He scoffs under his breath. “Then you didn’t just find out.”
I finally look up, meet his gaze. “I found out. Then I did what needed doing. Then I came here.” The memory of Candace’s blood on my shirt the night her bastard of a father tried to sell her, her head tucked under my chin, anchors me, grounding me with a weight I can’t shake. I came here because the world has tipped sideways, and I need to make sure we’re not already free falling.
Victor’s eyes darken. “Donovan doesn’t let go once he wants something. I’ve seen it up close.” His voice doesn’t rise, but something behind it cracks. “He had Olivia for years. Before I found her.”
A tremor passes through his jaw. The kind you only get from watching someone you love rot in the hands of a man who thinkspower is ownership. That tells me more than I need. And not enough.
Victor goes on, softer now. “I help because I remember what it means to stand in a room and wonder if anyone’s coming.”
The words hit harder than the walls I want to punch. Because I know that truth too. He nods slowly, already reading it in my silence. Already respecting it.
“I’ll talk to Arden,” he says. “If this thing’s buried that deep? He’s the only one who can pull it out without setting off alarms.”
A chill slides down my spine. Arden doesn’t deal in favors. He deals in debts. But if Donovan is involved, we’re already in hell.
I stand, needing to move again, and wipe my palms on my jeans, though they’re bone-dry. “People talk about Arden the way you talk about a vampire,” I mutter. “I’ve seen him in mirrors.”
Victor lets out a dry laugh. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t confirm. Just watches me head toward the door.
“There’s someone I need to check on,” I say, hand gripping the knob. “Back at the clubhouse.”
“You could’ve called,” he says.
I glance over my shoulder. “I needed the ride.”
Needed the wind. The noise. Something to scream louder than the memory of her voice breaking when she saidhe tried to sell me.
He gives me a nod. One that holds more weight than words.
“See you later,” he says. “You’re not done, are you?”
I pause, jaw clenched. Meet his eyes with a storm in mine. “No,” I say. “I’m just getting started.”
The weight of Candace’s lyric notebook flashes in my mind—tucked safely beside her guitar. That music is her voice. Her weapon. Her exit strategy.
Now she has me.
I don’t answer anything else. Just step back into the daylight, hoping it can burn off the stain of everything I’ve just confessed. My jaw is locked tight, heart thudding in time with the engine that no longer rumbles beneath me. But my mind is already pulling in another direction.
Candace.
She was still asleep when I left. I tell myself that’s for the best. But now? Now I need to see her more than I’m ready to admit.
Because last night, she didn't run. Because last night, she chose me. And tomorrow, if this world tries to take her again, it’ll have to go through hell to get her.
Victor had to know the truth. He has someone to protect, too.
But Donovan? Donovan has everything to do with my missing family. And if I’m going to dig them out of the grave he tried to bury them in, I’ll have to start turning over bodies.
I’m not done yet. Not until Candace is safe. Until Cornelius’ blood is answered for. Not until my brother and sister are found. Not until every man who ever called a girl a transaction learns what it means to burn.
Chapter 39
Candace
Thesmellofantisepticand ink should make me nervous, but it doesn’t. Not here. Not tonight. Frankie’s shop is closed to the public, but the lights are on, music low, and the windows are steamed from the warmth of too many bodies and too much laughter. Ruby brings whiskey. Sloane brings snacks—mostly sugar. Darla shows up in sweatpants and a hoodie that says “Nope.” Frankie rolls her sleeves up, black gloves snapping into place as she adjusts the stool in the back the way someone might prepare for a sacred little rebellion in motion.
The playlist hums low, a female voice rasping through the speakers—smoky, aching, something that wraps around your ribs and presses where it hurts most. I find myself humming the melody under my breath without realizing it. Muscle memory. Survival. I catch myself just as Ruby glances over, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. I look away.
