends." He continued his dramatic approach without stopping. "We did practically everything together, except funerals, I suppose."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Reynolds looked at him in bewilderment. "You've lost your mind, and it's obvious."

"How does it feel to be without a father? How does it feel to be without a friend? How does it feel to be oppressed? How does it feel to go from eating at a golden table to eating on the floor because you were accused of a crime you didn't commit? I suppose you wouldn't know, Reynolds." He spat the words at him. "You wouldn't know because you're the one who used me and dumped me."

I was confused, and it seemed that even Reynolds didn't understand what Charles was saying. "You raped my girlfriend, and you have the guts to talk to me like this? I should have killed you when I had the chance." Reynolds launched a punch aimed at Charles, but he missed. Charles was quick to retaliate, but Reynolds dodged as well.

Almost immediately, with Charles distracted, men darted into the room, guns drawn and pointed at him. "We aren't going to harm you because we believe you might be mentally unstable. Just come with us." Their instructions were clear, and Charles had no choice. He raised his hands in surrender and walked with them out of the room.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as Reynolds looked down at me. "Thank you," I whispered, shutting my eyes. I wasn't unconscious; I was just tired and still feeling the trauma. But I was at peace because I knew he had saved me and wouldn’t let any harm come to me. He untied me and took me into his arms. Finally, everything was as I wanted it. Maybe this was where our story would continue.

As we drove along the road, I wondered where he was taking me and whether that lady was his fiancée. I wondered what he thought of me and whether he still wanted to be with me. Nothing mattered more to me than the fact that after ten years, I felt his hand on my body again. My head rested on his chest until we arrived at our destination, wherever it was.

"Is this the most secure hospital in the country?" Reynolds asked as we arrived.

"It is," the man who met us confirmed.

I was in the most secure hospital. I was safe. I was with Reynolds. I was safe. I felt him lift me again and carry me up the stairs. Memories flashed through my mind. I recalled those nights we spent at motels in remote parts of the city because we didn’t want his mother to call any of the big hotels and check if we were there.

"Amyra, I'll always come for you." Those were his words to me a decade ago. Although he didn’t show up in the past ten years probably because I shut down every entrance he could have used he did today. Reynolds meant it when he said he wouldn’t let me go, even after his mother had threatened to disown him.

I felt him place me on the bed, and I whimpered slightly as my eyes fluttered open. "You're awake," he said, sitting next to me on the bed. "Are you okay?" I gave a slight nod. My headache, but I was okay. "Are you sure?" He took my hand. "I can't believe I'm holding you again, Amyra. I thought you were dead."

"Did anyone tell you that I was dead?"

"No, no one did. But for God's sake, you vanished. I searched and searched."

I smiled as tears began to gather in my eyes. I recalled how his mother had pressured me to let him go—the million-dollar check she offered that I declined. That money would have saved my younger brother's life, but I didn’t want it. I sighed, my heart heavy with bitterness and the truth. "I’m here, Reynolds. I’m not dead. When I feel better, I'll tell you everything."

"Well then, you need to start resting because I need you to get better as soon as possible. I need to know what happened."

"Charles didn’t do it," I said. "I'll tell you everything when I’m stronger. My head hurts."

Reynolds wore a confused expression. "But..." He looked at me quizzically. "Okay," he said with a shrug. "Even though it's a long wait, I'm willing to let you recover. That's all I want for you to feel better."

"That lady, the beautiful woman with hazel eyes... Is she your fiancée?" I asked, watching him closely, my heart nearly stopping.

"I had no choice, Amyra."

My heart sank as I slammed my eyes shut. "I understand. It was me who left, anyway."

"We aren't married yet," he was quick to add. "The wedding is in a month. We can still work things out between us. I don't love her, Amyra. I swear I don’t."

"It doesn't matter," I said slowly, opening my eyes. The light was painful, but I was trying to get used to it. "She loves you, and she is engaged to you."

"Amyra!" The door was opened by a tall man in a black jacket and leather pants. "How are you doing?" He approached my bed quickly but was stopped by Reynolds, who stood in his way with a frown.

"How did you even get in here?" Reynolds was puzzled.

"I think I should ask you that question. Who the hell are you? I'm Jake, and I believe Amyra must have mentioned me to you during your conversation."

Reynolds turned to look at me. I gave a nod and a soft smile. "I know him," I said to Reynolds. "Hi, Jake. How did you find me? I bet you’re worried sick. It’s been a crazy night, but I swear that I’m fine now.”