Run away, hide away
But still they take you by surprise
Dreams where ur murdered
— Dreams where You're Murdered by X Lovers

The last time I attended a funeral, I ended up fainting. The incident was the topic of main interest for a week amongst our nosy neighbors until they found something more interesting to gossip about. I didn't think I would be attending another funeral anytime soon after my mother's, let alone the funeral of a friend who turned out to be a traitor in his final breath.

I wasn't exactly sure about what to feel.

Nick was my friend, but he almost killed me. I wished I was able to talk to him before he shot himself in the head, which Gray and Isaac believed was murder. The bartender who slipped the drug in my drink was killed in disguise of a suicide.

Everyone in Brickfields found out about Nick's past, but they didn't know about what he almost did the night he died. He had left a suicide note in his pocket detailing the murder he committed and his relationship with his former lover in high school whom he raped.

The weather was dull today, adding to the gloominess that surrounded us. Nick's family was standing across from where I was, crying for their lost loved one. They would have to compensate the family of Nick's victim, but for now, they were grieving. A pang of hurt hit my chest as I watched them, and my grip on Victoria's hand tightened. Gray and I had to tell the others about everything that happened, excluding the letters we were receiving.

Victoria let out a whimper as they lowered the casket, and I glanced away. Gray, Isaac, and Liam were standing beside Jordan, consoling him as he cried silently. Nick was still our friend, and because of that, his betrayal and departure hurt a thousand times more.

I didn't know how long we stood there, staring at the buried casket. His family thanked us for coming to his funeral. But we stayed for minutes on end until it was only us left, wondering why he did what he did.

"He had been acting strange since he came to Brickfields," said Jordan. "I assumed he was in conflict with his family again, so I didn't prod. He never liked talking about the issues he has with them."

"When did you find out about the truth?" Isaac wondered aloud.

"The day before we went to Manhattan. I found a bunch of letters in his drawer, threatening to expose his dirt to the public unless he does what they tell him to do. I honestly thought that it was just one of his pranks. Then I brought it up after Summer was drugged."

"And he completely lost it," said Liam.

A heavy, tense silence settled in the air between us.

"I would give you the letters, but they're all gone," Jordan revealed. "I tried searching for it everywhere in the dorm."

"He must've been told to destroy all the letters," Gray implied.

"Possibly." Jordan turned to me, his eyes deeply apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Summer. I should've seen it coming."

"None of us saw it coming," I said, smiling half a smile. "What he did hurts like hell. But what's done is done."

Another wave of silence.

"I think it's time we leave," Victoria suggested.

We quietly made our way to our cars. Gray curled an arm around my waist, and I glanced up at him with a faint smile before leaning into his touch. I spotted Mr. John standing in front of a random grave as he discreetly observed us. His eyes met mine, and he offered a curt nod. I heard that Mr. John was out of town when Gray told him about what happened.

"We'll see you guys in Brickfields," Isaac said as he crossed the street with Jordan.

Gray opened the passenger's seat door for me, and I stepped inside. Fastening my seatbelt, I noticed a black SUV parked a few meters ahead of us, its windows fully tinted. Who were they? I quickly took note of the license plate as Gray opened his door.

The rest of the day passed like a slow storm, with all of us huddled in the soccer house, chatting normally with no banter. Jordan had isolated himself in his bubble, joining the conversation when he pleased. We found solace in each other's presence. None of us dared to speak about Nick, afraid that it might trigger unwanted emotions. It seemed like we were avoiding the issue, but we knew there was no point in bringing it up when it would only bring more pain than a solution.

We were in the midst of watching a movie when the particular chime of my phone interrupted the silence. Gray glanced down at me, knowing who it was.

I opened the text message sent by Mr. John: I have the information you need. Are you free right now?

●      ●      ●

The cafe Mr. John had chosen was a hidden nook in the bustling city and a short drive from Brickfields. I found him seated at the corner of the room, sipping a hot drink. My eyes caught onto the folder on the table, and my stomach coiled with unease. Gray lent me his car and borrowed Isaac's to tailgate me. He was parked outside, across the street, observing us.

"Remember to breathe," he told me before we left the campus.

I occupied the seat opposite Mr. John, and his eyes dropped to my necklace. My hands clenched into fists underneath the table, and I forced out a wry smile to shield away the fear of getting found out.

He slid the folder towards me.

"There are no fingerprints left behind," he said, setting his mug down. "However, the envelope was custom-made from a printing shop called Flawless Copies."

Gray had mentioned that before.

"And the picture?" I questioned.

"Same place. But it's at least twelve years old." He leaned back on the chair, keeping his eyes trained on me.

I pulled the contents out from the folder. There were pictures of the shop, its exact location, and details about the business. I scanned the documents, and my eyebrows pulled together when I read the post-it note on one of the pictures.

I know he's listening.

My cheeks flushed as I glanced back up at Mr. John. He was staring through the glass windows with a smirk on his face; his eyes touched with tolerant amusement.

I knew this shit wouldn't work.

"A spy bug on the necklace," he chuckled. "Clever tactic, Mr. Gray. But don't you think it's rather old-school?"

Heat rushed up from my neck to my hairline, and Gray's mocking laughter echoed in my head. After the incident with Nick, Gray installed a tracker bug on my necklace. I was on the brink of a mental breakdown, and I agreed to it without deliberating whether it was a good thing or not. But it did give Gray a little peace of mind.

"Stay inside the car," Mr. John said in a stern voice, looking back at me. "Someone's been following you two the whole day."

My eyes widened. "I saw them at the funeral this morning. Could they be her's?"

"Possibly. Though, they're quite sloppy and obvious."

I stared at the picture of the printing shop. It was located in New Jersey, at least a five-hour drive from Brickfields.

"I have an idea," I announced.

●      ●      ●

Around seven in the morning, Gray and I drove down to New Jersey in separate cars. Flawless Copies was located in a busy street, and they have been around since the late nineties. They catered mainly to the filthy rich or anyone who could afford their ridiculously high prices.

I parked the car right outside the two-story glass building and stepped out. The guard offered a slight bow of the head as he opened the door for me, and I was instantly grateful for choosing to wear a suit jacket atop the dress I picked out for today. It was freezing inside. I scanned the room briefly. There was a lounge by the entrance with a snack bar of pastries and vegan sandwiches, and their entire wall to the right side was covered with display shelves.

I approached the front desk with a pearly smile, listening to the clicking of my heels against the tiled floors.

"Good afternoon," I crooned.

The woman smiled politely. "Good afternoon. How can I be of service?"

I pulled out the envelope from my clutch bag and handed it to her. "I would love to know what paper is used for that. I've been dying to know since I received it."

The front desk clerk entertained most of my inquiries. The paper used for the envelope was one of their seasonal products available only during fall and winter. According to the clerk, their customers for that specific type of paper were those who loved to flaunt their wealth. The process of Flawless Copies was simple; customers would choose the paper, the colors, and the designs they wanted, and the business would take care of the rest.

The envelope was a plain red with golden lace trimmings on the edges. The clerk still remembered the design since they only had to make thirty of it, an odd number compared to their usual bulk orders of hundreds. She couldn't give me the person's name, and I left it at that. I already knew they wouldn't reveal anything, but it was worth the shot.

I exited their shop, and just as I was about to hop into the car, a woman wearing the same uniform as the clerk I spoke with stopped me. Her dark hair was neatly pulled up into a ponytail, her brown eyes alight as she stared at me with determination.

"I'll give you the information you need. But I want something in return," she demanded.

"What do you want?" I asked cautiously.

"How important is the information?"

"How much are you asking?"

"Fifty thousand dollars in exchange for the customer's name."

I flashed her a smile. "Deal."

The woman gave me a location and time before disappearing inside the building. I glanced across the street to a black Mercedes, then stepped inside the safety of Gray's car. The engine purred to life, and I drove down the road just as my phone rang, the call connecting to the car's system.

"You were great," Gray beamed as soon as I answered.

I snickered. "And you said I had no potential in acting."

"An honest mistake."

I glanced up at the rearview mirror, spotting the same black SUV from last night. They had been tailing me since I left Brickfields this morning, watching me like a hawk.

"It's sickening how obvious they are," I sneered under my breath.

Gray sighed. "I know, Shortcake."

"Where are you?"

"Taking a different route," Isaac answered, sounding offended that I'd even ask. "There's a diner a few blocks down from where you are. You can stay there until your scheduled meet-up with that suspicious woman."

"Are you seriously telling me to sit in a diner for five hours straight?"

"We'll meet you there."

"No, we're staying in the car," Gray remarked.

"But I'm fucking starving."

"I don't bloody care. I told you to eat something before we left."

"That was breakfast, and it's past two in the goddamn afternoon," Isaac argued persistently. "I'm a big man, Gray."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You two argue like an old married couple."

"The diner's in front," warned Gray. "The name's Cherry's Secret."

"Sweet Jesus!" Isaac exclaimed as I slowed down and parked at an empty spot. "Victoria has a secret, and now Cherry does too?"

"You better feed him something, Gray."

Isaac scoffed mockingly. "Yes, Gray."

I transferred the call back to my phone and exited the car, taking note of the SUV parked on an empty lot a few meters ahead of where I was. I pressed my phone to my ear. I could hear the faint rustling of plastic in the background and then Gray cursing Isaac to shove all the snacks down his throat.

"Call me back," I said as I walked into the diner.

This was going to be one long afternoon.

Gray had the woman's background checked, and it turned out that she was struggling to pay her mother's hospital bills that totaled to about two hundred thousand dollars. To ask fifty thousand dollars meant a piece didn't fit the puzzle.

An hour before my possible scheduled demise, my heart started palpitating as multiple scenarios that could happen played in my head. I gulped down my sixth glass of water in under ten minutes and raised a hand to ask for another one. The waitress eyed me sympathetically as she approached me. She probably thought I was being stood up.

As soon as she left my table, my phone rang, and I jerked in shock.

I hurriedly answered the call. "Yeah?"

"Leave now," Gray said, the dominance leathering his voice. "We need to lose these shits who are following you."

"What do you have in mind?" I questioned.

"You'll be passing three different convenience stores on the way to the location," he pointed out. "The second one is in a more crowded area, so make a stop there and ask for the keys to the restroom. The cashier will hand you two sets of keys. One is for the restroom, and the other is for a Chevy parked at the back of the store."

"And what if they're waiting at the back?"

"There's a set of clothes inside the second stall in the restroom. Change into those, then make your exit."

"Will you and Isaac be following?"

"Don't worry, Shortcake," he assured me, his voice softer. "I won't let anything happen to you."

I peered out the window when he dropped the call. The sun had set, and the moon had taken over. The outcome of tonight was unclear, even though we had different strategies lined up in case one failed. The assholes who were tailing me were variables that I needed to eliminate.

I slipped out of the booth and headed for the exit.

I hopped into the car and drove down the busy roads, following Gray's instructions. Reaching the second convenience store, I jumped out and rushed inside to the cashier. The man behind stared down at me blankly.

"Hi," I squeaked out in fake urgency. "I need the keys to your restroom."

Grunting, he pulled a drawer open and handed me two sets of keys. I hurried over to the restroom and inside the second stall that had a sign on the door saying 'out of order.' Conveniently, there were a total of three stalls only. I dropped my bag to the ground and grabbed the plastic with clothes placed on the toilet seat. Then I stripped out of my dress and pulled on the shirt and jeans.

After shoving my old clothes into the plastic, I exited the restroom and headed for the back door with my head down. There were several vehicles, and the Chevy was parked at the very end, close to the street that led straight out to the main road.

The panic clung at my chest as I sprinted across the lot, the fear of being discovered enveloping my entire being. My heart quickened at the adrenaline, and it was only when I was finally inside the car did I allow myself to breathe.

That was one variable out of the equation.

●      ●      ●

I tightened my grip on my bag as I walked through the nearly empty parking lot. It was the kind of night that even a petal would fall without drifting. The trees were straight and silent, the leaves dangling more as if they had been painted there like an eerie canvas. It was still, utterly still. This was where that woman wanted to meet.

An involuntary shudder ran down my spine as the obvious signs that something was wrong nagged me at the back of my head. I couldn't find Gray and Isaac either.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I spun around and hurried back to the car. The sound of a vehicle approaching from behind made me turn around, and my eyes widened in pure horror. The SUV that had been following me all day stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and I quickly pressed myself against the pillar that shielded me away from their sight.

Shit.

I peeked over the edge to see who they were, and my body stiffened as three people dressed in all black stepped out the vehicle. Each of them had a hand behind their backs as their eyes scanned the place. Blood rushed to my head, and I leaned my back firmly against the concrete structure as my hand reached inside my bag. As soon as my fingers came in contact with the cold metal, I shut my eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Isn't it unfair that three hitmen are coming after a helpless girl?"

My eyes snapped open at Gray's voice.

He emerged from the pillar in front of me with his arms extended forward, and in that split second, a deafening crack of thunder filled the silence in the air. I winced at the sound and ducked my head under my hands, my bag falling to the ground.

Gray was already out of sight when I raised my head. The footsteps rushing in our direction grabbed my attention, and in a panic, I dropped to my knees and pulled out the knife from inside my bag, holding it out in front of me.

"Summer, run! Don't do any—"

Gray's warning was drowned out the second I saw one of the hitmen, and I jumped to my feet, stabbing him deep in the shoulder. The man let out a pained groan and attempted to push me back when he was kicked hard on the stomach by Gray, causing him to fall on his back.

Gray spared me a stern glance, his eyes cautioning me, before turning to the other men, who swung their fists at him. As Gray dodged their attacks and countered them with his own, I dashed across the parking lot away from the fight. The thunderous sound of another gunshot echoed in the air, and a gasp left my lips as I pressed both my hands to my ears, the bullet shattering the window of the car in front of me. Stunned, I looked over my shoulder and saw the hitman I stabbed walking towards me with a hammer in his hand.

My eyes caught onto the gun that was on the ground behind him, my eyebrows furrowing in realization.

These men weren't here to kill me.

The man advanced towards me, triggering my flight response. I bolted in the other direction, hoping to get as far away as possible.

I was at least a meter ahead when I was pulled roughly by the hair, a whimper leaving my lips as I reached behind me to grab hold of the man's arm.

"Fucking bitch!" he raged as he threw me down to the ground.

I landed on my right side, my arm receiving most of the impact. I hissed at the pain, my face scrunching. He swung the hammer far back, and I sucked in a breath, shielding my face with my arms in defense. Then a shot was fired, and the man's grip loosened, blood gushing out of his right shoulder. The hammer fell to the ground.

Behind him stood Gray with a gun, his eyes deadly, trained, and focused. I had never seen him like this before. He pulled the trigger once more, and the man's left shoulder jolted forward, a splatter of blood tainting my shirt. The man collapsed to his knees and fell face-first to the ground, the blood flowing out of his wounds.

I stared at him, my body unwilling to move.

Unasked for, the image of the woman from my nightmare flashed in my head, but it wasn't the frightening face from the previous time. Instead, it was a sweet, friendly one.

A pair of large hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up carefully. In a daze, I glanced around, finally aware of a few other men scattered in the area. Large hands cupped my face, and I raised my head to look at Gray.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

I opened my mouth, but no sound left me. Gray's eyes were intense. Exhaling, I showed him my right arm. He rolled up my sleeve, drawing in a breath when he saw the abrasion. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wrap my upper arm with it. I kept my eyes on his face the entire time as my heart gradually slowed to a steady rhythm.

"We need to have this treated," he said.

A man approached us. "We'll take care of this, Mr. Gray."

"Bring them to the warehouse," Gray ordered, his voice sharp. "And make sure that nothing about tonight gets leaked to the public."

The man nodded obediently and walked away.

"Warehouse?" I questioned.

Gray ignored me and lifted me into his arms, holding me close to his chest as if he didn't want to let me go. Then he strode to the other end of the parking lot, stopping in front of his Mercedes. He opened the door to the back seat and placed me down gently. Mr. John was in the driver's seat, watching me through the rearview mirror.

"Where are you going?" I asked Gray.

"I'll answer all your questions later." Gray focused his attention on Mr. John as his arm rested on the roof of the car. "Have her wound treated, then bring her to the villa."

He kissed my hair, then stood upright, shutting the door. I stared at him through the window as the car moved, watching as he disappeared in the distance.

Mr. John drove to the nearest hospital and helped me to the emergency room. We were there for half an hour as the nurse treated my wound. He was seated on a monoblock chair in front of me with his arms crossed, his attention on me the whole time.

I couldn't help but feel like a burden, and the feeling morphed into chaotic horror when I thought about where Gray was. I didn't know anything about a warehouse or if he was safe. The thought of him being somewhere out there with three hitmen, doing god knows what was scaring the shit out of me. A lot of possibilities could happen, and even if he had the upper hand, many things could still go wrong.

I stared into space, replaying the events of tonight. It was surreal, like a distant memory of a dream.

Gray's face appeared in my head as I shut my eyes. He looked different, unfamiliar. His eyes were dark and cold. His movements were fluid as he blocked and attacked those three hitmen. And his firm grip on the gun, perfect aim, and alertness hinted at a different kind of expertise.

That was the side of him he warned me about.