The car tore through the empty streets like a bullet. The city was waking up, but for Ava and Marcus, time was running out.
Three hours.
Nathan's face—haunted, fragile—was burned behind Ava's eyes. The carved threat in his skin echoed louder than Damien's voice ever could.
She's next.
Marcus hadn't let go of her hand since they left the warehouse. His grip was tight—not controlling, but grounding. Ava wasn't sure if she was holding him, or if he was holding her.
Maybe both.
The GPS tracked the coordinates Damien had sent. An industrial area on the edge of town—one Ava had once investigated years ago. The place had been condemned after a fire. She hadn't thought about it since.
Of course Damien would choose it.
"Ava," Marcus said, eyes on the road. "When we get there, you follow my lead."
"No," she shot back. "We go in together. Like always."
His jaw tensed. "This isn't just another bust. It's you he wants. And if he has to use Nathan to get you, he will."
Ava's heart twisted. "Then we don't give him the chance."
Silence fell again, heavy with the unspoken. Their earlier kiss hovered in the space between them, fragile and unfinished.
She broke the quiet first. "What you said back there… did you mean it?"
Marcus didn't look away from the road. But his voice was low, certain.
"Every word."
Ava swallowed. "Me too."
That was all they needed. No grand declarations. Not yet. Not with time slipping like sand.
They arrived at the location with forty-two minutes left on the clock.
Ava stepped out, air sharp in her lungs. The structure before them was skeletal—twisted steel, scorched walls, shadows crawling in every corner. Nature had started reclaiming it, weeds breaking through the concrete, vines slinking along rusted railings.
Marcus checked his gun. Ava did the same.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded.
They slipped inside.
The interior smelled of mold and ash. Graffiti danced along the walls. Old fire damage blackened the ceiling. But deeper inside—beneath the decay—there was something else.
A humming. Faint. Mechanical.
Ava signaled for silence.
They moved room by room, checking every corner. Then they found it.
A steel door. New. Out of place.
Marcus tested the knob—locked. He stepped back, kicked it open with practiced force.
Inside—was a room.
Brightly lit. Stark white walls. Cameras. A chair in the center.
And Nathan.
Tied, gagged, bloody.
But alive.
Ava rushed forward. "Nathan!"
He lifted his head weakly. Tears streamed down his face as she untied him. "I thought—I didn't think you'd come—"
"I told you," she whispered. "I don't stop."
But then—
The monitors flickered.
Damien's face appeared on the largest screen. Calm. Amused.
"Congratulations, Detective. You're right on time."
Marcus raised his gun and aimed at the screen. "Show yourself."
"Oh, I'm close," Damien replied. "Close enough to finish this."
Ava pulled Nathan behind her. "Why him? Why now?"
"Because Nathan saw something he wasn't supposed to," Damien said, voice smooth. "And you… you've always been the endgame."
Ava's pulse thundered. "You carved a threat into him."
Damien smiled. "A reminder. You're not invincible, Ava. Not even with Marcus."
Marcus stepped forward. "If you touch her—"
"If?" Damien laughed. "She's already touched. All of you are. This story doesn't end with a hero saving the day. It ends with you making a choice."
The screen went black.
And then a timer appeared.
00:17:00
Ava stared at it. "What the hell is this?"
Nathan coughed. "He said if I was found… something else would happen. A second trap."
Marcus spun around. "We have to get out. Now."
They moved fast. Marcus led, Ava helped Nathan stay upright. Every creak of the building made her flinch.
They were halfway down the hallway when a sound echoed behind them.
Click.
A door slammed shut.
And then—
BOOM.
An explosion rocked the floor beneath them. The blast threw Ava forward. Pain shot through her shoulder as she hit the wall.
"Ava!" Marcus shouted, pulling her up.
Smoke poured through the corridor. Fire flared from the direction of the room they'd just left.
Nathan was coughing hard. "He rigged it… He rigged the whole place…"
They stumbled out into the open air, gasping, smoke clinging to their clothes. Sirens wailed in the distance—Marcus must've called it in.
Ava dropped to her knees beside Nathan. "You're okay. You're safe."
He grabbed her arm. "He's not done. He said this was just the beginning. That he wanted you to find me."
Ava met Marcus's eyes.
This wasn't a rescue.
It was bait.
---
They brought Nathan to the hospital under protection. Ava sat by his side until the nurses took over. Then she stepped into the hallway, shoulders tense.
Marcus was there. Leaning against the wall. Waiting.
"He planned it all," Ava said quietly. "Even the fire. The explosion. He wanted us to get out."
Marcus nodded. "He wants to keep you off balance. Make you question every win."
She looked down. "And it's working."
"No." Marcus stepped closer. "You're still standing. That's what he hates."
Ava looked up. There was something in Marcus's eyes. Not just anger. Something deeper. Like he wanted to hold her and never let go.
So she let him.
He pulled her in, arms around her tightly. Her face pressed into his chest, and for a moment, she let herself breathe.
"I hate this," she whispered. "Feeling like a pawn."
"You're not," Marcus said. "You're the queen. That's why he's obsessed."
She pulled back just enough to see his face. "What if this never ends?"
"Then we end it," he said. "Together."
A soft knock on the wall made them turn.
It was a nurse, pale. "Detective Sinclair? There's something you need to see. It was left at the front desk… for you."
Ava followed her to the front.
A small box sat on the counter.
She opened it.
Inside—was a chess piece.
The Queen.
Blood-smeared.
And beneath it, a note.
"Your move."
Ava's fingers tightened around the piece. "He's watching."
Marcus stepped beside her, reading the note. "Then it's time we start watching back."
---