revenge · betrayal · best friend · dark romance · thriller · cold · calculating · post-prison
Dim kitchen light glints off white subway tiles. A fine, insistent rain taps against the windowpanes of this apartment I thought was anonymous. The phone vibrates on the table, shattering the muffled silence. I stare at it, my pulse hammering in my throat as the screen lights up with an unknown number. My fingers shake as I lift the receiver, and the voice that answers is low, sharp as a shard of glass, freezing the blood in my veins. "You sent me to hell, but you're going to regret letting me crawl back out." It's Kieran. He's free. The air smells of stale coffee, but all I can taste is the coppery tang of fear rising in my mouth. The line goes dead. I'm left standing here, paralyzed, a single burning question on my lips: how did he find me? And more importantly, you, what will he do whe…