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We rush out of the cabin, each of our movements hurried and tense as we throw our bags into the back of the car. The silence between us is heavy, filled with the unspoken fears of what we're heading back to face.
It's only once we're in the car and pulling away from the cabin that I find the courage to ask the question that’s been clawing at my insides since Julian walked back into the bedroom with that grim expression. "Julian, what happened?"
The engine revs as the car accelerates, tearing down the road with alarming speed. "There was another break-in at the Langford," he starts, his voice low and controlled. "Except this time, it wasn’t just a break-in. Jack was there—he was attacked."
“Oh my God,” I croak, my hands flying to my mouth as my heart drops to the floor. “Is he okay?” The image of Jack, always so strong and protective, now vulnerable and hurt, is almost too much to bear.
Julian nods, trying to offer a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "He's in the hospital now. It's not serious, but he was knocked out. He doesn’t remember much about what happened."
The relief that Jack isn’t seriously hurt battles with a surge of panic. I fold my arms around my stomach as guilt digs deeper into my thoughts. Here I was, seeking a weekend of escape and peace, while my brother faced danger alone. The weight of the idea that my need for a break could have cost me so dearly, presses down on me.
"I should have been there," I whisper, more to myself than to Julian, my voice thick with shame. "I shouldn’t have left town."
Julian places a hand on my knee. "Natalie, you couldn’t have known this would happen. We both needed the time away—it’s not your fault."
The reassurance feels hollow. The timing, the decision to leave when we did, the desire for a respite from our burdens—it all seems so selfish now in the face of what has happened.
The drive back is tense, my voice silenced by fears. Julian makes a few calls on the way, trying to gather more information about Jack’s condition and the circumstances of the break-in. Each call seems to only deepen the lines of concern etched on his face.
As the scenery blurs past, my mind races with the implications of the break-in, the attack on Jack, and the ongoing threats that seem to be closing in around us. The peace of the weekend feels like a distant memory, replaced by the stark reality of our situation.
The guilt, the worry—it all melds into a tight knot of anxiety as we speed towards the hospital, towards answers, and towards whatever comes next.
CHAPTER 29
JULIAN
As we near the town limits, the tension between Natalie and me continues to rise. Her concern for Jack and the Langford is palpable, her body rigid with stress and worry. I can appreciate her need to act, to be involved, but my own instincts scream to protect her, to keep her away from any potential danger.
"I’m dropping you off at home," I state firmly, trying to keep my voice even, though inside, my emotions are anything but calm.
She turns to me, her eyes wide. “Why?”
“I don't want you getting involved in any of this,” I urge. “I want you to stay where I know you'll be safe.”
Natalie's response is immediate, her voice frantic. “Are you crazy? My brother was just attacked, Julian, I need to see him! And I need to see the building, too—I need to know what happened!”
Her voice rises with each word, the pitch echoing the panic and guilt I know she feels. But I can’t let her do this. The thought of her walking into possibly another dangerous situation makes my blood run cold.
"You’re not going to the Langford, Natalie. It’s not safe. I won't put you in harm's way," I reply, trying to keep the edge from my voice. "You can go to the hospital to see Jack if you insist, but you’re not going anywhere near the building until I know exactly what we’re dealing with."
"I can handle myself. I need to be involved. This affects me too!" Her response is fierce, her spirit as fiery as ever, but it’s that very bravery that terrifies me. The more she insists, the more my resolve hardens. One of us has to think things through.
"This isn’t about whether you can handle yourself, Natalie," I say, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. "This is about ensuring your safety. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you. Jack was attacked, for fuck’s sake. We don’t know what else this guy is capable of."
Natalie looks away, her jaw clenched, her hands balled into fists in her lap. "And what if I can’t forgive myself for sitting on the sidelines while my brother was in danger? What if I need to do this, Julian?"
Her voice breaks a little, and it twists something deep inside me. I want to reach out, to pull her into my arms and reassure her, but I know that would only placate her in the moment, not solve the underlying issue.
"We’re not on the sidelines. We're making sure we’re not making the situation worse. Let the police handle the investigation at the building. You can see Jack and make sure he’s okay. That’s where you can help, Natalie," I argue, hoping she sees the sense in it, even as I understand her frustration and need to do more.
“Gee, thanks for the permission,” Natalie mutters. I clench my jaw shut tight, emotions roiling within me.
Natalie remains silent for the rest of the drive, a silence that feels directed at me. When I pull up to her place, she unbuckles her seatbelt without a word, her movements stiff and mechanical.
Before she can get out of the car, I reach for her hand, needing to bridge the gap between us. "Natalie, please understand why I’m doing this. I care about you—more than I’ve ever cared about anyone, besides Aria. I need to know you’re safe."
She looks at me, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I think she might soften. But then she pulls her hand away, snatches her bag and slams the car door with a force that echoes down the quiet street, her angry steps resounding as she storms away from me toward her front door. Underneath her anger, I sense her fear and helplessness—emotions I know all too well, but it doesn't change my decision.
