Chapter 31: Echoes Of the Night
**Rose’s POV**
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling while the clock on my bedside table ticked away the minutes.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
I turned onto my side.
Then onto my back again.
Sleep wasn’t happening.
"...Seriously?"
I let out a long sigh and shut my eyes anyway.
The moment I did—
**Bang.**
My eyes flew open.
For a split second, I wasn’t in my room anymore.
I was back in that private office, watching Reagan’s hands slam onto the table hard enough to send the glasses rattling.
The sound echoed through my head just as clearly as it had earlier.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Enough to make me jump all over again.
I sat up and rubbed both hands over my face.
"Get over it, Rose."
It was just a table.
He hadn’t touched me.
He hadn’t yelled at me.
So why couldn’t I stop thinking about it?
With a groan, I fell back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
"You’re being ridiculous."
He was the one who’d lost his temper.
Not me.
So why was I the one lying awake?
I pulled the blanket over my face, hoping it’d somehow shut my brain off.
It didn’t.
Because the more I thought about it...
The stranger the whole thing felt.
Reagan was...
Well, Reagan.
Annoying.
Cocky.
Completely full of himself.
No matter how much we argued—and we argued a lot—he always had some stupid smirk or sarcastic comment ready.
Tonight...
There’d been none of that.
No teasing.
No smug grin.
Just silence.
Long, uncomfortable silence that made me feel uneasy before he’d even said a word.
I frowned into the blanket.
"...What was wrong with you?"
The question slipped out before I realized I’d spoken.
Slowly, I lowered the blanket again.
I couldn’t stop seeing the way he’d looked at me.
He’d been angry.
There was no denying that.
But it hadn’t felt like I was the reason.
It was like I’d walked into the middle of something that had started hours before I got there.
I squeezed my eyes shut again.
Another memory surfaced.
*"I watched a man lose pieces of himself all afternoon."*
A chill crept down my spine.
He’d said it so calmly.
Not proudly.
Not regretfully.
Just...
Empty.
Like he’d run out of whatever emotions normal people were supposed to have.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.
"This is exactly why I try not to think about you."
Nothing about him ever made sense.
One minute I wanted to hit him.
The next...
I was worried about him.
I hated that.
Rolling onto my other side, I hugged the pillow tighter.
Tonight was supposed to be fun.
I’d almost stayed home.
If it hadn’t been for the girl I’d gone with practically dragging me out of the house, I probably would’ve.
*"You’ve been cooped up all week."*
*"Come on, Rose."*
*"One night won’t kill you."*
Eventually, I’d given in.
And honestly...
For a while, it had been nice.
The music.
The lights.
Laughing over absolutely nothing.
I’d almost forgotten everything else.
Until...
The balcony.
I could still remember following my friend’s trembling finger upward.
At first, I’d smiled.
Then I’d seen him.
One look at Reagan’s face and my smile had disappeared.
At the time, I’d thought he was angry because I’d come to a nightclub.
Now...
I wasn’t so sure.
He’d said three men had been watching me.
One of them had almost reached me.
I frowned.
I genuinely hadn’t noticed.
Not one of them.
Thinking back, I remembered people suddenly backing away.
Conversations stopping.
The atmosphere around us changing for reasons I couldn’t explain.
I’d assumed someone important had walked in.
Instead...
They’d all been looking at him.
A slow breath escaped me.
"So you weren’t imagining it..."
For the first time since leaving the club, I wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there.
The thought sat heavily in my stomach.
Not because I believed something terrible definitely would’ve happened...
But because I hadn’t even realized someone was that close.
He had.
A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.
"Rose?"
"...Yeah?"
The door opened just enough for Mom to peek inside.
She smiled when she saw me sitting up.
"I had a feeling you’d still be awake."
I gave a sheepish smile.
"Couldn’t sleep."
She looked at me for a second.
"You’ve been awfully quiet since you got home."
"I’m just tired."
"Mhm."
That little hum told me she didn’t believe me.
She stepped into the room anyway, walked over to the side of my bed, and brushed a few strands of hair away from my face.
"Long night?"
"...You could say that."
She smiled softly.
"Well, don’t stay up thinking too much."
"I’ll try."
"I know you will."
She leaned down and kissed my forehead before heading back toward the door.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Night, Mom."
The door clicked shut.
The room was quiet again.
I let out a slow breath and fell back onto the mattress.
"So much for not thinking..."
I stared at the ceiling.
The more I told myself to forget tonight...
The more my mind refused to cooperate.
I kept seeing his face.
Not when he slammed the table.
After.
When he’d realized he’d scared me.
That expression...
I’d never seen it before.
It wasn’t guilt exactly.
It wasn’t regret either.
It was almost like he’d been angry with himself.
I frowned.
"...What happened to you?"
No answer.
Just the steady ticking of the clock.
Maybe his interrogation really had been that bad.
Maybe something else had happened before I got there.
Whatever it was...
It had followed him into that room.
I hugged my pillow tighter.
"I still don’t get you."
One minute I wanted to throw something at him.
The next...
I was wondering whether he’d eaten.
I groaned into the pillow.
"You’re hopeless, Rose."
No.
He was hopeless.
Completely impossible.
Who drags someone into a private room, scares them half to death...
Then apologizes like they actually feel bad about it?
Reagan.
Apparently.
A laugh escaped me despite myself.
"...You’re insane."
I closed my eyes again.
This time, another memory surfaced.
*"Three men stopped what they were doing just to watch you."*
*"The third got close enough to touch you."*
I hadn’t believed him at first.
But thinking back...
People had started moving away.
The atmosphere had changed.
I’d been too busy laughing with my friend to notice.
He hadn’t.
My smile slowly faded.
"...I really didn’t see them."
That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
Not because I thought something definitely would’ve happened...
But because I hadn’t even realized someone had gotten that close.
He had.
I rolled onto my side and reached for my phone, mostly to check the time.
11:48 p.m.
Too late to be overthinking.
Too late to be replaying conversations.
Too late to be thinking about Reagan.
I locked the screen again and set it back down.
"Tomorrow," I whispered.
"I’ll forget about today."
My phone vibrated.
I frowned.
Who would be texting me this late?
The screen lit up.
One new message.
I reached over absentmindedly.
Then stopped.
**Reagan.**
"...You’ve got to be kidding me."
For a few seconds, I simply stared at his name.
I should ignore it.
That would be the sensible thing to do.
Instead...
I opened it.
One word.
**Home?**
I blinked.
That was it.
No greeting.
No explanation.
Just...
**Home?**
I couldn’t help it.
I laughed.
"...You’re unbelievable."
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second before I finally typed.
**Yes.**
I pressed send.
Barely half a minute later, my phone vibrated again.
Another message.
**Good.**
I stared at the screen.
That was all.
No "goodnight."
No explanation.
Nothing.
Just...
**Good.**
I shook my head, laughing quietly to myself.
"...You’re still insane."
But somehow...
Knowing he’d been checking whether I’d gotten home safely made the knot in my chest loosen.
Just a little.
I placed the phone back on the bedside table, pulled the blanket up to my shoulders, and closed my eyes.
This time...
Sleep came a little easier.