The city buzzed with an energy that Mae could no longer connect to. Walking home after the encounter in the alley, she felt like an outsider in her own life. The familiar lights, the comforting hum of late-night traffic, even the cool breeze that used to calm her—none of it offered solace anymore. Instead, the shadows felt darker, the corners sharper, and the air heavier.

She couldn't shake the tension that had settled deep in her bones. The encounter with the man from Hell's Angels—his cold, calculating presence—was one thing, but Charlie's unexpected arrival had sent her spiraling into a pit of confusion. She should have felt relieved that Charlie showed up, that he had saved her from whatever the man had planned, but she didn't.

There was something in his eyes tonight, something that didn't match the man she'd known. That brief moment when he'd faced the man, that tension she couldn't read—it made her question everything. And then his warning: You can't trust anyone.

Even you? The thought flickered through her mind like a warning light, but she pushed it down, unwilling to confront it. Not yet.

The streets grew quieter as she walked further away from the bustling downtown, the noises fading into a distant hum. Her footsteps echoed on the pavement as she approached her apartment building, her eyes scanning the street for any sign of movement. Even in the quiet, she felt watched, hunted.

Mae fumbled with her keys as she reached the door to her building, her hands shaking more than she realized. She slipped inside and made her way up the stairs to her apartment, her pulse racing as if the man from the alley had followed her, lurking just out of sight.

She slammed the door shut behind her, locking it immediately. The apartment was dark and still, the only sound her ragged breathing. For a moment, she just stood there, leaning against the door, trying to calm the storm in her mind.

You can't trust anyone.

The words echoed in her head, feeding the paranoia that had been growing inside her since the threats began. Who was behind all of this? Who was pulling the strings? And why did Charlie seem to know so much more than he was telling her?

Mae flicked on the lights, the sudden brightness startling her. She glanced around her apartment, every corner, every shadow, feeling the weight of invisible eyes watching her. Her phone buzzed again, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart raced as she pulled it out of her pocket, half expecting another ominous message. But it was from Frank this time.

"I'm okay. Laying low for a bit. Be careful."

Mae exhaled sharply, relief washing over her. At least Frank was still alive. But the relief was short-lived. What did he mean by laying low? How long could they both hide before the people behind Hell's Angels caught up with them?

Mae tossed her phone onto the couch and walked into the kitchen, needing something to ground her. She grabbed a glass of water, her hands still trembling as she took a sip, but it did little to calm her nerves. Her thoughts were spinning too fast, every detail of the past few days colliding in her mind.

Who is Charlie really?

The question gnawed at her, relentless. She wanted to trust him—needed to trust him—but the way he'd handled the man in the alley, the way he'd brushed off her questions afterward, something about it didn't sit right.

She walked over to the window, staring out at the city below. Lights flickered in the distance, cars moved steadily along the streets, and life continued as if nothing had changed. But for Mae, everything had.

The world she thought she knew had crumbled, replaced by a web of deceit and control, one she didn't know how to escape. Every instinct told her she was in deeper than she realized, that there were forces at play she couldn't see, and that somehow, Charlie was connected to it all.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, trying to think, trying to make sense of everything. Why had Charlie been there tonight? How had he known she was in trouble? She hadn't told him about meeting Frank, hadn't even mentioned the alley. Yet he had shown up, just in time to pull her out of danger.

Mae's fingers clenched into fists as frustration bubbled up inside her. She hated feeling this way—so lost, so powerless. But that's exactly what they wanted. The people behind Hell's Angels wanted to break her, to make her doubt everything and everyone around her.

Her phone buzzed again, and she grabbed it, half-expecting another cryptic message. But it wasn't a text this time. It was a call.

It was Charlie.

For a moment, she considered ignoring it, letting it go to voicemail. But that gnawing feeling in her gut told her she needed to answer, that there was more at stake than just her fear.

"Hello?" she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

"Mae," Charlie's voice came through, calm but firm. "I just wanted to check in. I know tonight was...a lot."

"Yeah," Mae replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "It was."

There was a brief pause on the other end, long enough for Mae to hear her own heartbeat in the silence.

"I didn't mean to scare you earlier," Charlie said. "I just...I've been worried about you. And I want to make sure you're safe."

Mae's grip tightened on the phone. "How did you know where I was tonight? How did you know I was meeting Frank?"

There it was, the question she had been too afraid to ask before. The one that had been clawing at the back of her mind since the moment Charlie had appeared in that alley.

"I've been keeping an eye on things," Charlie replied, his voice careful, measured. "There's a lot going on behind the scenes, and I didn't want you to get caught up in something dangerous."

Mae's stomach twisted. His answer made sense on the surface, but it didn't explain everything. It didn't explain the way he had looked at the man in the alley, or the way he had warned her not to trust anyone.

"Why didn't you tell me about it before?" Mae pressed, her voice growing sharper. "Why are you only telling me this now?"

There was another pause, longer this time. When Charlie spoke again, his voice was lower, almost cautious. "Because I wasn't sure how deep it went. And I didn't want to scare you until I knew for sure."

Mae's heart pounded in her chest. The fear, the paranoia, the doubt—it all crashed over her at once. She didn't know what to believe anymore. She wanted to trust Charlie, but the more he spoke, the more she felt like she was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

"You don't have to go through this alone, Mae," Charlie continued, his voice gentle now. "You've got me, and I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe."

Mae swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I don't know who to trust anymore, Charlie."

His response was immediate, but there was something in his tone that made Mae's skin prickle. "Trust me. I'm the only one who can help you."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Mae stared at her reflection in the window, her breath fogging up the glass. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond. All she knew was that she was trapped, and no matter what she did, there seemed to be no way out.

After a long moment, she whispered, "Okay."

But even as the word left her lips, Mae wasn't sure if she meant it.