Page 34 of Sing For Us

“I saw it with my own eyes.” A gasp leaves me, and I think about where Noa could have been.

“When was this?” I’m not inquiring because I care about her; I don’t. No, this is information I can discuss with Noa later.

“August 27th, 2020.” Fuck me sideways, that date sounds so familiar. My adrenaline and fear are making it hard to focus. This is so unlike me, and I make a mental note to ask Noa if I can get into martial arts, or have Josh and Oliver teach me.

“What is it, genius? Did the cat get your tongue?” This sneaky bitch doesn’t even let me think. I put my hand on the hood of my car and start pounding on it.

“Come out and face me! Noa will find me soon enough.” And that broke the dam that separated Lana and me. I would have expected heavy breathing, but nothing came. She's still ice-cold when she speaks her next words.

“I actually hope he does. That’s the whole point, but first things first. We are going to have some fun.”

“I’m not doing shit, you psycho.”

“Turn around, or I’ll play a game of solitaire with your body.” I hang up and turn around. And there she is.

Lana.

She’s nothing as I remembered her—she is in full tactical gear right now with a sniper rifle in her hand. But her most dangerous weapons are her eyes. They are void of any emotion. This shows how well she manipulated all of us.

Her rifle is still pointed at me while her icy words cut through me. “Noa loves you, and I will make him pay for what he did to me.”

“Lana,” I say in my calmest voice. “Don’t do this. We got along so well.” For just a fleeting moment, something flickers in her eyes. A minuscule amount of regret—but it’s quickly replaced by a calculating gaze. The change makes my hair stand on edge.

The rain that is pouring onto us is freezing. It’s sticking to our clothes, and every drop hits like a needle on my numbed skin. And the downpour drowns out all background noise. I hate that I am terrified, even though I grew up with assassins. Hell, my cousin is the most dangerous one. But Lana… she gives him a run for his money.

“If you try to manipulate an assassin with a psychology degree, you got another thing coming.” I should have seen that one coming. Lana’s smirk is immediate and startling.

“Run, genius.”

I turn on my heel and start running into the forest no one goes into. This is the fastest I have ever run, and I hate fucking running. Or jogging. Now I am beating myself up for not running more in my free time.

Not fucking now, Hana.

The rain is clattering against the ground, and the trees are soaking up the water. Even if I screamed right now, no one would hear me. I would be drowned out by the sound of the water droplets, which could become ice in a matter of seconds as the sky is starting to rumble. My desperation to get to safety has never been greater. I need to fucking live. But that sentiment is out of reach as I hear Lana running towards me. The one thing I can hear.

“Keep running!” Her shouts and loud laugh are the perfect backdrop for this eerie scene. While I do have great stamina, it’s not suitable with the adrenaline I am facing now. The tree branches getting stomped on are getting louder while my heartbeat is reaching dangerous levels. When I think my life would be over, a small house with the lights on gets bigger.

Fuck yes. Shelter. People. Normalcy.

My knees buckle before I clear the tree line, gravity finally doing its thing after minutes of absolute terror. This is just what I needed—falling into fucking mud. Lana is moving fast towards me while her rifle is strapped against her back.

Because it’s dark, I can’t see her that well. But I hear her just fine. “Don’t you dare go into that house!”

“Fuck you!” I shout back. I stand up while mud accumulates in my shoes and on my clothes, and sprint toward the house. I see two women through the window, and I want to shout hallelujah because somebody is inside. But before I can reach the front door, they go away. I don’t even knock; I burst through the front door, and I am grateful it’s not locked. My back is turned against the door, but I won’t hold for long against the brute force of Lana.

A chair. Yes.

I grab the chair and place it under the door handle, hoping it will keep her at bay for just a little until Noa comes here. I’m dialing his number, but the cell reception is shit.

“Hana, where the fuck are you?!” Noa screams through the phone when I finally get him.

“Noa! Lana is after me, and I am in a weird fucking house near the University of Architecture. Look at my–” My phone dies. “No!” I scream and curse myself for not charging my phone before I left. And where are those two girls?

“Help us! Help us!” Oh my God. Lana got them. I look for anything that looks like a weapon and grab a knife from the kitchen. My feet carry me upstairs, where I heard the screaming coming from. Even though I am not skilled in combat, I can’t let two women die. I will always do my fucking best to save women.

“No! Don’t do this!” The third door down the hall is where the screaming is coming from, and once I open the door, my body freezes. My next breath catches halfway up my throat, sharp and dry even though I am soaking wet from the rain. I can’t take any more steps as if my soles are welded to the floorboards.

The entire room is designed to ruin me, psychologically. Lana knows I was a ballerina, and she must have found out how being a ballerina broke me from the inside out. The years of torture and pressure from my parents were excruciating.