Clara's heart pounded as the door slammed shut behind Damien. The echoes reverberated in the small cabin, but the storm in her chest was far louder. Lucas clung to her leg, his little fingers digging into her jeans.
"Mommy, who was that man?" Lucas's innocent voice shattered her thoughts.
She crouched down, placing her hands on his small shoulders. "No one you need to worry about, baby. He's gone now."
But her words felt hollow, even to her. Damien wasn't the kind of man who simply left. He wasn't the kind to forget.
Lucas tilted his head, his wide eyes curious. "He looked at me funny."
Clara swallowed hard, pushing back the panic rising in her throat. "It's okay," she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound calm. "Let's just focus on dinner, okay?"
Lucas nodded slowly, though the uncertainty lingered on his face. She ushered him back into the kitchen, her mind racing.
How had Damien found her? She'd taken every precaution, severing ties, changing her name, and moving to a town so remote it barely existed. Yet here he was, standing in her doorway, unraveling everything she'd worked so hard to protect.
And Lucas. God, Lucas. One look at him, and Damien had known.
The memory of Damien's face, the realization dawning in his dark eyes, sent a shiver down her spine. He wouldn't let this go.
As Lucas sat at the small wooden table, playing with his food more than eating it, Clara's mind spiraled through possibilities. Should she run again? Pack up their lives and disappear before Damien could come back?
But where would they go? And how far could she run before he caught up again?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp trill of her phone. She froze, staring at the device on the counter. Only one person had that number.
With trembling hands, she picked it up and answered. "Hello?"
"Clara." Damien's voice was low, but there was an edge to it that made her blood run cold.
"How did you get this number?" she demanded, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles ached.
"That doesn't matter," he said. "We need to talk. Properly this time."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I think there is." His tone softened slightly, but it didn't ease the tension in her chest. "He's my son, isn't he?"
Clara's breath caught. She opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come.
"Clara," Damien pressed, his voice dropping lower. "Don't lie to me."
Tears pricked her eyes as she struggled to find the strength to respond. "He's my son," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"And mine," Damien said, the certainty in his voice sending a wave of dread through her. "You should have told me."
"I couldn't," she snapped, her anger flaring despite her fear. "You wouldn't have understood. You would have taken him from me."
"I had a right to know."
Clara shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "You gave up that right when you walked away."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, she thought he might have hung up. But then his voice came back, quieter this time.
"I didn't walk away, Clara. You did."
Her grip on the phone faltered, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. "You don't understand," she whispered.
"Then make me understand," he said. "Meet me."
"No."
"Clara," Damien said, his voice firm but not unkind. "This isn't just about us anymore. It's about him."
Her gaze flicked to Lucas, who was humming softly to himself, oblivious to the storm raging around him.
"Tomorrow," Damien continued. "There's a diner on the edge of town. Meet me there at noon. If you don't, I'll come back to the cabin."
Her stomach churned at the threat, unspoken but clear. Damien didn't make idle promises.
"Fine," she said, her voice shaking. "I'll meet you."
"Good." And then the line went dead.
Clara lowered the phone, her hands trembling. She looked at Lucas, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and determination.
She wouldn't let Damien take him. No matter what.
---
The next day came too quickly.
Clara sat in the booth at the far corner of the diner, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. She'd arrived early, hoping to get a moment to steady herself before Damien arrived.
But the moment she saw him walk through the door, her resolve wavered.
He was dressed in a dark suit, the kind that looked tailored to perfection. His presence drew eyes, even in a place as humble as this. But his attention was focused solely on her.
Clara straightened her spine, bracing herself as he approached.
"Clara," he said, sliding into the seat across from her.
"Damien." She forced herself to meet his gaze, though it felt like staring into a storm.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was palpable, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down on them both.
"Why?" he asked finally, breaking the silence. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Clara sighed, her fingers tightening around the coffee cup. "You wouldn't have understood."
"Try me."
She hesitated, her mind racing. How could she explain what had happened without opening wounds she'd spent years trying to heal?
"I was scared," she admitted finally. "Scared of what you'd do if you found out."
Damien's jaw tightened. "You think I'd hurt him?"
"No," she said quickly. "Not physically. But your world, Damien... it's dangerous. I didn't want him caught up in that."
His eyes softened slightly, but his expression remained guarded. "You should have let me decide that."
Clara shook her head. "You don't understand. Lucas... he's not like other kids."
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "He has... abilities," she said quietly.
Damien's brows furrowed. "Abilities?"
"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Things I can't explain. Things that make him special."
For the first time, Damien looked genuinely stunned. He leaned back in his seat, processing her words.
"What kind of abilities?" he asked finally.
Clara hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "He can sense things," she said. "Emotions, intentions. Sometimes he even... affects them."
Damien's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. "And you think that's why I shouldn't be in his life?"
"I think that's why he needs to be protected," she said. "From people who might want to use him. From people like you."
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, almost resigned.
"You don't trust me."
"No," she said honestly. "I don't."
Damien nodded slowly, as if he'd expected that answer. "But you're wrong about one thing."
"What's that?"
"I'm not the one you need to protect him from."
Clara frowned, her heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"
Damien leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Someone's looking for him, Clara. Someone who knows what he can do."
Her blood ran cold. "Who?"
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But they're not going to stop until they find him."
Clara's hands trembled as she stared at him, her mind reeling. She'd spent years running from Damien, convinced he was the biggest threat to Lucas. But now, she wasn't so sure.
"What do we do?" she asked finally, her voice barely audible.
Damien's gaze hardened, his determination clear. "We protect him. Together."
Clara is forced to consider an alliance with Damien as an unknown threat looms closer, threatening Lucas and everything she's fought to protect.