He finally looked at me.Reallylooked. “You didn’t judge me.”
“What?”
“When I said that… that I didn’t fight back. You didn’t say I should have.”
The way my stomach twisted. “Jesus. Why would I ever say that?”
He wrapped his arms tighter and swallowed. “Youwere so proud that you’d hit him, and I thought you’d think… I don’t know. I just…”
“I don’t think anything. I swear to God.” I leaned in, softening my voice.
“There’s a reason I’m telling you,” he added.
“Okay?”
He stared right at me then. “They want Kessler dead, so whatever you’re planning on doing with him, or this AI, if you want it back to get the money, if you want to replace Kessler at KessTech, if you’re hoping to cut a deal with him, you need to know Enzo wants him dead.”
“I don’t want money, I don’t give a shit about Kessler or KessTech, I want the code gone, I want that AI gone, I want people to stop having contracts put on them, for it to blackmail and support criminals. That’s all.” I held out a hand, hovering over his knee, and he grasped it. “I’m so fucking sorry, Robbie.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “They’re making it better. Enzo makes it better. He’s my forever.
I didn’t speak. Couldn’t, really. All I could do was hold onto that tiny thread between us—his hand in mine, his words puzzle pieces fitting into the terrible picture he’d drawn. He wasn’t just the sweet man who brought me cookies. He was a survivor, and thepeople who loved him had done what they had to do to make sure he’d never be hurt again.
And honestly? If someone ever laid a hand on me, I didn’t know what I’d be capable of. But I understood now. This wasn’t only about me taking Kessler down, exposing him, or my revenge. Robbie needed justice in its rawest, most desperate form.
I didn’t say any of that out loud, but I squeezed his hand and stayed with him.
He was safe. I was on his side. And whatever came next—I vowed to be part of it.
TWENTY
Rio
I sawRobbie come down the stairs scanning the space as if he couldn’t get to where he needed to be fast enough. He was wrecked—pale, shaky, and exhausted—but determined. I knew then what had just happened. As he’d discussed with Enzo and the rest of us, he’d told Lyric his story. I didn’t know how much, or how it had gone, but he’d done it.
Enzo was there before I could move, catching Robbie around the waist and tugging him into his chest. Robbie sagged into him immediately, as if he’d been holding himself up by force of will alone. Enzo whispered something I couldn’t hear, but Robbie nodded, his arms curling around Enzo’s middle.
I couldn’t read either of them—Enzo’s face was all protectiveness and silence, and Robbie had hiseyes squeezed shut as if he didn’t want to be anywhere but where he was. That gave me nothing. Not a clue as to how Lyric had reacted. Did he hate us now? Did he know what we’d done in explicit detail?
And why did I care so much about what he thought? It wasn’t supposed to matter, but somehow it did—more than it should have.
I didn’t wait to be told. I passed Enzo and touched his arm before gesturing upstairs, and got a slight nod in return.
The door to Lyric’s room was ajar. I pushed it open, heart already pounding.
He was sitting on the sofa, arms resting on his knees, head bowed. He didn’t look up when I stepped in.
“So now you know,” I said quietly.
Lyric’s eyes were bright with something raw—betrayal, confusion, pain. He was broken in a way I hadn’t seen before, as if all the edges he’d been holding together had finally fractured.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Why did I have to hear it from the goddamn victim!”
“He’s a survivor, not a victim.”
“Fuck, Rio!”
“Look, it wasn’t our story to tell,” I said, steppingfarther into the room. “It was Robbie’s. Only ever his.”
