“I know.”
“I might never be.”
I wrap an arm around her, pull her against me. “That’s fine. I’m not expecting easy.”
She stays like that for a long beat. Breathing in the space between us.
Her voice barely above a whisper: “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Roja.”
“I’m not promising forever,” I say. “Just... right now. Just here. With you.”
She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she shifts into my lap again. Her arms loop around my neck, her forehead still tucked beneath my jaw.
“I’ll take right now,” she murmurs. “But don’t let go.”
I tighten my grip around her. “Never.”
CHAPTER 18
KELSEA
It’s chaos.
Sirens wail sharp through the mid-morning din, cutting over music and chatter like a blade. I smell ozone and panic the moment the first Coalition badge flashes near the front entrance of the casino. The air goes dense. Heavy. Like the whole damn building inhales at once and forgets how to let it out.
Ceera’s voice is in my ear before I even register moving. “Back room. Now.”
She grabs my wrist and yanks me past the drink station, through the staff corridor that reeks of sweat, oil, and stale liquor. My pulse is so loud in my ears it feels like someone’s beating a drum behind my eyes.
“They’re not just checking papers,” Ceera pants as we hit the supply closet. “They’re sweeping.”
“What?” My throat is dry. My voice breaks like old wood.
“They’re not asking. They’re pulling anyone who doesn’t have credentials on file.”
I freeze.
I know this. This is how it starts. Sweeps. Detainment. Disappearances dressed up as protocol.
Ceera pushes a mop cart aside with a grunt, revealing a maintenance tunnel hatch. She kicks it open and points. “Go. You know the route. I’ll stall as long as I can.”
“Ceera—”
She grabs my face with both hands. “You’re my sister, Kels. Not by blood, but in every way that matters. Nowmove.”
I don’t say thank you. I just run.
Down steel stairs that smell like piss and rust. Past dark turns and flickering maintenance lights. My side cramps halfway through, but I don’t stop. I don’t think. Just legs, lungs, and the single image in my head of Roja’s quarters. Safe. Armored. Trapped.
By the time I reach the outer yard and sneak past the shipyard gates, I’m soaked in sweat. My palms burn from the ladder climb. My hair clings to my face and my chest aches with every breath.
I make it to Roja’s.
I pound on the door with the last strength I’ve got.
He opens it fast—must’ve heard me coming.
