Chapter 8 – Forbidden Truce
1899 Words
JEREMIAH WAS already inside the warehouse when Lily came.
He leaned against a concrete pillar, arms crossed, a shadow in the dim light. His jacket hung open, and revealed the black shirt beneath that was torn at the shoulder. A sliver of bruised skin peeked through, darkened from last night’s fight. He looked rougher today. More dangerous. Less controlled.
His eyes lifted when he heard the door close behind her.
“You follow instructions terribly,” he said. His tone stayed flat, but there was a flicker of something else in his face. Something he didn’t bother hiding.
Lily paused several feet away from him. “You told Ronan you needed to talk to me,” she answered. “So talk.”
Jeremiah exhaled slowly, like he regretted asking for this conversation. His fingers flexed once before he pushed off the pillar and took a step toward her. The room suddenly felt smaller.
“You shouldn’t be around me,” he said.
Lily blinked. “I’m already here.”
“And you shouldn’t be,” Jeremiah replied, voice lower now. “Last night proved it.”
She took a breath. “I handled myself.”
“No,” he said. “I did. And that’s the problem.”
The distance between them was closing without either of them fully choosing it. Lily’s heart thudded hard, louder than the faint hum of the heaters in the corner of the room.
“What exactly are you saying?” she asked.
Jeremiah stopped only an arm’s reach from her. He looked down, breathing tight, like he was holding something back.
“You being near me is becoming a risk I can’t predict,” he said quietly. “When those men dragged you across the yard last night… something in me snapped. I don’t lose control. Not like that. Not even with Ronan. But you—”
His voice cut off. His jaw tensed.
Lily swallowed. “What did you do?”
His eyes stayed locked on hers. “I almost went too far with one of them. I was one second away from killing him in a way that would have haunted you if you saw it.”
“I’ve seen worse,” she shot back.
“Not from me,” Jeremiah said. “That’s the point.”
Silence pressed between them, thick and electric. The snow kept falling outside, softening the world while the space between them sharpened with heat.
Lily lifted her chin. “So your solution is to avoid me.”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Because if I don’t, I’m going to cross lines that I’ve held for years.”
Her breath caught. “What lines?”
Jeremiah took another step toward her. She didn’t move back. She never did. He looked down at her mouth for a brief, treacherous second before he forced his gaze back up.
“Lines I can’t explain to Ronan,” he said. “Lines that involve you standing too close right now.”
She hadn’t realized her hands were shaking until she curled them into fists. “You’re trying to scare me off.”
Jeremiah gave a humorless sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “If that worked, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”
His hand brushed her forearm. Barely. Just a graze. But it sent heat spiraling up her arm. Lily stilled, breath trapped in her chest. Jeremiah noticed, because he froze too.
“That,” he murmured. “That’s the kind of reaction that’s going to get us both in trouble.”
Lily wasn’t sure who moved first. Maybe she leaned in. Maybe he did. But suddenly his fingers wrapped lightly around her wrist, the touch firm but not restrictive, warm despite the cold air. Her pulse beat against his thumb.
Jeremiah’s voice dropped. “I’m warning you.”
“Then say it clearly,” she whispered. “Say whatever you’ve been holding back.”
He stared at her like she had cornered him for the first time.
“Last night,” he said, “when I caught you before you hit the ground, I didn’t just react to protect you. I reacted because I wanted you close. Even with blood everywhere. Even with the compound burning. I had no business wanting that. But I did.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
His other hand lifted. Slowly. Almost cautiously. He stopped before touching her cheek, fingers hovering a breath away. She felt the heat radiating from him.
“You’re trouble,” he said. “And I keep getting pulled into it.”
Lily swallowed hard. “I didn’t ask you to want me.”
“I know.” His voice thickened. “That’s what makes it worse.”
His fingers finally touched her. Just the side of her jaw. Soft. Careful. Her skin tingled, betraying her. She should have stepped back. She didn’t.
“You didn’t see yourself,” he continued, thumb brushing lightly along her neck. “You were shaking, but you were still trying to fight. You could barely breathe, but you didn’t beg. I’ve seen killers break faster. You don’t even realize when you’re inches from dying.”
“I realize it,” she whispered. “I just don’t freeze.”
Jeremiah’s gaze darkened in a way that made her pulse hammer. “That’s the thing,” he said quietly. “I think you’d freeze for me.”
Her breath hitched.
His thumb grazed her collarbone. Slow. Deliberate. Her body arched a fraction before she could stop it.
“See?” he murmured. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Lily forced herself to speak through the heat building under her skin. “So what do you want, Jeremiah? For me to stay across the compound? Never look at you? Pretend there’s nothing between us?”
His jaw worked. “There shouldn’t be anything.”
“But there is.”
That broke something in his restraint. His hand slid around the back of her neck, fingers curling into her hair, not pulling, just holding her there. Her breath stuttered.
“Lily,” he said, voice rough, “if I ever cross that line, there’s no going back. You get that, right?”
She lifted her face toward him. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be,” he replied.
The words were soft, but the meaning wasn’t. Yet he didn’t push her away. His thumb swept along her throat again, slower this time, a small circle that made her knees weaken.
“You think Ronan’s the dangerous one,” Jeremiah murmured. “You think the men out there are the threat. But they’re predictable. I know exactly what they’ll do. I don’t know what I’ll do when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
“Like you’re waiting for me to snap.”
Her lips parted, but Jeremiah beat her to it—he leaned in, breath brushing her mouth but not touching it, the proximity enough to make her tremble.
“Don’t tempt me,” he warned. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Feels like you’re trying to protect yourself,” she whispered.
His breath caught. The room pulsed with heat.
He pulled back half an inch. Just enough to keep them from crossing the line they were dancing on. Then, slowly, his hand fell away from her neck. She felt the loss instantly.
Lily’s voice was softer when she spoke again. “Why are you so sure being near me is dangerous?”
Jeremiah stepped back, only slightly. “Because someone out there wants you scared. Wants Ronan unstable. Wants me distracted. And it’s working.”
“You think it’s Robert,” she said. “Don’t you?”
Jeremiah’s expression shifted. Not denial. Not confirmation. Something in between.
“I think too many things line up,” he answered. “And I think Ronan’s version of the story is missing pieces. Pieces that matter.”
Lily’s chest tightened. “Ronan said Robert’s capable of horrible things.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Ronan sees Robert the way a kid sees a monster under the bed. Maybe something’s there, maybe it’s not. But Ronan believes it. That’s what matters to him.”
“And what do you believe?” Lily asked.
Jeremiah looked at her for a long time before answering.
“I believe the attack wasn’t random,” he said. “And I believe you’re caught in the middle because someone’s trying to send a message.”
Her pulse raced. “Then why not keep me close instead of pushing me away?”
His answer was immediate. “Because if the message is for Ronan, you’re safer with him. If the message is for me… you’re safest far from me.”
He didn’t say the rest. But Lily felt it.
If the message is for you, then I’m the reason.
She stepped forward again, closing the small gap he created. “You don’t get to decide what makes me safe.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jeremiah said. “Because if something happens to you again, I won’t hold back next time. And if I don’t… Ronan’s whole world will burn. Including you.”
Her breath trembled at the intensity in his eyes. He meant every word.
Instead of retreating, she reached for his hand.
Jeremiah went completely still when her fingers slid against his. His breath faltered the moment she laced their hands together. The heat was immediate. Dangerous. Wrong.
“Then trust me,” she said quietly. “If you’re losing control, I’ll stop you.”
His eyes lowered to their joined hands. He lifted them slowly, staring at the point where her skin touched his. When he looked back up, something unguarded flashed across his face.
“You’re playing with fire,” he whispered.
“Maybe,” she said. “But so are you.”
They stood there, breath mingling, the world outside muffled by snow and half-lit holiday lights. Slowly, painfully, Jeremiah pulled his hand away. Not because he wanted to. Because he forced himself to.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he said. “Not with everything happening.”
Lily crossed her arms, trying to keep her voice even. “Then tell me it’s only danger. Tell me there’s nothing else here.”
Jeremiah hesitated. That was her answer.
He stepped away. “I need space to think. Figure out what the hell is going on. And I can’t think when you’re this close.”
“So this is your truce?” she asked quietly. “You stay away from me. I stay away from you.”
He nodded once. “For both of us.”
But his eyes said something different. Something that contradicted every word.
Something that promised this wasn’t ending. Only simmering.
Lily watched him move toward the door. “Jeremiah.”
He stopped.
Her voice softened. “I’m not your enemy.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s what scares me.”
Then he walked out, leaving the air around her warm from his touch, and her stomach twisting with fear, desire, and questions that refused to stay buried.
The Christmas lights outside flickered weakly again.
A reminder that even in quiet snowfall, shadows still moved.
And some shadows carried his name.
- Writer
