The small, dimly lit venue pulsed with raw energy. The Razor Blades were halfway through their set, Amanda Young gripping the microphone like it was her lifeline. Her voice tore through the room, jagged yet melodic, weaving its way through the crowd. Tonight’s song, “Drain the Blood,” wasn’t just a performance; it was an outlet. Her words weren’t searching for redemption—they were a firestorm of rage and anguish, a testament to how deeply broken she really was. Each note she belted out felt like it carved through the layers of anger she carried: at John Kramer for molding her into his twisted image, at herself for the lives she’d shattered, and at the world for letting her become what she had.
Amanda had changed. The years following John’s death had forced her to confront a harsh truth: survival wasn’t the same as living. Music became her escape, her way to scream into the void without expecting answers. The stage wasn’t about healing; it was about coping, about wrestling with the pieces of herself she couldn’t put back together. And no matter how much she screamed into the mic, some parts of her would always remain broken.
Amanda performed with a blindfold. It wasn’t a gimmick or a plea for attention—it was armor. The crowd was too much. When she looked out, she didn’t see fans or strangers; she saw ghosts. Faces of those she’d hurt, those she’d failed, those who had haunted her every step since Kramer’s death. The blindfold silenced the weight of their stares, letting her focus solely on the music and the rage she poured into it. But when the song ended, Amanda always removed the blindfold—and that was when she saw her.
Lynn Denlon.
Lynn was an anomaly in the chaos. She stood near the back, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a drink in hand that never seemed to meet her lips. Her eyes stayed fixed on Amanda, unreadable yet intense. She had become a fixture at Amanda’s shows, always in the shadows, as if tethered by some unspoken connection. Amanda’s chest tightened whenever she spotted her—a mix of guilt, curiosity, and something she couldn't put in words.
She’d tried to ignore her at first, chalking it up to coincidence. But Lynn kept showing up, week after week, always at the edge of the crowd. Amanda couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it curiosity? Revenge? Some perverse fascination with the person who had once strapped a shotgun collar to her neck? Amanda’s thoughts churned every time she spotted her, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the way Lynn’s lips curved slightly at the corners, or how her usually guarded posture seemed more relaxed. Maybe it was the way her eyes lingered just a second too long, as if silently calling Amanda to her.
Amanda could feel it—an electric shift in the air between them. It wasn’t just Lynn watching Amanda anymore; it was Amanda’s turn to stare back. She repeated the last lines of the song directly into the space Lynn occupied, her voice trembling with an emotion she didn't particularly enjoy. Lynn’s presence was choking her. For a fleeting second, Amanda wondered if Lynn was real or just another ghost from her past.
When the final note of their set faded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Amanda thanked them with a nod and a quick “See you next time,” before retreating backstage. Her bandmates were already chatting about their next gig, the energy of the performance still buzzing in the air. But Amanda’s focus was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake Lynn from her mind, that unreadable gaze, those questions she never asked but always seemed to carry.
It was time to face her ghost.
Slipping past the tangle of cables and amps, Amanda made her way to the main floor. The room was buzzing with post-show energy, fans clustering near the bar or lining up for merchandise. Amanda moved with purpose, her heavy boots thudding against the sticky floor. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say or do, but she knew she couldn’t keep avoiding Lynn forever.
Lynn noticed her immediately. Her posture straightened, but she didn’t move. Amanda stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure of what to say. This wasn’t a trap or a game. This was real, and the weight of that realization pressed down on her.
“You’ve been coming to a lot of these,” Amanda said finally, her voice lower than usual, almost hesitant.
Lynn raised an eyebrow, her expression calm but curious. “And you’ve noticed.”
Amanda smirked, the tension easing just a little. “Hard not to. You’re not exactly the usual crowd.”
Lynn’s lips twitched into a soft smile. “Maybe I like the music.”
“Maybe?” Amanda challenged, stepping closer.
Lynn’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. “Maybe I enjoy the chaos.”
Amanda’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing her face. “Chaos, huh? Could’ve gone to a hundred other places for that.”
Lynn tilted her head, her drink still untouched in her hand. “True, but none of them have you.”
Amanda’s stomach tightened, unsure whether the words were meant to compliment or cut. She took a step closer, her voice low. “And what’s so special about me?”
Lynn leaned against the bar, her gaze steady, deliberate. “You’re still standing.”
The words landed heavy between them, dredging up memories Amanda tried to bury. Her mind flashed to Lynn’s trembling form years ago, the shotgun collar, the blood, the screams. Amanda forced herself to meet Lynn’s eyes, searching for hatred, for revenge, for anything that would make sense.
“You’ve got guts, showing up here,” Amanda said, her tone sharper now. “Most people in your shoes would stay as far away as possible.”
Lynn’s lips twitched again, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Most people aren’t me.”
Amanda couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or a warning. Her heart hammered in her chest, a strange cocktail of anger and guilt. Familiar feelings she was always running from. “So, what is this, Lynn? A game? You trying to prove something?”
Lynn’s eyes darkened, and she straightened, her posture somehow suddenly sharper. “What do you think I’m trying to prove, Amanda?”
Amanda stepped back, caught off guard by the intensity of Lynn’s tone. Amanda stared for several beats looking into her dark eyes “I don’t know. That you’re not afraid of me? That you’ve moved on?”
Lynn let out a quiet laugh, cold and humorless. “Moved on? From what, exactly?”
The words cut deeper than Amanda expected, leaving her momentarily speechless. Lynn’s expression softened, but only slightly, as if she took some satisfaction in Amanda’s unease.
“I’ll tell you this much,” Lynn continued, her voice dropping lower. “I’m not here for forgiveness. And I’m not here to make peace.”
Amanda swallowed hard, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. “Then why are you here?”
Lynn leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I just want to see how far you’ll go when you can’t hide behind a blindfold.”
The challenge in her words sent a shiver down Amanda’s spine. For all her bravado on stage, Amanda felt like she was back in that room with the collar, the hopelessness, and the crushing weight of John Kramer’s judgment. She didn’t know what Lynn wanted, but it felt dangerous, like a game Amanda didn’t know the rules to.
Lynn pulled back, her enigmatic smile returning. Shoving her untouched cocktail in her hands “Enjoy your drink, Amanda. I’ll see you at the next show?”
And just like that, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd before Amanda could respond. Left alone, Amanda clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing. Whatever Lynn’s intentions were, Amanda knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t over yet.
Amanda stumbled into her dimly lit one-bedroom apartment, the silence made her nauseous. The post-show adrenaline had long since faded, replaced by a simmering anger and unease that gnawed at her insides. She kicked off her boots, letting them clatter to the floor, and collapsed onto the frayed couch. Her head dropped into her hands, and before she could stop herself, a sob wracked her body.
Tears rolled down her face, hot and relentless. She wasn’t even sure who or what she was crying for anymore. Herself? The people she’d hurt? Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. The frustration was unbearable. She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms, willing herself to stop. But the emotions wouldn’t relent, spilling over like a dam finally broken.
Lynn. Her name burned in Amanda’s mind. Why the hell was she showing up now? All those years ago, Amanda had strapped a shotgun collar around Lynn’s neck and nearly killed her. And after Kramer’s death, Amanda had assumed Lynn would want nothing to do with her. She had every right to hate her. To despise her. So why was she here now, week after week, watching from the shadows?
Amanda’s jaw tightened as a new wave of anger surged. She wanted to hunt Lynn down, grab her by the shoulders, and demand answers. What did she want? But Amanda knew better. That was the old her talking—the impulsive, destructive version that Kramer had nurtured. She couldn’t slip back into that. She wouldn’t. She had clawed her way out of that pit, and she wasn’t about to dive back in.
Her trembling fingers brushed against her lips, trailing over the faint scars etched into the corners of her mouth. The reverse bear trap. Even after all these years, the memory of that contraption—and the terror it instilled—was as sharp as ever. Her hand moved lower, tracing the thin white lines crisscrossing her inner arms, her self-inflicted scars. An urge still lingered, a shadow that never fully disappeared.
She closed her eyes, pressing her palms against the old wounds as if she could smother the craving. Bleeding had been a release, a way to quiet the storm in her head when the world became too much. And right now, it was too much. The anger, the guilt, the uncertainty about Lynn—it all swirled together in a maelstrom that threatened to pull her under.
“Get a grip,” she whispered to herself, her voice hoarse.
Amanda pushed herself off the couch, the motion sharp and sudden. She needed to move. Sitting here, drowning in her thoughts, would only make things worse. Grabbing her jacket, she stepped out into the night.
The city streets were eerily quiet, the air crisp with the faint promise of morning. Amanda walked with no destination in mind, her boots crunching against scattered leaves. She didn’t know how long she’d been walking, but the repetitive motion began to soothe her, the cool air biting her cheeks and clearing her head. The sun was starting to rise, streaks of orange and pink bleeding into the dark sky. Amanda stopped on a small hill overlooking the city, watching as the light crept over the horizon.
For a moment, the chaos inside her seemed to still. She took a deep breath, the crisp air filling her lungs, and let her eyes close. When she opened them again, the colors of the sunrise seemed sharper, more vivid. It was fleeting, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt something close to peace.
Then came a noise behind her.
Amanda barely had time to turn before something struck the back of her head. Pain exploded through her skull, and the world spun violently. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold ground. Darkness swallowed her before she could make sense of what was happening.
She woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of a heart monitor. Amanda blinked, her vision swimming as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. A hospital room. Harsh fluorescent lights glared down at her, making her head throb even more.
Her hand instinctively moved to her head, finding a bandage wrapped tightly around her scalp. She groaned, trying to sit up, but a sharp pain lanced through her body, forcing her back onto the bed.
“Easy,” a familiar voice said.
Amanda’s head snapped to the side, and there she was. Lynn Denlon. Sitting in the chair by the bed, arms crossed, her expression calm and unreadable.
“What…” Amanda’s voice came out rough, her throat dry. She swallowed hard and tried again. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Lynn raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into that faint, enigmatic smile that Amanda had come to hate and fear in equal measure. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Amanda’s hands clenched into fists. “Welcome for what?”
“For calling the ambulance. You were out cold on the side of the road. Someone had to make sure you didn’t bleed out.”
Amanda stared at her, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “Why were you even there? Were you following me?”
Lynn shrugged, her expression maddeningly casual. “Let’s just say I’m… invested.”
The room felt too small, the air too thin. Amanda’s pulse quickened, her mind racing. This wasn't a coincidence. Lynn being there, showing up at her shows, and now this? None of it was random. What did Lynn want from her?
“You’re fucking with me,” Amanda said, her voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury. “I don’t know what your goal is, but—”
Lynn leaned forward, cutting her off. Her gaze was sharp, piercing through Amanda like a scalpel. “You don’t know anything about me, Amanda. Not really. So maybe you should stop assuming.”
Amanda swallowed hard, the weight of Lynn’s words pressing down on her. She wanted to yell, to demand answers, but the look in Lynn’s eyes stopped her cold. There was something there—something dark and unsettling, yet impossible to look away from.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Finally, Lynn stood, smoothing her jacket. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”
And with that, she walked out, leaving Amanda alone with her thoughts. A few minutes after Lynn’s departure, the door creaked open again. A different doctor entered, holding a clipboard and wearing a careful neutral expression.
“You’re awake,” he said, glancing at her chart. “That’s good. How are you feeling?”
“Like someone took a sledgehammer to my head,” Amanda muttered, her tone sharp.
The doctor gave her a small, sympathetic smile. “You took a pretty nasty fall. Likely a concussion. We’re going to keep you here for observation for the next 24 hours, just to be safe.”
“Perfect,” Amanda replied dryly, sinking back into the pillows. She closed her eyes, but even in the quiet of the room, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Lynn wasn’t there, but Amanda could feel her, like a shadow lingering just out of sight. The thought sent a chill down her spine.
Pathetic, she thought bitterly. She used to be the predator, the one who controlled the game. A killer. And now? She was being toyed with by someone she had shown mercy to. Her stomach churned at the irony, anger and shame twisting into a tight knot inside her chest. Amanda turned her face to the side, her fingers brushing against the faint scars on her lips. She was still broken. Still haunted. And now, someone else has decided to exploit it. Amanda was not going to let that happen. Whatever Lynn had planned, it needed to end. She felt like a caged animal, and she needed out. Sitting in the sterile hospital room, the walls closing in on her, Amanda’s mind churned. Lynn was a brain surgeon—not someone who could reasonably keep tabs on her at all times. At least, that’s what Amanda hoped as she swung her legs off the side of the bed. Each step she took sent a spike of pain through her skull, the headache pounding like a relentless drum.
“Just walk out the door,” she muttered under her breath. That’s all she had to do. Leave. Disappear. Her band would be fine without her for a while, right? They’d understand. She needed space. She needed to figure out what was happening.
But as she shuffled toward the doorway, a darker thought clawed its way into her mind. What if she ended this? Right here, right now. Find Lynn somewhere and finish it all—the questions, the warnings, the games. A clean end. But the thought turned sour in her chest. She was being selfish. Maybe this was what she deserved after everything she’d done to her. To everyone. Maybe Lynn was right: she didn’t really know her. Amanda knew she would never be able to forget. She shook her head, trying to focus. The hallway stretched before her, cold and dimly lit, as she rounded the corner. She didn’t make it far before she froze.
Lynn was standing a few feet away, speaking quietly with someone—another doctor, judging by the scrubs. The conversation seemed casual, but Amanda’s stomach twisted when Lynn’s eyes flicked up and met hers. The expression on Lynn’s face shifted, an almost imperceptible warning flashing in her gaze. It wasn’t a challenge, but it wasn’t an invitation either. It was a silent plea, or maybe a dare, begging Amanda to try and leave.
Amanda’s breath caught, her chest tightening. The logical part of her brain screamed at her to turn around, to keep moving, but her feet felt rooted to the spot. Lynn’s calm, deliberate stare unnerved her in ways she couldn’t explain.
“Ma’am?”
The voice startled her, and Amanda turned to see a nurse standing nearby, her expression concerned.
“Why are you out of bed? You’re supposed to be resting,” the nurse said, stepping closer.
Amanda’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with an excuse, anything to avoid the reality of Lynn’s piercing gaze still locked on her.
“Bathroom,” Amanda finally mumbled weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The nurse tilted her head, unconvinced but not pressing the issue. “Alright, but let me help you back to your room when you’re done. You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”
Amanda nodded, her eyes darting back to Lynn. The other woman was still watching her, but her expression had softened, the warning replaced by something harder to read. Was it pity? Amusement? Amanda couldn’t tell, and that infuriated her even more.
The nurse guided her gently toward the bathroom, and Amanda let her, her mind spinning the entire time. She was trapped, and the worst part was, she didn’t even know if she wanted to escape. The thought clawed at her, leaving her feeling smaller and more broken than she had in years. She needed a plan. She needed clarity. Hours later she didn’t even look up when the door creaked open. Lynn’s presence filled the room before she spoke.
“Thanks for not leaving earlier,” Lynn said, her voice calm but carrying an edge Amanda couldn’t quite place.
Amanda’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “What do you want?” she demanded, her voice harsher than she intended. “Why did you follow me? Why did you hurt me just to drag me to a hospital? If you want me dead, you had your chance.”
Lynn stepped closer, her expression unreadable. She stopped at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. “I don’t want you dead, Amanda.”
Something about her tone made Amanda’s stomach twist. The calmness, the deliberate way Lynn said those words—it was infuriating. Amanda stood abruptly, swaying slightly as dizziness threatened to pull her back down. She caught herself on the edge of the bed, then moved forward, closing the space between them. Without thinking, she grabbed Lynn by the shoulders, her grip tight and trembling with anger.
“You know who I am, right?” Amanda hissed, her face inches from Lynn’s. “What I’ve done? I could kill you.”
“Yes,” Lynn replied, her voice steady. “You could.”
The simplicity of the statement made Amanda freeze. There was no fear in Lynn’s eyes, only something that looked almost like resolve.
“But you didn’t,” Lynn continued, her voice softening just slightly. “And I’m not even sure why I’m doing this, Amanda. But ever since everything happened… I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.”
Amanda’s grip loosened, but she didn’t step back. “What are you talking about?”
Lynn’s expression darkened, her eyes boring into Amanda’s. “I want you-” She stopped herself “I want you to understand. You can't escape me”
Amanda’s chest tightened, a sharp pang of guilt and anger cutting through her. She let go of Lynn abruptly, stepping back as if burned. Her hands were shaking, and she clenched them into fists to steady herself.
“Is that it?” Amanda spat. “This is revenge?”
Lynn shook her head, but there was a flicker of something darker in her eyes. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t have all the answers, Amanda. But I couldn’t just go back to my life and pretend like nothing happened. You shattered it.” Amanda stared at her, the words sinking deeper than she expected. For a long moment, the two women stood in silence, the tension between them suffocating. Finally, Lynn took a step back, her gaze softening just slightly.
“You should rest,” Lynn said, her voice low. “I’ll leave you alone” Amanda didn't believe her for a second.
Amanda had been wrong. Lynn did leave her alone. After the confrontation in the hospital, she was discharged and back on the streets in no time. She rubbed the back of her head, feeling the deep, stitched-up wound. The sensation was oddly satisfying, a dull, gross kind of pleasure. She liked the pain—or maybe she just deserved it.
Her days blurred together, dull and lifeless. Her band rehearsed. She ate. She slept. The monotony was unbearable, and no matter what she did, her thoughts always circled back to Lynn. Why had she done it? Why bring her to the hospital? Why follow her only to leave again? Should she run away? Should she face her problems? The indecision gnawed at her, and Amanda hated it.
One thing was certain: her band had a gig Friday night. And though she hated to admit it, part of her wondered if Lynn would show up again. A small, infuriating part of her wanted her to. She couldn’t explain why. Friday night came quickly. The venue was packed, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Amanda stood backstage, the rest of the band getting ready. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the blindfold she always wore on stage. Before she put it on, she scanned the crowd, searching. But Lynn wasn’t there. No shadowy figure lurking at the back. No piercing eyes cutting through the chaos. A pang of frustration shot through Amanda’s chest, but she quickly shoved it down, slipping the blindfold over her eyes.
The music started, and Amanda let herself go. The familiar weight of the blindfold dulled the crowd, reducing them to shadows and noise. Her voice tore through the air, jagged and raw. Inside the cage of her performance, she unleashed a rage that felt almost spiritual. Every word, every note, was a purge. The crowd roared, feeding off her energy, but Amanda barely noticed. She was somewhere else, lost in the music and her emotions.
As the final song ended, Amanda ripped the blindfold off. The crowd’s cheers echoed in her ears, but she didn’t bother looking at them. She needed air. Without a word to her bandmates, she headed for the exit, the noise of the venue fading behind her. The night air was cool and crisp, cutting through the lingering heat of the performance. Amanda leaned against the wall, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She closed her eyes, letting the quiet seep into her. The brief calm was interrupted by a soft, syrupy voice.
"Hey, killer set tonight," a young woman purred as she approached. Dressed in tight leather and wearing an eager grin, the groupie’s eyes sparkled with intent. She stepped closer, invading Amanda’s space. "You got time to hang out? I’ve been to all your shows, and… well, I was hoping we could, you know, get to know each other better?" She said it like a question but it felt more like a demand. Pathetic.
Amanda’s first instinct was to brush her off, but the woman was persistent, trailing a finger along Amanda’s arm. Amanda tensed, discomfort prickling her skin. She opened her mouth to respond, but another voice cut in sharply.
"She’s not interested," Lynn said, her tone cold and cutting as she appeared out of nowhere. Her piercing gaze shifted to the groupie, her expression a mixture of disdain and dominance.
The groupie blinked, startled, then huffed. "Excuse me? Who are you?"
Lynn took a step forward, her presence commanding. "The person you’re interrupting."
The groupie glanced between them, muttering under her breath before turning away, her heels clicking against the pavement. Amanda stared at Lynn, her frustration bubbling over.
"What the hell was that?" Amanda snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.
Lynn crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "You didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself. I was just helping."
Amanda’s jaw tightened. "I didn’t need your help."
Lynn took a step closer, her calm composure unshaken. "No, but I think you needed me to show up." Her gaze lingered on Amanda, softening ever so slightly. "Am I wrong Amanda?."
The words hit her like a jolt. She blinked, unsure how to respond, the frustration in her chest twisting into something else— Lynn’s lips curled into a faint, almost wicked smile, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur. " I know you can't stop thinking about me. Everything about you—your fire, your anger, the way you fight even when there’s no reason to. You don’t know how to back down. It’s intoxicating."
Amanda’s stomach churned, her anger bubbling up again. "You don't know how I feel. I was actually hoping you wouldn't show up and take the hint" It was a lie but she didn't care. Amanda continued without thinking. “Whatever happened between us ended a long time ago. You can't control me and if you keep poking the bear you are gonna end up hurt again.”
Lynn tilted her head, her gaze piercing. "Control you? Amanda, I couldn’t control you if I wanted to. That’s what makes you so…” Lynn stopped herself again “I can’t seem to stay away."
Before Amanda could respond, Lynn reached out, her hand brushing against Amanda’s arm. The touch was light, hesitant, but it sent a shiver through Amanda’s entire body. Unlike when the other woman had touched her- her heart started racing. This quickly frustrated her and she felt her anger grow again, unable to process how fucked this situation had become.
"Stop messing with me," Amanda seethed, grabbing Lynn by the wrist with a roughness that surprised even herself. "You are so sick in the head Lynn you don't even know what you are doing right now do you I should really-"
"Kill me?" Lynn finished, her voice calm, almost daring. "You could. But you won’t."
Amanda’s grip tightened, but her resolve faltered. Lynn’s eyes burned with something Amanda couldn’t name—a hunger, a challenge, a need. Before she could think, before she could stop herself, Amanda’s lips crashed against Lynn’s in a desperate, angry kiss.
Lynn didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into it, her hands finding Amanda’s waist. Amanda felt her own heart hammering, a mixture of rage and confusion and something that felt like surrender. When they finally broke apart, Amanda was breathing hard, her eyes wide with shock. Lynn, however, seemed unbothered, her expression unreadable except for the faintest flicker of satisfaction. Amanda could not believe she had done that.
Amanda followed Lynn like she was being led to the gallows. There was no real choice in her steps, only a mechanical forward motion. Lynn’s grip on her wrist was tight, just a little too tight, and Amanda knew there would be bruises by morning. The pain was a faint echo, a whisper of sensation, but it grounded her in the surreal moment she couldn’t quite escape.
They walked in silence, the night air brushing against Amanda’s flushed skin. Lynn didn’t speak, didn’t turn to look at her, but there was something in her stride that spoke volumes. Amanda couldn’t shake the look in Lynn’s eyes—the sharp, sadistic gleam that was equal parts hunger and control. It was terrifying, and it was addictive.
Amanda felt her anger bubbling up again, clashing with the strange pull she couldn’t deny. She wanted to fight back, to yank her arm free, but she didn’t. Instead, she let herself be pulled along, like a puppet on invisible strings. Her breath came shallow, her chest tightening with every step, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
Lynn finally stopped at the door to an unmarked building, glancing back at Amanda for the first time. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes burned with intensity. She pushed the door open without a word, leading Amanda into the dark room. It was quiet inside, the air heavy with something Amanda couldn’t name. Lynn let go of her wrist, and Amanda immediately rubbed at the tender skin, her frustration building.
"You enjoy this, don’t you?" Amanda said, her voice low and sharp. "Dragging me around like a damn dog on a leash."
Lynn turned to face her, a faint smile playing at her lips. "You’re here, aren’t you?"
Amanda clenched her fists, her heart pounding in her chest. "You think you can control me? You’re no better than—"
Lynn stepped closer, cutting her off with the sheer force of her presence. "No better than who, Amanda? You?" Her voice was a low murmur, but it carried an edge that sent a shiver down Amanda’s spine. "You think I’m trying to control you? If I were, you wouldn’t have followed me."
Amanda opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. Lynn was too close now, her breath warm against Amanda’s skin. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and Amanda felt herself unraveling, piece by piece.
"You don’t get it," Amanda finally said, her voice trembling with frustration. "You’re playing a game you don’t understand."
Lynn tilted her head, her gaze softening in a way that was almost cruel. "Oh, I understand perfectly," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You hate how much you want this. How much you want me. It scares you, doesn’t it?"
Amanda’s fists unclenched, her resolve slipping through her fingers. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," she said weakly, the words lacking conviction.
Lynn reached up, her fingers brushing against Amanda’s cheek. The touch was featherlight, but it burned like fire. "I know more than you think," Lynn whispered. "I've been watching you for a long time and I know that right now, you’re exactly where you want to be."
Amanda didn’t resist when Lynn leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both fierce and desperate. There was no gentleness in it, only raw emotion, anger, and something darker that neither of them wanted to name. Amanda’s hands found Lynn’s waist, pulling her closer even as her mind screamed at her to stop.
The kiss deepened, their movements frantic and unrestrained. Lynn’s hands gripped Amanda’s shoulders, pulling her down onto the couch in the corner of the room. Amanda felt her head spinning, her body responding to Lynn’s touch despite the chaos in her mind.
Lynn’s voice broke through the haze, low and commanding. "Let go, Amanda," she said, her lips brushing against Amanda’s ear. "For now, just let go."
And Amanda did. She surrendered to the moment, to the fire burning between them, to the dark, twisted connection that neither of them could deny. It wasn’t love, and it wasn’t hate—it was something far more dangerous. Something that tethered them to each other, whether they wanted it or not.
Lynn grabbed at her hair just as Amanda began to lose herself completely in the moment, Lynn’s demeanor shifted. Her hands moved, one threading through Amanda’s hair with surprising force. She yanked Amanda’s head back, her voice low and sharp. "You’re going to listen to me now," Lynn said, her words cutting through the haze like a blade.
Amanda’s breath hitched as she felt herself pushed downward, her knees hitting the floor. Lynn stood over her, her eyes gleaming with something dark and unrelenting. It was a power Amanda recognized—because it used to be hers.
"Amanda," Lynn murmured, her tone softening but not losing its edge, "I need you to understand. You can’t run away."
Amanda looked up at her, her chest heaving. "What do you want from me?" she managed, her voice trembling.
Lynn crouched down, her fingers brushing Amanda’s jaw. "I followed you that night," she said, her voice eerily calm. "When I saw you sitting on the outskirts of the city, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t let you leave me. I won’t let you forget, Amanda. You’re going to listen to me now."
Amanda’s body tensed, but her resolve crumbled under Lynn’s unyielding gaze. There was no fighting this. No fighting her. "Okay," Amanda whispered, the word barely audible.
Lynn’s smile was faint but satisfied as she leaned closer, her breath warm against Amanda’s lips. "Good."
Amanda felt the last threads of resistance snap as she surrendered to the moment. Lynn had taken back her power, and Amanda realized, with a mix of dread and relief, that she couldn’t stop this sick turn of events. Perhaps she didn’t even want to.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, a collision of passion and pain that neither of them tried to escape. When it was over, they lay in silence, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. Amanda’s wrist throbbed, her body aching, but she didn’t care. For the first time in what felt like years, she wasn’t running. She wasn’t fighting.
She was exactly where she wanted to be.