Alive.
We were both alive.
And Marshall?
Wasn’t.
Not anymore.
“I tried,” I whispered into Charlie’s chest, voice thick with tears. “I tried to convince them. Like I do with brands, with people. I used every trick I know—psychological mirroring, emotional leverage, empathy plays. I even brought up oxytocin.”
His hand slid up the back of my head, cradling me gently, protectively. “Sloane …”
“But it didn’t work,” I said, breath hitching. “They didn’t crack. They didn’t care. And I felt—” My throat squeezed. “Helpless. Like I was nothing. Just a girl in zip ties with a big mouth and no power at all.”
Charlie leaned back just enough to look at me, his eyes wild and glassy. “You are not nothing.”
“You weren’t here,” I said, almost childlike, like the admission itself shamed me. “And I didn’t know if you ever would be again. If you were still?—”
He cupped my face again, firmer now. “I’m here. I’m alive. And I swear to God and everything that’s holy, I will never let them take you from me again.”
My body shook as his words wrapped around me, as real as the arms that held me. For once, I didn’t try to make a joke, didn’t twist my fear into something palatable. I just nodded, pressing my forehead to his and breathing in the weight of what we’d just survived.
“I believe you.”
Footsteps thundered on the porch.
More voices. More movement.
And then the door burst wider, and in came the rest of them.
Ryker. Marcus. Atlas. Noah. Elias. One I didn’t recognize who looked like the others. Silas, apparently.
Even Quentin, already inside, gave a nod of respect. The Dane brothers didn’t just arrive—they charged. Armed and furious and ready to raze the entire plantation if Charlie so much as asked.
“About time,” I murmured, a shaky laugh escaping me.
“You think we were gonna let him go alone?” Atlas growled, pulling a knife from his belt like it was personal. “That’s cute.”
Noah gave me a wink. “Glad you’re still breathing, princess.”
“You okay?” Elias added, scanning me up and down like he could assess trauma by eye contact alone.
“I am now,” I said.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “We clear?”
Charlie nodded. “Cleared enough. She’s priority.”
Ryker stepped forward and cut the zip ties from my wrists with a quick flick of his blade, his expression soft. “Let’s get you out of this godforsaken house.”
We moved fast. Charlie never let go of my hand, even as he guided me past the downed body of Marshall, still pooling red against the floorboards. For a flicker of a moment, I looked down.
There was nothing left of the man I once feared. No menace. No control.
Just ruin.
The humid night air hit me like a wave when we stepped outside. I gasped—grateful, dizzy, free.
