Page 89 of Endo
The place where her and Cruz used to get away to.
Their place.
I can still see her face when she took off on Cruz’s bike—tight with fear, stubborn as hell. She rode like she was trying to outrun the weight of it all. Or maybe she thought if she held on to the bike, she could hold on to him, too. The thought twists in my gut.I get why she did it. She doesn’t want to lose the biggest piece of Cruz she has left.
And I don’t blame her.
The most important piece. Even I know that if she had of known the stakes, she never would’ve taken that race. She’d never have risked that goddamn bike.
When the hideaway comes into view, the sight of her bike parked off to the side makes my chest tighten. I knew she’d be here. It just makes sense—this place, the quiet, the ocean. It’s where she’d come to escape, to get her head straight. To feel closer to him just when she felt like she was about to lose the most important part of him that she has left. And in this moment, I’m glad she let me in that day, despite all the shit going on between us. She let me see that side of her, and opened up to me about her memories, and her grief, because if she hadn’t, I might not have found her.
I park next to her bike, cutting the engine, and swing my leg off. The sudden silence is heavy, broken only by the crash of waves in the distance. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting everything in a soft, silvery glow. Stars scatter like broken glass overhead, faint but constant.
The trail down to the shore is narrow, winding through dunes that rise and fall like sleeping giants. Sea oats and beach grass sway gently in the breeze, brushing against my jeans as I move. The air smells of salt, clean and sharp, mixed with the earthy scent of damp sand. Each step sinks into the soft ground, the grains shifting beneath my boots.
As I crest the final dune, the beach stretches out before me, wide and open, bathed in moonlight. The ocean is endless, dark and glittering, the waves rolling in a rhythm that feels almost alive. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. I get why they loved it here—it’s the kind of place that lets you breathe, even when it feels like the world is closing in around you.
And there she is.
Lena stands near the water, her arms wrapped around herself, looking out at the horizon. Her hair blows behind her, wild in the wind, catching the light like it’s made of gold. Her race suit is discarded on the sand beside her boots and helmet, and she’s standing there in just her bra and panties, vulnerable and untouchable all at once.
For a moment, I just watch her. The way the moonlight outlines her silhouette, the way the wind whips her hair around her face, the way her shoulders rise and fall with each breath she takes. She looks so small against the vastness of the ocean, but there’s something unshakable about her too.
I step forward, the sand crunching underfoot. She doesn’t turn, and I don’t call out to her. Not yet. The moment feels too fragile, like a single word could shatter it. I stop a few feet away, hesitating. She doesn’t know I’m here yet, and for a moment, I just stand there, letting the sound of the ocean fill the space between us. I don’t know if anything I say will be enough, but what I do know is that I can’t let her stay out here alone.
Not tonight.
Because no matter how much she wants to run and hide, I’ll always make it my mission to find her. The waves crash against the shore, loud and relentless, but all I can focus on is her.
Something inside me breaks.
She doesn’t look up, doesn’t acknowledge me, but I know she hears me. The tension in her shoulders says enough. I take a few steps closer, keeping a few feet between us, my eyes fixed on the horizon.
“You shouldn’t have ran,” I say, my voice low but steady.
She huffs out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I didn’t know I had to ask for permission.”
“Lena…” I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “I’m serious. You scared the shit out of me.”
“You found me, didn’t you?” she snaps, her blue eyes sharp and shimmering with unshed tears.
Her words hit harder than they should, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. The sound of the waves fills the silence, crashing in time with the pounding in my chest.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I finally say, my voice tight with frustration that’s been building for far too long. “Running every time shit gets too heavy. From everything you don’t want to face.”
Lena whirls around, her eyes blazing, her jaw tight. “And what about you, Reign? What are you doing? Pretending like you’ve got it all figured out? You’re just as lost as I am.”
I step closer, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. “Yeah, I’m lost, Lena. I’ve been lost since the day Cruz died. But at least I’m not running from it. You ran from me. From us. The second you started to feel something again, you bolted.”
Her expression falters for a moment, the anger flickering into something more vulnerable before she masks it again.
“You started to open up,” I press, my voice lowering but no less intense. “For the first time since losing Cruz, you let yourself feel something, and it scared the shit out of you, didn’t it? So you did what you always do—you ran.”
Her lips part, but no words come out. Instead, her gaze drops for a split second before she lifts her chin, the fire back in her eyes.
“And you think you’re any better?” she snaps, her voice cracking. “You act like you’ve got it all under control, but you’re still holding on to every damn thing that broke you. You think you’re high and mighty, but you’re not. Not really.”
Her words hit like a punch to the chest, but I don’t back down. “Maybe not, but at least I’m trying, Lena. At least I’m not running away from what could actually fucking save me.”
