Callum's POV
I don't open the door.
The man outside keeps pounding. "I know you can hear me! Elena needs medical help! You're putting her life at risk!"
He's good. I'll give him that. His voice sounds genuinely worried. If I didn't know better, I might believe he actually cares.
But I read that message on her phone. Everyone will see what you really are. That's not concern. That's a threat.
"The coast road is destroyed," I shout back. "No one's getting in or out tonight. Come back in the morning."
"She could be dying right now!"
I glance at Elena. Her breathing is steady. Pulse stable. She's not dying. But he doesn't need to know that.
"I'm a doctor," I call out. "She's stable. She'll survive the night."
There's a pause. Then: "You're not a doctor anymore, are you, Dr. Thorne? Didn't they take your license? For killing a patient?"
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
He did his research. He knows exactly who I am. What I lost. How to hurt me.
"I didn't kill anyone," I say quietly, but I'm not sure he can hear me over the storm.
"The medical board disagrees! You're a disgraced surgeon playing doctor in some fishing village. You have no right to keep Elena from proper medical care. Open this door or I swear I'll—"
"You'll what?" I interrupt. "Break down my door? In the middle of a storm? While you're trespassing? Go ahead. Try it."
Silence.
Then footsteps. Moving away.
But I know he's not leaving. Men like him don't leave. They regroup. They plan. They come back harder.
I lock the door and push a heavy bookshelf in front of it. It won't stop someone determined, but it'll slow them down.
When I turn around, Elena's eyes are open.
She's staring at me with the most terrified expression I've ever seen. Her mouth opens but no sound comes out. She tries to sit up and gasps in pain.
"Don't move," I say quickly, moving to her side. "You have broken ribs. You were in a car accident."
"Marcus," she whispers. "Was that Marcus outside?"
"I don't know who it was. He claimed you need help."
"No." She's shaking now, tears streaming down her face. "No, no, no. He found me. He can't—I can't—"
"Elena." I use my calm doctor voice, the one I used to use in the emergency room. "You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you."
"You don't understand. He'll say I'm crazy. He'll make everyone believe him. He always does." She's hyperventilating now, which is dangerous with cracked ribs.
I take her hand. It's small and cold in mine. "Breathe with me. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. That's it."
She follows my breathing. Slowly, her panic subsides.
"Who is Marcus?" I ask gently.
"My fiancé. Ex-fiancé." She closes her eyes. "He stole everything from me. My business. My friends. My reputation. And when I found out and tried to tell people, he made it look like I was the crazy one."
I've heard this story before. Different details, same pattern. Someone with power destroying someone without it.
"That's why you drove off the cliff," I say. It's not a question.
She nods. "I just wanted to disappear. I wasn't trying to... I mean, I didn't want to die. I just wanted to stop existing for a while. Does that make sense?"
It makes perfect sense. I've felt that way every day since Rosie died.
"You're not crazy," I tell her. "And I won't let him take you."
"Why?" She looks at me with those huge, wounded eyes. "You don't even know me."
"Because I know what it's like when everyone believes the worst about you. When your whole life falls apart and nobody listens to your side." I stand up, needing distance from the raw emotion in her face. "I won't watch it happen to someone else if I can stop it."
A loud crash comes from outside. We both freeze.
"What was that?" Elena whispers.
I move to the window. Through the rain, I can see figures moving near the lighthouse. More than one person.
He brought backup.
"How many people did Marcus bring?" I ask.
"I don't know. He has money. Connections. He could bring an army if he wanted to."
Another crash. This time closer. They're trying to break into the lighthouse tower.
"Can they get in that way?" Elena asks.
"Eventually." I'm already thinking, planning. The lighthouse door has a better lock than the cottage door, but nothing is unbreakable. "But it'll take them a while."
"Then what do we do?"
Good question. The storm makes leaving impossible. The road is destroyed. We're trapped here with nowhere to run.
Unless...
"There's a boat," I say suddenly. "An old fishing boat. It belongs to Tom, one of the villagers. He keeps it in a cove about a mile from here."
"We can't go out in this storm!"
"We can't stay here either. Marcus will get in eventually. And when he does, it'll be your word against his. A successful businessman versus a woman who just drove off a cliff." I hate saying it, but it's true. "Who do you think they'll believe?"
Elena's face crumples. "So I run again. I just keep running forever."
"No. We run now, just far enough to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere with lawyers and media and witnesses. Then you fight back on your terms, not his."
She stares at me for a long moment. Then she nods. "Okay. Let's go."
"You can barely walk."
"Then you'll have to help me."
There's steel in her voice now. Fear, yes, but also determination. This woman survived a car crash and is being hunted by her abuser, but she's not giving up.
I respect that.
"Can you stand?" I ask.
She tries. Gasps in pain. But she makes it to her feet, leaning heavily on me.
I grab supplies—water, bandages, a flashlight. Wrap Elena in a waterproof coat. Every movement hurts her, I can tell, but she doesn't complain.
"We'll go out the back," I say. "Through the kitchen window. It's small, but—"
The front door explodes inward.
The bookshelf I pushed in front of it topples over with a deafening crash. And there, standing in the doorway with rain pouring behind him, is a man I recognize from Elena's phone.
Marcus.
He's tall, handsome in an expensive way. His hair is wet but still perfect. His eyes lock onto Elena with an intensity that makes my skin crawl.
"There you are, darling." His voice is soft. Concerned. Completely fake. "We've been so worried about you."
Two other men enter behind him. Big guys. Security, probably.
Elena's hand tightens on my arm. She's trembling.
"You need to leave," I say firmly. "You're trespassing."
Marcus looks at me like I'm an insect. "And you must be the disgraced doctor. How fitting. A mentally unstable woman hiding with a man who killed his own patient. What a pair you make."
"I didn't kill anyone."
"No? Then why did they take your license?" He takes a step closer. "I've done my research, Dr. Thorne. You made a mistake during surgery. Someone died. You ran away to this nowhere village to hide. Just like Elena is trying to hide now."
"That's not what happened," I say, but doubt creeps in. Because isn't he right? Didn't I run? Didn't I hide?
"Marcus, please," Elena says, her voice shaking. "Just leave me alone."
"I can't do that, Elena. You're sick. You need help." He gestures to his security. "We're taking you to a hospital. A real hospital, not this..." He looks around the cottage with disgust. "...this disaster."
"She's not going anywhere with you."
"That's not your decision." Marcus pulls out his phone. "I have a court order being processed as we speak. Elena is a danger to herself. She drove off a cliff, for God's sake! Any judge will agree she needs psychiatric evaluation."
Elena makes a sound like a wounded animal. "No. Not again. You can't—"
"I can. And I will." Marcus nods to his security. "Get her."
The two big men move toward us.
I put myself between them and Elena. "Touch her and I'll—"
"You'll what? Fight? You're outnumbered. Outsized. And you have no legal right to keep her here." Marcus smiles. "Face it, Doctor. You've already lost."
He's right. In a physical fight, I'm outmatched. And legally, he probably has grounds to force Elena into psychiatric hold.
But I didn't save her from that cliff just to watch him take her now.
One of the security guards reaches for Elena. She screams.
And something inside me snaps.
The old Callum—the surgeon who commanded operating rooms, who made life-or-death decisions, who never backed down—comes roaring back to life.
I grab the guard's arm and twist. Hard. He yelps and stumbles back.
"Run!" I shout to Elena. "The window! Go!"
She doesn't hesitate. She runs for the kitchen, moving faster than someone with cracked ribs should be able to move.
The second guard lunges at me. I duck, and he crashes into the wall.
Marcus is yelling something. Orders. Threats. I don't listen.
I just fight.
I'm not a fighter. Never have been. But I'm desperate. And desperate men are dangerous.
I make it to the kitchen. Elena is already climbing through the window, gasping in pain but moving. I boost her through, then follow.
We land hard on the muddy ground outside. The storm hits us immediately—wind, rain, cold.
"Which way?" Elena shouts.
"This way!"
We run into the darkness. Behind us, I hear Marcus screaming. Footsteps. Flashlights cutting through the rain.
They're coming after us.
The cove is a mile away. Elena is injured. I'm not exactly in peak physical condition.
We're never going to make it.
But we run anyway. Through the storm. Through the pain. Through the fear.
Because sometimes running is the only choice you have left.
We're halfway to the cove when Elena collapses.
"I can't," she gasps. "I can't keep going."
"Yes, you can." I pull her up. "Just a little farther."
"Leave me. Save yourself."
"Not happening."
The flashlights are getting closer. Marcus's voice cuts through the wind: "There's nowhere to run, Elena! Stop making this harder than it has to be!"
We stumble forward. Every step is agony for her, I know. But she doesn't stop.
Finally—finally—I see it. The cove. The boat.
"Almost there," I tell Elena. "Just a few more steps."
We reach the boat. It's small, barely big enough for two people. The storm will tear it apart if we're not careful.
But it's our only chance.
I help Elena in. She's shaking so hard her teeth are chattering. I push the boat into the water and jump in.
Behind us, Marcus and his security reach the shore.
"Stop!" Marcus screams. "Elena, if you leave with him, I'll destroy you! I'll tell everyone you kidnapped yourself! That you're insane! No one will ever believe you again!"
Elena looks back at him. Rain streams down her face. For a moment, I think she might actually listen.
Then she turns to me. "Go. Get us out of here."
I pull the engine cord. Once. Twice. Nothing.
"Come on," I mutter. "Come on."
Third pull. The engine sputters to life.
We're moving. Away from shore. Into the storm. Into the churning black water.
Marcus is still screaming behind us, but his voice fades into the wind.
"We made it," Elena whispers. "We actually made it."
I want to agree. Want to believe we're safe.
But then I see it.
A wave. Massive. Black. Rising out of the darkness like a living thing.
And it's coming straight for us.
"Hold on!" I scream.
The wave hits.
The world turns upside down.
And everything goes dark.