Chapter 4 - The Wake Up Call

The kettle hissed just before it clicked off.

Dwayne stood barefoot in his kitchen, staring at the rising steam like it held answers. He dipped a honey ginger tea bag into the mug and poured hot water over it, watching the color deepen with each steep. Calm on the outside, chaos brewing underneath.

His phone buzzed again.

Then again.

The screen lit up with notifications, emails, missed calls, calendar pings, all from people who didn’t understand what time off meant. He flipped it face-down on the marble counter and took a long breath through his nose.

No more pretending he was fine.

He hadn’t gone in to work all week. Told the team he needed space to recalibrate, which was the truth, just not the whole truth.

The doorbell rang.

He didn’t move right away.

Then a second buzz. Short, familiar.

Only one person used the doorbell and the security code.

Marcus.

By the time Dwayne opened the front door, Marcus was already stepping inside like he owned the place. Six-foot-two with a build that filled doorways, Marcus had the casual confidence of someone who'd been the cool kid in every room since third grade and never stopped reminding you. Designer sneakers, perfectly fitted joggers, a black bomber jacket that looked fresh off a music video set. His fade was sharp, beard trimmed with near-surgical precision. He wore dark lenses indoors like they came standard with his personality.

“You really ghosted us,” Marcus said, pulling off his shades.

His eyes were a deep brown, always scanning, always calculating, even when he joked. Especially then.

Dwayne nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ve been… resetting.”

Marcus raised a brow as they walked in. “That what we’re calling spiraling now?”

“I’m not spiraling,” Dwayne muttered, heading back to the kettle.

“You’re drinking tea in silence, ignoring everyone, and wearing that hoodie like it’s emotional armor. You’re definitely spiraling.”

Dwayne didn’t answer. He poured hot water into the next mug, slid it across the island, and leaned on his elbows.

“I needed time,” he said. “Still do.”

“You know you’re rich, right?” Marcus sniffed the tea and frowned. “You could spiral in Tulum.”

“I didn’t feel like running.”

Silence stretched between them for a beat. The air buzzed with unspoken things.

Marcus set the tea down and finally said, “Is this about Sienna… or the therapist?”

Dwayne looked up slowly.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Marcus took a sip of the tea, grimaced, and pushed it aside. “This stuff tastes like sadness and grass.”

Dwayne managed the faintest smile.

Marcus leaned on the counter, watching him for a beat, tone shifting. “You remember senior year? After that fight behind the cafeteria?”

Dwayne blinked. “The one with that senior from Kennedy?”

“Yeah.” Marcus let out a breath. “That was the closest I ever came to getting expelled.”

Dwayne finally looked up. The memory was sharp, the yelling, the blood, the rumors.

“He sucker-punched me, but I swung back. Security pulled us both, but he ended up in the nurse’s office. I looked like the aggressor.”

“They had footage,” Dwayne said quietly.

“Exactly.” Marcus stared at him. “You remember what you did?”

Dwayne’s jaw clenched. “Yeah.”

Marcus chuckled, but it wasn’t light. “You broke into the admin building after hours. Plugged into the mainframe like some kind of Mission Impossible thing. You deleted the footage.”

“I copied it first,” Dwayne muttered. “Put it on a drive. Just in case.”

“You wiped every trace of that fight,” Marcus said. “Told me not to say a word. Next morning, there was ‘no conclusive evidence.’ They let it go.”

He paused, watching Dwayne’s face.

“You could’ve gotten expelled too. You were the valedictorian. Full ride to MIT on the line. And you risked all that for me.”

“I didn’t see it as a risk,” Dwayne said. “I saw it as necessary.”

Marcus leaned back, shaking his head. “I’ve never forgotten that, man. Not once. You broke the rules, bent your own moral code, because you believed I was worth protecting.”

The silence between them was heavier now. But warmer too. Real.

“So now,” Marcus continued, softer, “when you’re sitting here, clearly hurting, shutting everyone out, looking lost, I just want you to remember, I’ve seen you make impossible choices before. And I still trust your heart. I’m not going anywhere, bro. I’m here. Whatever this is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Dwayne stared into the mug, the tea long gone cold. His throat tightened, words rising like a tide he’d been trying to hold back for days.

“I messed up,” he said finally, voice low.

Marcus didn’t move. Just waited.

“I crossed a line I never should’ve crossed. And Sienna knows,” Dwayne continued.

“Sienna being in my life, the timing… the way she just showed up like it was fate?” Dwayne shook his head. “It wasn’t fate. It was planned.”

Marcus’s face darkened. “You’re saying she did all this on purpose?”

“I’m saying I was her target from the start,” Dwayne said. “She studied me. Got close. Waited for the right moment to make a move.”

Marcus leaned forward, voice low. “Why?”

Dwayne didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened.

“I don’t know. Not fully. Whatever this is, whatever game she’s playing, she’s been playing it longer than I realized.”

Marcus was quiet, his mind clearly racing.

“You think someone’s behind her?”

Dwayne nodded slowly. “It feels bigger than just her.”

Marcus stood and started pacing, his usual cool shaken. “All right. Okay. Then we figure it out. We start from the beginning, when she came back into your life. Everything. Every text, every moment. We find the pattern.”

Dwayne looked up. “You believe me?”

Marcus stopped pacing. “You saved me once by breaking the rules. You think I’m not about to do the same for you?”

Dwayne watched Marcus pace, watched the loyalty written all over his face, the kind of blind faith that made you feel safe even when you knew you weren’t.

“I appreciate you, man,” Dwayne said quietly.

Marcus stopped. “Don’t thank me yet. We still don’t know what we’re up against.”

Dwayne nodded slowly, eyes shadowed. “Yeah. We don’t.”

He let the words hang there like they were true.

But that wasn’t the truth.

He knew exactly what Sienna knew. He’d always known. She hadn’t picked him at random. She had a reason. And it was tied to something he never talked about. Not with Marcus. Not with the therapist. Not even with himself, if he could help it.

Whatever mask Sienna wore now, whatever threats she dangled, they were just echoes of a fire Dwayne had lit years ago. One he thought no one knew about.

Until she showed up.

And now it was burning its way back to the surface.

His phone buzzed again.

He glanced down. One new message.

Dr. Aaliyah Jackson:
You missed our session today. I’ve been worried about you.

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering just above the reply icon.

His chest tightened. He thought about the weight in her eyes. The ring on her finger. The line they crossed. And the silence that followed.

He didn’t respond.

Not yet.