Chapter 10 — Collision of Shadows
1857 Words
JEREMIAH STEPPED into the garage, shutting the heavy metal door behind him. The place still smelled faintly of smoke from the attack—burned rubber, scorched oil, and the metallic tang of blood that hadn’t fully faded yet. Snow collected in thin streaks along the concrete, blown in from the cracks where the wind reached through. Christmas lights flickered weakly from the small window above the workbench, the only sign the holidays were near.
He scanned the shadows automatically, muscles tense, hand drifting toward the knife holstered under his jacket. The attack had left the compound on edge, and he wasn’t letting anything slip past him again.
He froze when he saw her.
Lily stood near the far corner of the garage, arms wrapped around herself, staring at a burnt-out motorcycle frame like it held secrets only she could see. Her hair brushed her shoulders, catching the low light, and even from across the room, he could see the slight tremble in her hands.
He didn’t expect her to be here.
And he definitely didn’t expect the way his stomach tightened at the sight.
Jeremiah cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t be alone here.”
Lily jerked slightly, turning toward him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.” She forced a breath out, shrugging. “Just… thinking.”
He walked closer, slow, controlled. “Thinking in the middle of a half-burnt garage?”
“It’s quiet,” she said.
“Too quiet,” he muttered.
She looked away, eyes darkening. “You think someone’s coming back.”
“I think someone’s already watching,” he said. “Big difference.”
Lily hesitated. “Ronan thinks it was Robert—”
Jeremiah cut her off with a look. “Robert’s always a possibility. Not the only one.”
She studied him for a long second. “Then why are you here alone?”
He stopped a few steps away from her. “Because I’d notice if someone followed me.”
“And me?” she asked softly. “Would you notice if someone followed me?”
His jaw clenched. “I’d notice before they got close.”
Silence settled between them, warm and heavy. Lily’s gaze traced the bruises on his jaw, the cut near his brow, the smear of dried blood he hadn’t bothered to clean from his knuckles. Her brows pulled together.
“You’re hurt,” she said.
“It’s nothing.”
“You always say that.”
“And it’s always true.”
Her eyes flicked to his hands. “Jeremiah… that night… you were different.”
He stiffened. “Which part?”
She swallowed. “All of it.”
He looked away, running his thumb along the back of his other hand, a restless habit he thought he’d shaken. “You were too close,” he said. “Too close, and I was running on instinct.”
“I wasn’t scared,” she said quietly.
“You should’ve been.”
Lily stepped toward him. “I’m not scared of you.”
Jeremiah’s chest rose sharply—once, then again. “Then you don’t understand what you’re standing in front of.”
“I understand you saved me.” Her voice softened. “Twice.”
He shook his head slowly. “That’s not the same thing.”
Lily moved closer, two steps this time. Close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off her skin, close enough that if he reached out, his fingers would graze her waist.
He didn’t move.
“Jeremiah,” she said softly, “tell me what’s going on with you.”
He let out a slow, rough breath. “You want honesty?”
She nodded.
He lifted his eyes to hers. “I almost lost control when you screamed.”
Lily froze.
Jeremiah continued, voice low, restrained. “I heard you. I smelled the blood. Something in me snapped. Not anger. Not fear. Something else. Something I didn’t trust myself with.”
Her heartbeat quickened; he could see it in the way her breath stuttered.
“Is that why you won’t look at me?” she whispered.
Jeremiah’s eyes flicked to hers—hot, sharp, tortured. “I’m looking now.”
She didn’t move. Neither did he.
But the air between them changed.
Jeremiah took one step toward her. Then another. Until her back gently touched the workbench behind her and he stood close enough that the heat of her chest brushed his when she inhaled.
Her voice came out thin. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he said. “I’m mad at myself.”
“For what?”
“For wanting you close when you’re supposed to stay far away.”
Her lips parted.
He lifted a hand but stopped inches from her cheek, fingers shaking from effort. “If I touch you,” he murmured, “I’m not sure I’ll stop.”
Lily didn’t move away.
She lifted her own hand slowly, hesitating only a second before her fingertips brushed his wrist. The light contact hit him like fire.
“Then don’t stop,” she whispered.
Jeremiah inhaled sharply, head dropping as if someone punched the air from his lungs. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” she whispered. “I mean it.”
“You don’t understand the weight of what you’re asking.”
“I think I do.”
He shook his head. “You really don’t.”
Lily’s fingers traveled slightly up his arm, grazing skin exposed by his rolled-up sleeve. He swallowed hard, muscles straining under her touch.
“Tell me to stop,” she said softly.
Jeremiah’s voice was hoarse. “I can’t.”
Her other hand lifted, brushing near his chest, but she didn’t touch him. She waited.
Jeremiah didn’t step back.
Slowly, he placed his hand against the wall beside her head, caging her in—not touching her, but close enough she could feel the heat radiating from him.
His breath brushed her cheek. “Lily…you need to walk away.”
“Do you want me to?”
He didn’t answer.
Because the truth sat right in front of him—warm, trembling, wanting.
Lily’s voice lowered. “Jeremiah… look at me.”
He finally did.
And the moment their eyes met, the air shifted again—tighter, hotter, dangerous.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Lily’s breath hitched.
Jeremiah leaned in slowly, so slowly it made his chest ache. His forehead nearly touched hers.
“Since that night,” he continued softly, “I can’t get you out of my head.”
Her whisper barely formed. “Jeremiah…”
He didn’t kiss her.
But God, he wanted to.
He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed the line of her jaw, then lingered on her neck, just below her pulse. The warmth of her skin under his touch sent a shiver down his spine.
Lily’s eyes fluttered shut for a second. “That feels…”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he whispered roughly.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what I’ll do if you do.”
She opened her eyes, gaze locking with his again. “Tell me.”
He stared at her mouth—soft, parted, waiting.
“I’d cross a line,” he admitted.
“Then cross it.”
His breath shook. “Lily…”
She leaned in the slightest bit—a movement so small it could’ve been imagined. But he felt it. Felt her draw toward him like gravity had found a new center.
He lowered his forehead to hers, eyes shutting tight. His voice came out a near whisper. “You don’t know what you’re inviting.”
She whispered back, “You do.”
His hand slid from her neck to her shoulder, thumb brushing the bare skin exposed by her loose shirt. The faintest graze of his fingers made her gasp softly.
Jeremiah’s eyes snapped open at the sound.
He stared at her, breathing hard.
She stared back, chest rising and falling quickly.
He leaned in—closer, closer—until their lips hovered a hair’s breadth apart.
One more breath, and they’d be kissing.
One more second, and he’d give in.
But—
The garage door slammed open.
Both jerked in place.
Ronan stormed inside. “Lily—”
His voice cut off the second he took in the scene.
Jeremiah stepped back fast, jaw tightening, eyes turning cold in an instant. Lily exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest as Ronan stopped three feet away, his expression shifting from confusion to fury in seconds.
“What the hell is going on?” Ronan demanded.
Lily opened her mouth, but Jeremiah stepped forward first. “She just needed air.”
“In a locked garage?” Ronan snapped. “With you?”
Jeremiah didn’t answer.
Ronan’s eyes flicked between them, landing on Lily’s flushed cheeks, the closeness they were still recovering from, the tension thick enough to choke on.
His jaw clenched. “Jeremiah, I swear—”
Lily cut him off. “Stop. It wasn’t what you think.”
Ronan scoffed. “It looked exactly like what I think.”
Jeremiah held Ronan’s stare without backing down. “We were talking.”
“Right,” Ronan said, voice dripping with disbelief. “Talking.”
Lily stepped between them, but Ronan’s glare didn’t leave Jeremiah. “I told you to keep your distance.”
Jeremiah’s voice dropped into something low and dangerous. “And I told you distance won’t keep her alive.”
Ronan looked like he might hit him.
Jeremiah didn’t move.
Lily shoved Ronan’s arm lightly. “I can handle myself.”
“No,” Ronan growled. “You clearly can’t, Lily. Not with him.”
Jeremiah’s jaw flexed, and Lily could feel the tension rolling off him.
She stepped closer to Jeremiah despite Ronan’s glare.
The movement was small. But meaningful.
Jeremiah noticed.
Ronan definitely noticed.
He pointed at Jeremiah, voice tight. “Stay away from her.”
Jeremiah stared at him coldly. “You’re not in control of everything.”
“In this situation, I damn well am.”
“No,” Jeremiah said, voice low. “Not anymore.”
Ronan’s eyes flashed. “Jeremiah—”
“Enough,” Lily cut in. “Both of you.”
Neither looked away.
Lily let out a shaky breath, the heat from earlier still buzzing through her skin. “I’m leaving.”
She brushed past Ronan. Jeremiah watched her silently, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning with everything he refused to say.
And Lily felt it.
Felt the weight of his stare.
Felt the unfinished moment pulsing between them.
Ronan followed her out.
Jeremiah stayed behind.
He waited until the door shut before letting out a hard breath, pressing his hands against the workbench, and bowing his head.
He’d come so close.
Too close.
And he didn’t know if stopping had saved them…
Or ruined everything.
- Writer
