"I'm telling you as soon as the information was verified," Killingham countered, his patience clearly wearing thin. "And I'm telling you because you and your fellow Regents need to be on high alert. Increase security at Covenant House. Limit Miss Turner's movements. Take whatever precautions you deem necessary. Trust me when I say that here safety is my concern as much as yours, Mr Bale."
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process the implications. Damien was still out there. Still free. Possibly watching us, watching Cadence, planning God knows what. The thought made my stomach twist with a nauseating mixture of rage and fear.
"I want all the intel you have," I demanded. "Sightings, possible locations, known associates, everything. And I want your people working with my father's security team. No jurisdictional bullshit, no Trivium secrecy. This ends now." Killingham studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"I've already sent the files to your secure email. And Nicholas has been informed. As for cooperation..." He sighed. "You'll have whatever resources the Trivium can provide. This reflects poorly on all of us, Logan. We want him found as much as you do." I doubted that very much. No one could possibly want Damien found as much as I did, except perhaps Ryder and Cole. But Ikept that thought to myself, nodding curtly as I turned toward the door.
"Logan," Killingham called after me. I paused, hand on the doorknob, not bothering to turn around. "Be careful how you handle this with Cadence. She's been through enough trauma." A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
"You think I don't know that? You think I need you to tell me how to protect her?"
"I think," Killingham said carefully, "that sometimes our desire to protect the people we care about can lead us to make decisions that ultimately cause more harm than good."
I left without responding, slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the frosted glass panel bearing the Trivium's insignia. The hallway of the administration building was mercifully empty, allowing me a moment to compose myself before heading out into the rain.
My thoughts were a storm as violent as the one raging outside. Damien was still free. Still a threat. And I had to go home and face Cadence with this knowledge weighing on me, knowing I had failed her yet again. The thought of seeing her, of watching her flinch at sudden movements or wake screaming from nightmares, knowing her tormentor was still out there, was almost unbearable.
I had been avoiding her. I could admit that much to myself, at least. Throwing myself into the hunt for Damien, spending more time with my father's security teams than at Covenant House, all under the guise of seeking justice. But the truth was simpler and far more shameful: I couldn't face her. Couldn't bear the sight of what had been done to her because I had left her alone. Couldn't stand the knowledge that if I had just stayed with her that night, none of this would have happened. The rain soaked through my jacket as I made my way to my car, but I barely feltit. The cold numbness that had become my constant companion since Cadence's abduction seemed to shield me from physical discomfort. Nothing could compare to the ice that had settled in my chest the moment I saw her in that cell, broken and barely alive.
The drive back to Covenant House was a blur of windshield wipers and grim thoughts. By the time I pulled into the driveway, I had resolved to tell Cole and Ryder immediately, but to keep the information from Cadence for as long as possible. She was just starting to heal, just beginning to reclaim some semblance of her former self. I couldn't bear to shatter that fragile progress with the news that her nightmare wasn't over.
The house was quiet when I entered, shaking rainwater from my hair and dropping my keys on the console table with a muted clatter. I expected to find Cadence in her room, or perhaps with Ryder, who had barely left her side since her return. Instead, as I passed the living room, I caught sight of her curled on the couch with Cole, both of them engrossed in a movie playing on the television. I froze in the doorway, momentarily stunned by the sight before me. Cadence's hair was purple again, a rich, vibrant violet that framed her face and made her blue eyes seem even more striking against her pale skin. It was so unexpected, so reminiscent of the fierce, defiant girl we had first brought to Covenant House, that for a moment I couldn't speak.
Cole noticed me first, his eyes flicking up to meet mine with a mixture of wariness and something like pride. He nudged Cadence gently, and she turned, her gaze finding mine across the room.
"Logan," she said, her voice soft but steadier than I had heard it in weeks. "You're soaked." I became aware of the waterdripping from my jacket onto the hardwood floor, forming a small puddle around my feet.
"It's raining," I said stupidly, still unable to tear my eyes away from her transformed appearance. "Your hair." A small, hesitant smile touched her lips, and she reached up to touch a purple strand as if to confirm it was really there.
"Cole and Ryder helped me dye it back. Well, Rosa did most of the actual work, but it was their idea." Something twisted painfully in my chest. Cole and Ryder had seen what she needed, had found a way to help her reclaim a piece of herself, while I had been too busy running away from my own guilt to even notice. The realisation burned like acid in my throat.
"It looks good," I managed, forcing a smile that felt foreign on my face. "Really good." And it did. The purple hair was like a beacon in the dimly lit room, a flash of the old Cadence shining through the trauma-induced fog that had surrounded her since her rescue.
Cole was watching me closely, his expression carefully neutral but his eyes alert. He could always read me too well.
"Everything okay?" he asked, though his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.
I hesitated, glancing at Cadence. She looked... not happy, exactly, but more present than she had in weeks. The last thing I wanted was to shatter that fragile peace with news about Damien.
"Just wet," I replied, gesturing to my drenched state. "And I need to talk to you about something, Cole. Work stuff." Cole nodded, understanding the code for 'not in front of Cadence.' He turned to her with a gentle smile.
"Will you be okay for a bit? I should see what Logan needs." For a fleeting moment, I saw panic flash across Cadence's face, the fear of being left alone that had become a constantsince her rescue. But she mastered it quickly, nodding with a determination that made my heart ache.
"I'm fine. The movie's almost over, anyway." Cole squeezed her hand briefly before standing, and I noticed with a mixture of relief and envy how she didn't flinch from his touch.
There had been a time when any physical contact sent her into a spiral of panic, but it seemed she had begun to heal, at least around Cole and Ryder. Around the men who had stayed, who had found ways to help her recover. Not around me, who had run from my own failures.
"I'll be in the office," I told Cole, already turning away. I couldn't bear to look at Cadence any longer, at the progress she had made without me, at the trust she now showed Cole that she might never show me again. The office was cold and dark when I entered, but I made no move to turn on the heat or the lights. The darkness suited my mood, the chill a fitting companion to the ice in my veins. I stood at the window, watching raindrops race down the glass, until I heard Cole enter behind me.
"What happened?" he asked without hesitation, closing the door firmly behind him. I turned to face him, taking in the changes in his appearance since I had last really looked at him. The shadows under his eyes had lightened somewhat, and there was a steadiness to his gaze that had been missing in the immediate aftermath of Cadence's rescue. He, too, was healing, moving forward while I remained trapped in my own guilt and self-loathing.
"They didn't catch Damien," I said bluntly. "It was a decoy at the airport. Some paid stooge with his passport and clothes." Cole's expression hardened, his jaw clenching visibly.
"Fuck."
"It gets worse," I continued, moving to slump into one of the leather chairs that faced the desk. "There have been sightingsaround Harrogate and Leeds in the last few days. He's still here, Cole. Still close."
"Jesus Christ." Cole ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognised as one of his tells for extreme stress. "Does Cade know?"
