—Nolan's POV—
The first thing I did when I got home was change the lock code.
I didn't think. My fingers moved on their own — new numbers, double-check, again. I shut the door, turned the deadbolt, checked it twice. Then I did it all over again for the windows.
Every creak in the walls made me jump.
Every shift in the shadows felt like him.
I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or ask him why?
But there was no one here.
Except… what if there was?
I tore through my apartment like a madman, flipping lights, checking closets, behind curtains, under the bed. I opened drawers I didn't even use. Just to be sure.
Nothing. Just me. My breath. My heartbeat.
Both too loud.
My phone was ringing.
Zade.
I couldn't pick up. I couldn't even pretend I was okay.
I dropped him a quick message — "I'm home. Need rest. Don't worry." Then I switched off my phone and threw it across the bed.
But I didn't sleep. Of course I didn't.
I just sat there in the dark, wrapped in a blanket like that would protect me. Like cotton would stop him if he decided to walk through the wall.
My mind wouldn't stop spinning.
The way he whispered in my ear — "Did you like the flower?"
The way he smirked when he said, "You never obey me."
That look in his eyes. Cold. Familiar. Possessive.
Like he owned me.
Why is he doing this to me?
Who is he, really?
And why… why does some part of me not want to run?
---
The next morning
I didn't sleep. I didn't eat.
But I still went to the hospital.
I had to.
I couldn't keep avoiding him. This wasn't just a case anymore. This was a confrontation.
The walk down the hallway to Room 13 felt like a funeral procession. My footsteps echoed louder than they should have.
I opened the door slowly.
There he was. Lying on the bed.
Eyes closed.
Pretending.
"...I know you're not sleeping," I said.
He opened his eyes — like he'd been waiting for those exact words.
A slow smirk crept across his face.
Then he sat up.
"Morning, doctor," he murmured. "Did you miss me?"
His voice sent a chill through my entire body.
But I didn't flinch. Not this time.
I stepped further in.
"We need to talk."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking over my face like he was memorizing something precious.
"Oh? Finally ready to ask what you should've asked years ago?"
My breath caught. "Who are you?"
That smile turned dangerous.
"You used to know."
Those four words crawled under my skin.
I forced myself to stay still, to keep my voice even. "Stop talking in riddles. If you want help, then tell me the truth."
Varek leaned forward slowly, elbows on his knees. "Truth? You think you can handle it, doctor?"
"I'm your psychiatrist. You're here for treatment."
He chuckled. Low. Cold. "Is that what you think this is?"
My heart skipped.
He stood up.
Too close.
I didn't move.
"You looked so scared last night," he whispered, "all alone in that crowd… shaking like a leaf. I was watching."
I stepped back.
"From the hospital?" I asked quietly.
Varek's smile widened. "Do you really believe they can keep me here?"
He circled me like a predator. "I thought the note would be enough? But you still let him touch you. Still smiled at him."
I flinched. "Don't bring him into this."
"I didn't."
He stopped behind me.
"But I could."
I turned around to face him. "This is sick. You need—"
"I need you, Nolan."
His voice dropped — not loud, but heavy.
"You keep acting like you don't remember. But your body does. The way you freeze. The way your eyes beg me to stay. You knew me long before all this."
My throat dried. "You're delusional."
"Maybe," he whispered, "but you're mine."
Silence.
Only the sound of my own breathing.
"Who are you?"
He leaned in again, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.
"I'm the one you promised to save."
Then he stepped back — calm, collected, like he hadn't just shattered something inside me.
"I'll be waiting," he said, settling back onto the bed.
I stumbled out of the room before I could fall apart.