"What do you mean you don't?" I asked carefully.
"I mean I've been digging for twelve hours straight and I can't find who authorized Sam Jarrow's release. The paperwork is there—signed, sealed, processed—but the authorization doesn't match any standard protocol. Someone buried this deep, Gideon. Whoever did this has serious reach."
My jaw tightened. "How deep are we talking?"
"Federal level, at minimum. Maybe higher." He paused. "This isn't random. Someone wanted him out and wanted him at that inn."
"Why?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Another pause, longer this time. "You remember the target I mentioned on the helicopter? The one we've been hunting?"
My pulse kicked up. "Yeah."
"This is probably connected. Has to be."
"So, who's the target?"
"We are," Elias said, the two words dropping into my brain like anvils. "I'm coming to Kiawah. I'm bringing friends."
Normally I worked alone. Preferred it that way. Fewer variables, less chance of someone else getting hurt. But this—this was different. I was more than happy to take the help.
"When?" I asked.
"Give me an hour."
Relief hit me harder than I expected. "Good."
"One hour," he repeated. Then the line went dead.
I stood there for a moment, phone still in my hand, staring out at the marsh. The sun was higher now, burning off the morning mist, turning the reeds from gray to gold.
Then I turned and headed back inside, pulled by the smell of Maude's cooking and the need to be near Hazel.
20
HAZEL
The door eased open, the hinge giving a soft sigh before Gideon stepped through. He didn’t make much noise—he never did—but even his quiet filled the room. I was still propped against the pillows where he’d left me, the sheet gathered in my fists, my heartbeat remembering last night in scattered, uneven beats.
He saw me awake and something unclenched in his shoulders. Just a fraction, but enough to make my chest loosen, too.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He came straight to the bed, sitting beside me like he belonged there—like the space he took up was mine to lean into. His hand cupped the back of my neck, warm and steady, thumb brushing once behind my ear in a way that got my breath all wrong.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” he said. “And a friend of mine, Elias, will be here soon. Less than an hour.”
“That soon?” My voice was thin, scraped out.
“He’s not coming alone,” Gideon said, nodding. “Says he’s bringing people. They’ll help us.”
He looked at me again, taking inventory in that quiet, thorough way of his.
“You didn’t sleep,” I said.
“Didn’t need to.” His fingers slid down to trace my jaw. “Not when you needed watching.”
A shiver went down my spine—fear, safety, and a pulse of something darker passing through me like a chord struck clean.
