Chapter 2 A Dead End

• Imogen stood by the door, her hand holding the handle tightly. The early morning air was cold, but it wasn’t the chill that made her freeze. It was him.
• Hanson!
• Her frown deepened, disgust flashing in her eyes. "Stay away, Hanson," she said, her voice sharp. "I don’t want you in my house."
• Hanson didn’t move. His posture was relaxed, hands shoved into the pockets of his worn coat, but there was something unreadable in his gaze.
• “I’m here now.” His voice was quiet, almost coaxing. “You should be happy to see me.”
• Imogen’s heart pounded. She looked past him into the dark street. It was empty, but she still felt uneasy. The world was quiet, stuck between night and dawn.
• “How did you get out?” The tremor in her voice betrayed her unease. “Why did you come here?” she asked with a tinge of guilt.
• She had heard about his arrest. She had cut ties with him and never expected to see him again. She thought he was gone for good.
• Hanson took a step forward, but Imogen didn’t back down.
• “Don’t act surprised,” he said.
• “Why did you fight with Don Lloyd’s men?” she asked, blocking his entrance. “I gave you a chance to make something of yourself, and you threw it away. Now you’re drowning in debt.”
• Imogen’s stomach tightened. She had introduced him to Don Lloyd—a man she thought would help him. But it had been a mistake. A big one. “You can't drag me into this,” she said strongly.
• Hanson sighed, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I thought they were honest businessmen,” he said, shaking his head. “Don Lloyd knew they were crooks from the start.”
• Imogen’s patience snapped. “And you didn’t?” Her voice was sharp, slicing through the quiet.
• “You’re a fool, Hanson! One of Don’s men is fighting for his life because of you. Do you know what that means? Don Lloyd has put a price on your head.” She laughed, but there was no fun in it. “Prison was the only thing keeping you safe.”
• She turned to go inside, slamming the door in his face. But before she could, his hand shot out, grapping her wrist.
• Her pulse spiked.
• “Listen to me,” Hanson said, his voice low and urgent. “Don Lloyd set me up. That’s what he does. He’s a liar. He—”
• He stopped. Imogen has known Don Lloyd for too long, and should know what a dishonest businessman he was. It definitely wasn’t his place to tell her about him. If she had known this much, why then did she go ahead to introduce him, knowing how grim his situation already was?
• Imogen ripped her hand away, glaring at him. “You can’t run from this.” Her voice was ice. “You owe him, and I won’t ruin my standing with Don Lloyd because of you.”
• Hanson’s jaw tightened. His woman had chosen his enemy over him. “I just need time—”
• “You have nothing.” She cut him off, stepping closer. “Quit pretending to be some untouchable billionaire. You’re broke, Hanson. Broke.”
• “If Don Lloyd had given me time, none of this would have happened,” Hanson said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You can call me broke, but I have plans. I was going to pay back every bit.”
• Imogen watched him quietly as he ran a hand through his hair, looking more annoyed by the second. “I just got out after three days, Imogen. You’re the only one I can turn to.”
• “Not my problem,” she said, her voice cold. She was done with him. He had to fix his own mess.
• Hanson inhaled sharply, forcing control over the desperation clawing at him. She had made her choice, but he still needs her by his side, especially now. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear—”
• “Make it up to yourself.” Her tone was final, a death knell. “And stay away from me, you pathetic lowlife.”
• Hanson flinched, but he didn’t move. He just stared at her, like he was trying to find a crack in her resolve.
• Imogen exhaled, her anger fading into exhaustion. She was so tired—tired of his empty vows, tired of being the one he ran to when things went wrong. She blamed herself for ever believing him.
• “I write off the debt owed me. Just go.”
• She stepped inside, and then paused.
• For a moment, she almost felt sorry him. Almost.
• Without turning around, she spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Get far away from here, Hanson. Don Lloyd shows no mercy.”
• Her conscience was clear. Hanson had been a good man once, and if he could get far away, he might have the chance to fix things.
• Haven decided their fate, she let go of the door handle, and the door clicked shut between them.
• Outside, John waited by the car, leaning against the side as Hanson approached. He had seen the way Hanson stormed out of the apartment building, and knew something was wrong.
• “Young master,” John said reluctantly, fearing the worst. “Miss Imogen, she refused?”
• Hanson let out a slow breath, slipping on his sunglasses like they could hide his pain. “She’s done with me.”
• John crossed his arms. “I kinda feel it will get to this.” He said, his eyes searching the dark street. “By morning, Don Lloyd’s men will know you’re out. They’ll come after you.”
• Hanson’s grip tightened around the car door. He didn’t want to return behind those prison walls. Even though he had gotten away easily this time, it might not happen again unless he involved his grandfather, old master Rudland.
• “Then we leave, John. Take me somewhere far away.” His voice was controlled, but there was an edge to it. “No one can know where I am. Not even my grandfather. We’ll keep the fake name until this is over."
• John nodded briskly, pulling open the back door. “Old Master Rudland must never find out.”
• Hanson slid inside without another word.
• John started the engine. The tires crunched against the gravel as they drove away into the night.