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Chapter 28 - Pockets
Last Updated:
2025-04-11 18:17:54
BryantPockets is such a good boy, taking care of his human.
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Troubled Heart Chapter 29 - Makayla
I hadn’t slept. Not really.Not since I walked out of that penthouse and slammed the door on the most exquisitely curated betrayal money could buy. I’d stripped off my coat, kicked off my boots, fed Pockets his kibble, and then just… sat. For hours. My laptop glowed on the desk across from me. I hadn’t touched it.Until now.A ping split the silence like a shot across a battlefield. [URGENT: Incoming - Countermeasure Filed]The subject line punched the breath out of my lungs. I lunged for the laptop.The message was from Reese. Short. Clinical. Deadly.'Stacey filed in three jurisdictions—Colorado, DC, and New York. Civil defamation, data tampering, unauthorized surveillance. She’s moving fast. The press release paints you as an unbalanced hacker ex with a grudge. They’re calling you emotionally volatile. Obsessive. Possibly dangerous. Her lawyers are leaking it already. We’re prepping the response, but Mak… we need something decisive. She’s playing dirty. You need to go nuclear.'My
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Thick, blinding snow whipped across the highway, turning the landscape into swirling chaos. I barely blinked, my focus fixed on the road ahead. The biting wind howled outside, but determination surged within me. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the wheel, pushing through the storm. The engine purred beneath me, a steady reminder of my resolve with each turn of the tires on the icy asphalt. Next to me, the flash drive in the console felt alive, pulsating with energy. It contained everything I needed to dismantle Stacey Sherbourn’s empire—a foundation built on deceit. Inside were damning emails, revealing agreements, and hidden financial transfers that exposed her greed. These weren’t just documents; they were weapons poised to ruin her and shatter her carefully crafted image. The weight of their implications was palpable in the small space between us. Pockets, my loyal companion, stretched beside me before flopping back onto his blanket, blissfully unaware of the danger ahead. Hi
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The cabin creaked as the wind howled outside, rattling the shutters with icy fingers. I barely noticed. My pencil glided over the sketchpad, the delicate curves and sharp angles of a new design taking form under my fingertips. The flickering glow of the fireplace cast shadows across the page, the soft crackle of burning wood filling the quiet space around me.Outside, the snow fell harder. Thick flakes swirled past the window, disappearing into the endless white expanse of the Rocky Mountains. The storm had been creeping in slowly and steadily since last night until the distant peaks vanished beneath a heavy veil. The world beyond my cabin blurred into a wintry void.I let out a soft sigh, tilting my head as I examined my latest creation with a mix of pride and contemplation. The floor-length coat stood before me, its silhouette gracefully cinched at the waist, draping effortlessly over an imagined form that exuded strength and femininity. The oversized collar was a statement piece—bo
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The first thing I felt was warmth. A heavy, comforting weight pressed against my side, radiating heat that contrasted sharply with the last thing I remembered—the bone-deep cold of the storm, the blinding snow, the moment my tires lost control.I wasn’t in my car anymore.My eyelids were heavy, but I forced them open as consciousness clawed its way back. The ceiling was unfamiliar. There were wooden beams. There was a soft, flickering light. It was not my apartment, not a hospital. Not anywhere I recognized.I inhaled, my chest aching with the movement. Firewood. Tea. Something faintly herbal, clean. Not the sterile scent of antiseptic. This wasn’t a medical facility.Something shifted against me, and I turned my head, wincing at the sharp throb that flared at my temple.Pockets.His tiny, fluffy corgi-sized body was curled against me, his fur warm beneath my fingers as I instinctively reached for him. His breathing was soft but quick, his little chest rising and falling in short, une
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The wind slammed into me as soon as I stepped outside, whipping snow against my face with icy force. I hunched deeper into my coat, gripping the flashlight tight as I trudged down the path toward the distant wreck. Each step sank deep into fresh drifts, the snow crunching stubbornly beneath my boots.I couldn’t shake the feeling that my night had taken a surreal turn.Tending to the woman’s injuries had felt awkwardly intimate, cleaning scrapes, bandaging bruised ribs, and covering her gently with blankets while she’d been unconscious. It wasn’t until she’d woken up that I’d finally put the pieces together, recognizing her vividly colored hair and those striking features. She was familiar—not personally, but from photographs splashed across the web, standing beside Stacey Sherbourn at elegant events. She was Makayla Hopkins, daughter of a New York senator, tech genius—and, according to the press, Stacey’s devoted long-term girlfriend.My jaw clenched tightly against the bitter wind.S
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Sunlight seeped through the curtains, warming my skin as consciousness gradually returned. The dull ache in my ribs greeted me immediately—a lingering reminder of how close I’d come to disaster. Slowly, I pushed myself upright, careful not to aggravate my injuries, my eyes adjusting to the cozy bedroom around me.Pockets lifted his head, ears perking up as I stirred. He wagged his tail sleepily as if reassuring me everything was fine now. I smiled softly, scratching behind his ears. At least one of us had slept peacefully.The woman—my mysterious rescuer—had promised to go back out into the storm and retrieve my things. Had she really braved the blizzard for me, a stranger she’d found crumpled in a wrecked car? Doubt twisted inside me. Growing up surrounded by politicians taught me how empty promises could be. I needed proof.Taking a steadying breath, I slipped my feet onto the cold floor, standing slowly to test my strength. The pain was manageable, and as I wrapped myself in the wa
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The tension lingered like smoke, winding silently through the cozy cabin as I rose carefully from the couch. Makayla sat quietly, her eyes fixed thoughtfully on the crackling fireplace, her fingers twitching slightly against the now-empty space on her lap. Pockets had climbed down from Makayla’s legs, stretched luxuriously, and padded toward me across the worn wood floor. He lifted his sweet, expressive face, offering a soft whine until I crouched and gently scratched behind his ears.“Hello again,” I whispered, smiling when his eyes drifted closed in pure bliss. “Looks like you’ve made yourself at home.”He nudged my hand affectionately before following me closely toward the kitchen. Behind me, I could feel Makayla’s gaze following my movements—curious, cautious, and sharply observant. It wasn’t overt suspicion. It was more like a wary uncertainty that mirrored my own.I busied myself filling the kettle and setting it on the stove, the faint click of the burner igniting as I reached
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The darkness wrapped around us like a shroud, sudden and suffocating. I froze, heart pounding, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the abrupt loss of light. Beside me, Lilac sucked in a sharp breath, her tension mirroring my own. Even Pockets whimpered softly, pressing against my legs, seeking comfort I wasn’t entirely sure I could offer. “Are you okay?” Lilac asked, her voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty hidden within. “Yeah, just startled,” I admitted quietly. My fingers reached out instinctively, brushing unintentionally against the back of Lilac’s hand before quickly pulling away. “What happened?” “The power’s out,” she said matter-of-factly, though her tone carried an underlying thread of anxiety. “The storm must have knocked down the power line, and since my generator hasn’t kicked on, something likely happened to it too.” I forced myself to breathe steadily, the sudden chill seeping into the cabin now that the fire had vanished. “Do you have flashlights? Cand
Last Updated : 2025-03-18
Latest chapter
Troubled Heart Chapter 29 - Makayla
I hadn’t slept. Not really.Not since I walked out of that penthouse and slammed the door on the most exquisitely curated betrayal money could buy. I’d stripped off my coat, kicked off my boots, fed Pockets his kibble, and then just… sat. For hours. My laptop glowed on the desk across from me. I hadn’t touched it.Until now.A ping split the silence like a shot across a battlefield. [URGENT: Incoming - Countermeasure Filed]The subject line punched the breath out of my lungs. I lunged for the laptop.The message was from Reese. Short. Clinical. Deadly.'Stacey filed in three jurisdictions—Colorado, DC, and New York. Civil defamation, data tampering, unauthorized surveillance. She’s moving fast. The press release paints you as an unbalanced hacker ex with a grudge. They’re calling you emotionally volatile. Obsessive. Possibly dangerous. Her lawyers are leaking it already. We’re prepping the response, but Mak… we need something decisive. She’s playing dirty. You need to go nuclear.'My
Troubled Heart Chapter 28 - Pockets
I knew something was wrong when we left that shiny, cold building. At least we left behind that horrid human. Stacey was never right for my human. I’m glad she finally did something about it.Makayla didn’t say a word. Not one. She just opened the car door like it weighed a hundred pounds and slid into the driver’s seat with that quiet sort of stiffness that only meant one thing: she was hurting.She smelled different now. Not like the warm cinnamon and snow she usually did. No. Now, she smelled like firewood that burned too long. Bitter. Sharp. Grief and something else I didn’t like. It clung to her skin even when she rolled down the windows and let the mountain air in. Like she was trying to breathe something that didn’t hurt.I jumped into the seat beside her, turned in a tight circle, and then sat with my back pressed against her thigh. She didn’t look at me or scratch behind my ears like she normally did when we got in the car. She just sat there with her hands on the wheel, knuc
Troubled Heart Chapter 27 - Makayla
The Aurora Ridge shimmered like a mountain jewel, its grandeur built on arrogance and wealth. The snow sparkled on the archway as I parked the rental, the engine quieting with a sigh, bracing for what was to come. The morning sky was pale, but everything around gleamed like it had never faced a storm. I turned off the engine, my breath fogging in the still air. Pockets stirred in his seat. I checked my phone for the time and for any message from Reese. “Going in,” I had texted her an hour ago. No reply necessary. She understood. I lingered a moment longer, hands gripping the steering wheel. My reflection was calm and cold, the type that cuts deep—no makeup except dark eyeliner, hair up, dressed in black—a frostbite of resolve. “You ready?” I murmured, glancing at Pockets. He wagged his tail once. Just once. Enough to tell me he knew something serious was happening but that he was still with me. Still mine. I opened the door. The cold bit through my clothes, but I barely felt it a
Troubled Heart Chapter 26 - Lilac
I hadn't slam the door to my bedroom, though I wanted to. I closed it with slow, deliberate finality—the soft click more satisfying than any burst of anger could’ve been. I hadn't wanted another fight. Not tonight. I needed space. Quiet. And a plan. The leather-bound notebook was clutched tight in my hand, the ridged corner pressing into my palm like a reminder that this wasn’t a dream. It was real. Every word. Every scribbled name. Every threat my father had tried to keep tucked away on a dusty shelf like time would bury it for him. I sank onto my bed, still wrapped in the same oversized sweater I’d changed into that morning. The room hadn’t changed since I was nineteen. The same faded concert posters that were curling at the edges. The same worn quilt on the twin bed. The same air that smelled of cedar, old paper, and forgotten ambition. But I wasn’t the same. Not anymore. I set the notebook down and reached under my bed, tugging out the fireproof lockbox where I kept my backup so
Troubled Heart Chapter 25 - Makayla
The conference room's windows were nearly black, mirroring the snowy Aspen streets outside and my mood within. I tugged my dark turtleneck down, feeling the cold clinging to me despite the heat indoors. I set my laptop on the glossy table and connected to the secure video link. Reese’s face filled the main square, flanked by a journalist from The Intercept and Denver civil rights attorney Karla St. James, whose piercing gaze commanded attention even over Zoom. “Makayla,” Reese greeted with her usual calm professionalism, though I caught the tightness around her eyes. She was in her Boston office, a towering wall of books behind her, a mug steaming beside her elbow. “You look like hell.” “Thanks,” I muttered. “It’s my new aesthetic: blizzard-chic.” Karla chuckled faintly, but the journalist didn’t react. He was already reviewing the shared documents on the screen, flipping between pages of scanned contracts, metadata reports, and audio logs I’d decrypted weeks ago. “Before we begin,
Troubled Heart Chapter 24 - Lilac
I had been back in my father’s cabin for less than a day and felt suffocated. Everything looked the same—the creaky floorboards, the pine-paneled walls, the old plaid couch smelling of cedar and winter air. But I wasn’t the same. I boiled water for tea I didn’t want, changed into fresh leggings and an oversized sweater, and combed my hair in the narrow hallway mirror. Everything reminded me of Makayla, from the kettle to the quiet. I wanted to text her something stupid, but I didn’t have her number. I should've asked before I left, but Dad was looming nearby with the rescue crew. I felt too awkward and rushed to think of something so small but important as exchanging numbers. I stepped back from the stove, hugging myself. The room felt too quiet—no laughter or teasing, just the water whistle and heavy silence. Dad stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, lost in thought. After the conversation in the truck, he hadn’t said much, but now, as the kettle whined, he finally turned to me.
Troubled Heart Chapter 23 - Makayla
After my shower and the haunting memories of Lilac, I collapsed onto the hotel bed, Pockets curled into a warm donut at my feet. The heater hummed softly, but I couldn’t shake the chill running through my spine. My burner phone was finally charged. I’d kept it on battery-saver all morning, waiting until I was out of the mountains to call. Group texting was easy, but hearing a voice required strength I hadn’t had until now. I hit the call button for Reese first. She answered on the second ring. “Makayla.” Her voice was sharp, worried, and so familiar that I nearly broke down. “I’m okay,” I said quietly. “I’m okay, Reese.” “You better be, you absolute chaos magnet. Clay was ready to come storming the Rockies in a plow truck. No clue where he would get one, but he'd find one. The triplets were drawing straws for who would dig you out. Where the hell have you been?” Reese caught me up on the cause of her brother and our cousins’ reactions to the news I’d been snowed in somewhere.
Troubled Heart Chapter 22 - Lilac
I did not want to leave. The words weren’t on my lips, but they gathered at the back of my throat like a scream I was not allowed to let out. Not when Makayla stood in that cabin doorway, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if she were hanging together by sheer willpower. Not when her smile faltered, but when she assured me it was okay. That she’d take care of Stacey. It wasn’t okay. It didn’t sit well. But I nodded anyway and stepped away from the cabin, the flickering fire, and the room that somehow became sacred—hers. I rode beside my father’s truck, my arms crossed over my chest, my jaw locked so hard my ears ached. The heater blew full blast on the windshield, battering the skim of ice already beginning to coat the glass, but the heat couldn’t chase away the cold lump growing in my chest. We had only driven for ten minutes, and I regretted leaving. Leaving her. Leaving Makayla. “You should’ve called,” my father grumbled, his voice low and gravelly as he navigated th
Troubled Heart Chapter 21 - Makayla
The instant Lilac vanished with her father, a shiver I couldn’t attribute to the storm crept into my marrow. I just stood there in the trampled snow in front of the cabin, Pockets alongside me, my arms tight around myself despite being bundled up in Lilac’s extra clothes. I couldn’t help but remember her parting look—worried but resolute—as she tied up her boots and said, “Since it’s what you want, I’ll take care of my dad.” It was as if she was trying to keep me from something and didn’t want me to know what he was. Or worse… who she had to be when he was around. I hadn’t interrupted her. I was the one who told her to handle her dad, so I said it was fine. I lied. The rescue crew eventually did get my battered rental out of the snow’s clutches. The front was worse crumpled than I imagined, the driver'sdoor had been left ajar from when Lilac rescued me so the interior wad fullof snow. When I dig enough of the snow out, I climbed in, disregarding the sleet that had frozen on the das
