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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 43
Ghosts of the PastPain.That was the first thing I felt.A sharp, splitting ache buried deep in my skull, like something was trying to claw its way out. I pressed my palm against my temple, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts. The room swayed, and the cold warehouse walls around me blurred at the edges.I was losing control.Again."Hey." Riley's voice was distant, muffled, like she was speaking through water. I barely registered the hand she placed on my arm. "Nathan, what’s wrong?"I jerked away before I could stop myself, my pulse hammering against my ribs. My vision swam, flashes of light and shadow twisting in my mind. The headache grew worse, splitting into something deeper—something not entirely physical.Memories.They were coming back.Unbidden, unwanted, unraveling like threads torn from a tapestry.And I had no idea how to stop them."Talk to me," Riley urged, stepping in front of me. I could feel her eyes on me, searching for answers I didn’t have. "Nathan, what is i
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 44
Lies & Half-TruthsRiley was watching me again.She thought I didn’t notice, but I did. Every flicker of hesitation. Every moment she glanced away when I caught her staring. The way she bit the inside of her cheek when she thought too hard about something.Something she wasn’t telling me.The safe house was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic outside. It was one of Julian’s old boltholes—underground, reinforced, built for people who didn’t want to be found. People like us.Riley sat across the room, her back against the wall, legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them. She looked small like that. Almost vulnerable. But I knew better.She was a storm waiting to break.I exhaled slowly, setting my gun down on the table between us. "You’re thinking too loud."She blinked, her brows pulling together. "What?""You’re staring," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Either you like what you see, or you’re debating whether or not to put a bullet in me."Her lips twitched, but the smile didn
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 45
The Missing Puzzle PieceThe message came at dawn. A single phrase scrawled on the back of a torn playing card, slipped under the door of our safe house.One last shot. Meet us.Riley saw it before I did. She didn’t say anything, just held it between her fingers like it was a live wire. Her expression was unreadable, but I knew her well enough by now to recognize hesitation when I saw it.I took the card from her, running my thumb over the rough edges. The Resistance.“They finally decided to crawl out of the shadows,” I muttered.Riley crossed her arms. “You think it’s real?”I glanced at her. “They wouldn’t have reached out if they didn’t need me.”Her lips pressed together. “Or they’re setting you up.”“Could be.” I flicked the card onto the table. “But if they are, they just made a mistake.”She studied me, tension thrumming in the air between us. I could see the battle waging in her eyes—trust, doubt, maybe even guilt. I still wasn’t sure where we stood after last night.Did I tr
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 46
A Dangerous DealSomething was off.I could feel it in the way Riley moved—calculated, careful. In the way her eyes flickered toward mine when she thought I wasn’t looking, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.She was hiding something.And I had learned the hard way that secrets could kill.We were holed up in a nameless motel on the outskirts of the city, waiting for Davis’s next move. The place smelled like old cigarette smoke and bad decisions. The walls were thin, the neon light outside flickering like it couldn’t decide whether to die or fight.Riley sat on the edge of the bed, her back to me, lacing up her boots.“You’re going somewhere,” I said.She hesitated. A fraction of a second too long.“Just getting some air.”I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Try again.”She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. “Nathan—”I pushed off the wall. “You’re meeting someone.”Her shoulders tensed.That was all the confirmation I needed.I walked to her, slow and del
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 47
The CapturePain explodes through my skull before I even understand what’s happening. A brutal force slams into my side, knocking the air from my lungs. My knees buckle as I hit the cold, unforgiving ground. A boot presses against my ribs, pinning me down.Voices blur around me—low, commanding tones. I taste blood. My pulse hammers in my ears, each beat a warning that I don’t have time to process.Move. Fight back. Do something.I twist, trying to get a hand under me, but another blow crushes into my stomach. The world tilts as I gasp for breath. Rough hands yank my arms behind me, securing them with something cold and unyielding—steel.Handcuffs."Stay down, Nathan," a voice murmurs, amused. "Wouldn't want to make this harder than it has to be."Familiar. Too familiar.I lift my head, my vision swimming. A figure crouches beside me, smirking. Mason. One of Julian’s most loyal enforcers. His dark eyes gleam with satisfaction."You look surprised," he says. "Thought you were smarter th
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 48
The Ultimate QuestionJulian watches me, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He knows he has me cornered. I can feel the weight of his presence pressing against my skin, his patience coiling like a predator waiting to strike."You’ve been searching for the truth, haven’t you?" he muses, stepping closer. "Desperate to understand why things never quite added up. Why your past feels like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces."I keep my face blank, but my pulse betrays me, thudding against my ribs. I don’t trust Julian—not for a damn second—but he’s not wrong. The gaps in my memory, the whispers of something lost, the questions that claw at me in the dead of night... they’ve haunted me for too long.Julian smiles like he can hear my thoughts. "What if I told you the person responsible for all of that… was you?"My stomach tightens. "You’re lying."He laughs softly, shaking his head. "Nathan, Nathan… I never lie. You, on the other hand? You were a master of deception. Even to yourself."I grit
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 49
The Last BetrayalI stare at Julian, the weight of his ultimatum pressing down on me like a vice. His expression remains composed, but I see the flicker of confidence in his eyes—he thinks he’s already won. That I’ll give in, just like he planned.He’s wrong.I take a slow step forward, watching his smirk deepen. My voice is steady when I speak. “I choose neither.”Julian’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before he regains his mask. “Excuse me?”I cross my arms, the tension in my chest turning into something sharper—determination. “I don’t trust you. Not with my past, not with my memories, and sure as hell not with my future.” I tilt my head, studying him. “You expect me to believe you’re just handing me the truth out of the goodness of your heart?”Julian chuckles, slow and measured. “Nathan, I don’t believe in goodness.” His voice drops to something almost affectionate. “But I do believe in leverage.”I hold my ground. “That’s exactly why I won’t play your game.”The shift
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 50
The Final StandGunfire shreds the silence, tearing through the walls as Riley and I dive behind cover. The room is a warzone—bullets ricocheting, smoke curling in the air, the scent of gunpowder thick in my lungs. My pulse hammers in my ears, each beat counting down to our last breath if we don’t find a way out.Riley reloads, her movements sharp, controlled—her mask slipping back into place even as her hands shake. “We’re surrounded.”I risk a glance over the overturned table shielding us. Black-clad operatives fan out, moving with precision. Julian’s personal soldiers.Figures. He always did like playing with his own pieces on the board.My jaw clenches. “Not for long.”I twist out of cover, firing two shots. One drops an enemy instantly. The other staggers but keeps moving, armored vest absorbing the impact. Damn it.Riley curses under her breath and fires beside me, her bullets finding a weak spot between plates. The second soldier collapses. “We need an exit.”“No kidding.”Ther
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 220
The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
CHAPTER 219
The End of the LineThe city is quiet. Too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace, but the kind that signals something is about to break. It settles over the skyline, heavy, waiting. The streets are empty, but the ghosts of what I’ve built, of what I’ve destroyed, linger in the alleyways and shadowed corners.I stand at the edge of it all, watching from the rooftop of an old high-rise, the cold wind whipping against my face. Below me, the pieces are moving, each player stepping into position, some thinking they’re the ones holding the strings. They aren’t.They never were.Jackson shifts beside me, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He’s restless. Always is before things go south.“You sure about this?” he asks.I don’t answer right away. Because there’s no easy answer. No right one, either.He sighs, shaking his head. “You always do this. Get in too deep and think you can control every variable. But this—” he gestures to the streets below, to the quiet before the storm
CHAPTER 218
The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
CHAPTER 217
The Final CrossroadsThe city hums beneath me, restless and alive. From this rooftop, I see everything—the neon glow stretching into the horizon, the winding streets below, the fractured heartbeat of a place that never stops moving. A world of light and shadow, built on secrets, power, and debts that can never truly be repaid.The air is thick with the scent of rain and asphalt, the faintest trace of gasoline lingering in the wind. It’s the smell of something on the verge of combustion, of a city always teetering on the edge of chaos. I tighten my grip on the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ember glow in the dark, a tiny heartbeat against the cold night. I don’t smoke. Not really. I just like the way it feels—holding something that’s burning, something that’s alive for just a little while before it fades into nothing.I should walk away.I should let it all burn.But I don’t.Because no matter how much I tell myself that I don’t care anymore, that none of it matters, the tr
CHAPTER 216
The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
CHAPTER 214
The Last WarningThe city breathes differently when men like Ronan step into power.It’s a slow shift, subtle. The same streets, the same lights flickering over cracked pavement, the same late-night murmurs of business and betrayal. But there’s a tension now, a new weight pressing down like the first signs of a storm.I know it because I’ve felt it before. I did it before.Which is why I know exactly how this ends.---I picked the place. Neutral ground. A quiet, high-end bar tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind where power plays out in whispered deals and expensive whiskey. A place where men like Ronan feel at home.I sit in a booth at the far end, back to the wall, watching the entrance. He’s late. Not long enough to be disrespectful, just enough to establish control. Classic move.When he finally steps inside, he moves like he owns the place.Not in the way Cormac did, with brute force and intimidation. No, Ronan is more refined. His presence doesn’t demand attention—it i
CHAPTER 213
The New ProtégéThe city doesn’t rest, and neither do the people hungry for its power.Cormac is gone. Locked away, his empire dismantled, his influence reduced to nothing but whispers in the dark. And yet, before the dust has even settled, another one steps forward. It always happens this way.A cycle. A curse.I watch from the rooftop as the meeting below unfolds. A dozen figures sit around a long table in a high-rise suite, their silhouettes blurred by tinted windows. But it’s the one at the head of the table that has my full attention.Young. Too young.Sharp suit, sharper eyes. He moves like he owns the room—because he does. The way they lean in when he speaks, the way they nod, hesitant but obedient. He’s already in control.He reminds me of someone.Me.I exhale slowly, pressing my earpiece. "Evelyn, you getting this?"Her voice crackles through. "Loud and clear. Looks like we found our new kingpin."I don’t respond right away, just watch as he steeples his fingers, listening i
CHAPTER 212
The War That Never EndsThe Oath had fallen, but the world didn’t change. Not really.Power is a living thing—it doesn’t disappear; it mutates. It slithers, molds itself into new hands, new faces, new kings and queens who claim they’ll do better. I watch from the shadows as history repeats itself, over and over, like a bad song stuck on a loop.I blend into the dimly lit alleyway, my coat pulled tight against the cold bite of the city. Rain drips from the rusted gutters, forming puddles at my feet, but I barely notice. Across the street, men shake hands under the glow of a flickering street lamp, sealing deals in the same way their predecessors did—with quiet, well-dressed ruthlessness. Different players, same game.I should walk away.I promised myself I would.But ghosts don’t rest easy, and the ones I carry are especially loud.A gust of wind blows through the alley, ruffling my hair as I step back into the shadows. My ribs still ache from my last fight, and my knuckles are a canva
