Help yourself to anything.
Beside the yellow square sits a burner phone, already connected to his Wi-Fi. When I check the bank’s portal, it says my replacement card should arrive today.
While I make coffee, last night replays like a catchy tune you can’t get out of your head. The sex? Beyond amazing. Anything more? No way. We’re both broken. People like us don’t get the kids, the white picket fences…
Sure, we could blame the military, but let’s be real—we were fucked up before we ever laced our boots. The uniform gave us somewhere to hide.
Sipping my cup of joe, I dial my brother Apollo. “Hey, Pol.”
“Whereareyou?” Worry laces his voice. “Everyone’s freaking out trying to find you.”
A long deep sigh escapes my lungs. God knows I love my family, but I need space—boundaries. I can’t keep running, and I’m done letting them control my life.
“Did the rest vote you in as their official spokesman?” My tone comes out harsher than intended.
“C’mon, sis. It’s not like that.”
“Clearly it is. So let me say this in plain English. If everyone doesn’t go homenow, I’ll be spending all future holidaysalone. Also, if I get wind of even one more intervention attempt, I swear to God I’ll ghost you all.”
The silence gives me hope. Perhaps this time he’ll understand.
“Bree, look at it from our side. You lost your job, your boyfriend, your apartment—all in six months. Then you tell us you’re hiking off-grid, alone, no way to reach you. For someone with your history, what were we supposed to think?”
He sighs. “And now, your lawyer says the FBI is seriously considering charging you for Brett’s murder. They’ve already petitioned a judge for a warrant.”
“What?” The word barely makes it past my lips.
My pulse spikes. Ice floods my veins.
Did Kade…? Oh God. Did he agree to sex just to keep mecalm—until his buddy could slap on the cuffs?
Shit. I am such an idiot.
“Okay. Here’s my last and final offer.” Pacing the floor, phone clutched tight, I try not to lose my shit. “You stay. I’ll keepyouand only you in the loop. The lawyer can stay too. The rest of the horde, including the shrink, needs to go home. They have families and jobs. Lives. This needs to stop.”
“Bree—”
“No. I’ve said this a million times. You need to listen. I haven’t been suicidal since that one stupid teenage moment. It was a bad second in a dark year. A blip. A speck. It doesn’t define me—it never did.I amnotfucking depressed.”
My fingers grip the counter. “What Iamis angry. Am I clear?”
“Jeez, Bree. You don’t have to shout. I’m on your side.”
I exhale. “Sorry. This has to end. I’m a grown woman. A decorated Navy pilot, for chrissake. If you’re the mouthpiece, simply deliver my message:Go home.Today. Now. I mean it.”
After a quiet goodbye, I just stand there, furious, adrenaline humming beneath the surface.
Then I scroll to the contact I swore I’d never dial again.
Andrea needs to start telling the truth. My ex is dead. Deep down, Iknowshe had something to do with it. If she doesn’t start talking? God help her.
A few seconds pass before she calls me back. “What is going on? They won’t tell me anything. Is Brett really dead?”
Her voice cracks—but not from grief. Any lingering doubts about her innocence vanish. I’m sure there’s guilt hiding beneath the tremble.
She’s holding back. Damn her.
How much should I say? The FBI’s probably sitting on half the details but seeing howI’mthe one they’re about to cuff, I don’t owe them squat.
