Chapter 6 Meeting Them

• Alissia POV
• I wake up early—five o’clock early. Who in their right mind wants to meet at 6 a.m.? Last night, Jenni told me it’s likely because it’s quiet—easier to kill me without people seeing or hearing. That lovely thought clings to me as I lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’ve completely lost it.
• Everything in my mind is screaming at me to stop. To shut this down, to not meet these people, to walk away. It’s insane, and any rational person would probably run. But I can’t. There’s this part of me, the part I admit is fucking stupid and not sane, that keeps whispering, Think of the book. Think of how popular it’ll be when people find out the truth behind it.
• I know it’s crazy. And yet, here I am.
• I drag myself out of bed and stand in front of my laptop, staring at it like it’s the enemy. Last night freaked me out. Someone hacked into my laptop—my laptop! So much for Jake ensuring it was secure. The supposed hacker-proof setup he swore by? Yeah, sure, Jake. It’s so secure that one guy got my number and name, and another managed to take control of my laptop like it was child’s play.
• I should quit. Any sane person would. But there’s a part of me, the part that craves something more, that keeps telling me this risk is exactly what will make my book sell. If there was no danger, would it be as exciting? Would it grip people the way I want it to? And, deep down, I know I’ve crossed a line already. There’s no turning back.
• It’s too late to back out now. I’ve already messaged them, engaged with them, opened the door to this world. If I refuse to meet them, it changes nothing. They already have everything they need on me. My name, my number, my address no doubt. They could find me whether I show up or not.
• I’ve set this plan in motion, and now I’m stuck on this path. I’m meeting three people today. Three. What are the chances that they’re all morally gray, just rough-around-the-edges guys with questionable ethics? Not likely. No, I have a sinking feeling that at least one of them is going to be twisted, out to hurt me. Maybe more than one.
• I know I’m walking into a trap. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to stop, to turn around and forget this whole insane idea. But it’s too late for second thoughts now. My phone pings, and I glance down at the screen. There it is—a location.
• The place is secluded, barren of anything or anyone. I stare at the map, my heart pounding in my chest. I’ll have to take a taxi part of the way, but after that, I’ll have to walk. Alone.
• I open the app, book a taxi, and stare at the message again. Am I really doing this? I glance at the clock. It’s 5:15 a.m., and here I am getting ready to head to some isolated spot, with nothing but my gut telling me to run and common sense long gone. The guy who wants to meet me has picked a location that’s basically the middle of nowhere—no buildings, no roads, no signs of life.
• I shove my phone into my bag, quickly get dressed, and step out into the early morning air. The coolness hits me, a small reminder that I still have a choice. But I don’t stop. I walk toward the waiting taxi and climb in, giving the driver the address.
• He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but he says nothing as we drive. The further we go, the more desolate it becomes. Soon, the paved roads disappear, and the taxi bumps along a gravel path, no houses, no lights—just the dim glow of the rising sun barely breaking through the horizon.
• When we finally stop, it’s at a rusted iron gate. The driver glances back at me, concern etched across his face. “Miss, are you sure you want to do this?” He gestures to the empty expanse ahead, where shadows still cling to the earth, long and deep. No street lights, no signs of civilization. Just… nothing.
• I swallow the lump in my throat, force a smile, and whisper, “Yeah, I’m good.” I push the door open and step out, the cold air biting at my skin. The driver watches me as I approach the gate. I climb over it, feeling his eyes on me, widening with disbelief.
• As I land on the other side, I hear the soft hum of the taxi driving away, the engine fading into the distance until it’s just me. Alone.
• I take a deep breath and start walking forward, the weight of silence pressing down on me. This is it—no turning back now.
• I step forward into the darkness more, my boots crunching softly on the uneven ground. The light from the rising sun is weak, barely cutting through the misty morning air, leaving everything shadowed and unclear. My eyes strain to make out anything—any shape, any sign of life—but there’s nothing. Just an oppressive, eerie silence.
• The wind bites at my skin, and my heart pounds in my chest as I move forward, the weight of every step heavy in the stillness. A few moments pass, and then—there. A sound. The faint shuffle of feet.
• I freeze, my pulse spiking. I turn my head, squinting into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the source, but there’s no one. Nothing.
• I take a breath and keep walking, the adrenaline pushing me forward. My muscles are tense, my senses hyper-aware, but I still can’t see anything. The sound grows louder, closer. And then, from somewhere behind me, a voice cuts through the air.
• “Foolish move, kitten.”
• I spin around, my body acting on pure instinct, and swing hard. My fist connects with something solid—a face. There’s a low grunt of surprise, and then I see him. He’s standing in front of me now, tall and broad, his features half-hidden in the dim light. He’s smirking down at me, one hand brushing the side of his jaw where I punched him.
• “Good swing,” he says, amusement lacing his voice, his dark eyes glinting with something more. “But how’s that supposed to save you from what I’ve got?”
• Before I can react, I feel it—a cold, hard pressure against my stomach. My breath hitches as something drags slowly up my body, grazing over my ribs, up toward my chest. A gun. My heart slams against my ribcage, the icy metal trailing a path that makes my skin prickle.
• I freeze, my mind racing as I realize how deep I am in this. His gaze bores into mine, his smirk widening as he presses the gun further into me, its weight terrifyingly familiar now.
• “Do you really think,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, “that I’m foolish enough to tell you my secrets?”
• His words send a shiver down my spine, and my body goes rigid as the barrel of the gun glides higher, under my chin, pushing my head back. My pulse thunders in my ears as he leans in closer, the heat of his breath brushing against my skin, his presence overwhelming.
• The cold steel of the gun presses harder against the underside of my chin, forcing my head to tilt back until I’m staring up at him, my throat exposed, vulnerable. His lips curl into a cruel smile, and his voice drops into a growl.
• “Is this worth losing your life for?”
• The intensity of the moment crashes down on me, fear clashing with something else—something darker, more twisted that I can’t deny. I stare up at him, my breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts. My skin burns where the gun presses into me, my body trembling.
• I should be terrified. I should be begging for my life, but instead, I feel the tension snap inside me.
• A quiet whimper escapes my lips, and before I can think, I press closer to the gun. I lean into it, the cold barrel digging into my skin as I breathe out the words.
• “Do it.” My voice is barely a whisper, my heart hammering in my chest. “Kill me.”
• For a brief moment, there’s silence. The smirk on his face fades, his eyes narrowing as he watches me. The gun stays pressed firmly under my chin, his grip unyielding.
• And then, his smile returns—darker, more dangerous than before. Oh fuck, this is it. This is where I die, right? My mind spirals, but I force myself to push back the fear, to keep it hidden from him. I can’t let him see the terror that’s building inside me. Not now. Not when he’s so close.
• “Very foolish,” he murmurs, circling me slowly, dragging the gun across my body as he walks around me like a predator stalking its prey. “Do you have a death wish? Was your goal to die, is that why you did all this?”
• I grunt as the gun jabs into my spine, the force of it pushing me forward slightly.
• “Death comes eventually to all of us,” I manage, my voice sounding far steadier than I feel. “If this has made my time come quicker, so be it.” My breath comes out heavy, shaky.