Ryder:
She's sleeping. I'm staying here. Don't disturb us.
Logan read the message, nodded once more, then disappeared back down the corridor, his footsteps deliberately quiet. I leaned my head back against the wall, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over me. It had been a long day, a long week, a long six fucking weeks of hell. But Cade was home now. She was safe. And I would spend every night sitting outside her door if that's what it took to help her feel secure again. I would give her all the time and space she needed, would follow her lead in this healing journey, no matter how long it took or how difficult it became.
Isat alone in the office, surrounded by the debris of our investigation, reports, photographs, and evidence logs from Ivory Crest Manor scattered across the desk in organized chaos. The lamp cast long shadows across the room, the darkness a fitting backdrop for the thoughts churning through my mind. Three in the morning, and sleep was as elusive as the man wewere hunting.
My eyes burned from staring at the same documents for hours, searching for something, anything we might have missed. The photos were the worst, clinical evidence shots of Cadence's injuries upon admission to the hospital. I forced myself to look at each one, a self-imposed penance. The bruising around her wrists and ankles from restraints. The cigarette burns trailing down her spine. The brand on her middle back, crusted and infected.
That one was on us. Or really on me. We'd put our mark on her first, before Damien ever touched her.
I took another swig of whisky straight from the bottle, welcoming the burn. Six fucking weeks she'd been in that hellhole while we chased our tails, following false leads and dead ends. Six weeks of torture while I drowned in guilt and self-pity instead of finding her. My phone buzzed with yet another text from Killingham, the fifth one today. I ignored it, just as I'd ignored the others. The Trivium's sudden concern for Cadence rang hollow after they'd failed to protect her, after they'd sanctioned her punishment in the first place. Killingham could rot in hell for all I cared. It was already beyond suspicious of how involved he wanted to be. It wasn’t normal for a Trivium High Lord to be so hands on about, well anything.
I pulled up the latest report from Lynch's team, scanning for updates. Damien McIntyre had been tracked to Dover three days ago, but the trail had gone cold. All his bank accounts had been drained shortly after the raid on Ivory Crest. He'd likely fled the country, the cowardly piece of shit. I slammed my fist against the desk, sending papers fluttering to the floor.
My phone rang, cutting through the silence like a knife. I glanced at the screen, Bobby, one of my father's most trusted men. I answered immediately.
"What is it?"
"Logan," Bobby's gravelly voice came through, tense and urgent. "We've got a lead, a guy trying to sell videos of your girl. Dark web. You need to move fast." My blood turned to ice in my veins. Videos. We knew he had videos. Damien was too much of a narcissist not to document his depravity. I was hoping that being on the run that he maybe wouldn’t have time to distribute them, but this was the third time that one of the three teams working on this had traced copies this week. Maybe McIntyre thought that if we were chasing after those bastards that we wouldn’t have time for him.
"Who?" I demanded, already on my feet, adrenaline flooding my system. "Where?"
"Some lowlife who calls himself ViperChaos online. One of our guys infiltrated a private forum where he was advertising 'exclusive content' of a 'purple-haired elitist slut.' His description matches Miss Turner." The rage that swept through me was blinding, a white-hot inferno that consumed rational thought. I gripped the edge of the desk to steady myself, knuckles turning white.
"Where is he?"
"We traced the IP to a flat in Manchester. Sending you the address now. Your father's men can be there in twenty, but he thought you'd want to handle this personally."
"Damn right I do. Text me the details. I'm on my way." I ended the call, shoving the phone into my pocket and grabbing my coat from the back of the chair. Videos of Cadence. Being sold like fucking entertainment. The thought made bile rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down. There would be time for disgust later. Right now, I needed cold, calculated rage.
I took the stairs two at a time, heading for Cadence's room. As I rounded the corner, I spotted Cole emerging from Ryder's room, his expression sombre.
"Logan?" he questioned, immediately alert at my barely contained fury. "What's happened?"
"We've got a lead," I said, keeping my voice low. "Someone's trying to sell videos of Cadence on the dark web." Cole's face transformed, his mismatched eyes hardening to chips of ice.
"When do we leave?"
"Now. Where's Ryder?" Cole nodded toward Cadence's door, where Ryder sat on the floor, his back against the wall, fingers extended beneath the door. The sight was so unexpectedly tender it momentarily cut through my rage. Ryder, the most volatile of us all, sitting vigil outside her door like a faithful guardian.
"He hasn't moved since she fell asleep," Cole murmured. "Said he promised her he'd stay." I approached quietly, not wanting to disturb Cadence if she was finally getting some rest. Ryder looked up at our approach, his eyes questioning.
"We've got a lead on the videos," I said quickly, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. "Someone's trying to sell them. We need to go. Now." Ryder's face darkened, a storm gathering in his blue eyes. For a moment, I thought he would leap to his feet, eager for violence. Instead, he glanced toward the door, then back at us.
"You two go," he said firmly. "She needs someone here. I promised I'd stay."
"Are you sure?" I asked, surprised. Ryder was usually the first to volunteer for any mission involving bloodshed.
"I'm sure. She had a panic attack earlier. If she wakes up alone..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. We all knew what isolation would do to her now, how it would catapult her back to that cell. Cole nodded.
"I’m sure we can manage it, the two of us.” Then he glanced down at Ryder. “She's sleeping by the door, I saw it on the camera in your room." Ryder nodded a thanks and dropped his head back against the wall by the door, as he settled in for the night, his hand not even remotely moving from the gap under the door. I squeezed Ryder on the shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of his sacrifice.
"Keep your phone on," I told him. "We'll update you when we can." Ryder nodded, his attention already turning back to the door, to the sleeping girl beyond it.
"Make them pay," he said softly. "Make them fucking pay."
"Count on it," Cole promised, his voice deadly calm.
