He huffed a breath but reached for the sandwich anyway. It was a small win. I watched him take a bite, and the silence sat heavy between us… thick and uncomfortable. Like there was a puzzle on the table and he’d swept half the pieces into a drawer.
Finally, he swallowed and said, “Starting today, you stay close. Compound or the house. Nowhere else.”
My chest tightened. “Dad?—”
“I’m not discussing it.”
“But I start work tomorrow.”
“No.” The word was sharp, immediate. “The clinic can wait.”
“It’s a pediatric clinic assistant job,” I said, trying not to sound desperate and failing a little… a lot… “Dad, I worked for that. I applied months ago. They only take four new grads a year?—”
“And you’ll try again next year.” He set the sandwich down and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Your safety comes first.”
My hands curled into fists on my lap. “You can’t keep me locked up here forever.”
“I can until things settle.”
“Settle?” I repeated, incredulous. “You’re acting like a war just started.”
His eyes flicked to the door—the same one Lock had just walked through—and something dark moved across his face.
“Maybe it did,” he said.
The words hit like cold water down my spine. “So it is about Crimson Havoc.”
He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. “It’s not that simple.”
“It never is with you,” I whispered.
His head snapped up.
“I’m twenty-two,” I went on, my pulse hammering as the prison walls closed in around me. “I just graduated. I’m not a kid you can shove behind a locked door whenever you get nervous.”
“Nervous?” His laugh was short and humorless. “Kellan, if you knew what was going on?—”
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
Just that. One syllable. Solid and final. It cracked something small and familiar inside me.
I stared down at the desk. “So that’s it? No job. No freedom. No explanation.”
He exhaled, long and tired. “Stay close. Stay alert. And listen to me on this—” His tone dropped, colder. “Stay the hell away from anyone wearing a Crimson Havoc cut. Especially Lachlan.”
The last name hung between us like a threat.
I lifted my chin. “He didn’t even speak to me.”
“That’s exactly how I want it,” Dad said. “And exactly how it’s going to stay.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds, the kind that made my ears ring.
“Fine,” I said finally, even though nothing about this felt fine. “Whatever you say.”
Wrecker nodded once, like that solved everything.
