It’s the most honest we’ve ever been with each other, even surrounded by lies and half-truths.
As we exit the last store, I check my watch and realize we’ve spent the entire day just… being together. No threats. No violence. No desperate survival calculations.
Just a man and his wife, shopping and talking and existing in the same space.
“We should head back,” I tell her. “Get on the road before dark.”
She nods, though I catch the flash of disappointment in her eyes. “Of course.”
At a crosswalk, I spot a familiar face across the street, Agent Reese, pretending to window shop while keeping an eye on us.She doesn’t acknowledge me, but the message is clear: we’re being watched. If that isn’t a reason enough to get the hell out of here, I don’t know what is.
The drive back to Black Hollow Creek is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The mountains loom larger as we approach, dark sentinels marking the boundary of Bishop territory. Of our reality.
Saint stares out the window, watching the city fall away behind us. “Do you think it would have been different? If we’d gotten together another way?”
The question echoes my earlier thoughts so closely it startles me. “What do you mean?”
“If I hadn’t witnessed Martin’s murder. If you hadn’t kidnapped me. If we’d just… connected. At The Rusty Nail. Or in town. Do you think it would have been different between us?”
I consider it, trying to imagine a world where I’m not Roman’s son, where she’s not the preacher’s daughter, and where blood and duty don’t stand between us.
“Maybe.” The answer is inadequate, but it’s the only one I have. “But we didn’t.”
“No,” she agrees quietly. “We didn’t.”
As we crest the final ridge before Black Hollow Creek, my phone buzzes. Roman’s name flashes on the screen. I hit accept, putting it on speaker out of habit when I’m driving.
“Where the hell are you?” Roman’s voice fills the truck, harsh and demanding.
“Checking the eastern property line,” I lie smoothly. “What’s up?”
“Make sure you’re here and ready. Tomorrow night we need to have a little family dinner. Dress appropriately.”
The blood freezes in my veins. “Why?”
Roman growls, “Because I fucking told you to be there, Calder. Bring that little wife of yours too.”
I glance at Saint and see the color drain from her face, the way her knuckles whiten where she grips the seat.
“We’ll be there,” I manage, voice steady despite the panic clawing at my throat. “Both Saint and I.”
“Good.” Roman hangs up without another word.
The silence in the truck is consuming.
“Calder—” Saint’s voice breaks on my name.
“I know.” I reach across the console and take her cold hand in mine. “I know.”
But what I don’t say, what I can’t say, is that my plan isn’t ready. The FBI isn’t in position. Everything was set for Friday, not tomorrow.
And if he knows—if he knows—everything is going to blow up in my face. The road stretches before us, leading back to Black Hollow Creek, to Roman, to a situation I can’t protect her from without revealing everything.
At that moment, with the mountains rising around us like prison walls and Saint’s hand trembling in mine, I know I’ve run out of time.
Saint
We could drownin the thick silence between us now.
