I didn’t flinch. Because I refused. Because the one thing Wolfe taught me was how to bleed without fear.
He stepped back around the chair. Crouched. Met my eyes.
“Now we wait,” he said. “They’ll come. They always come.”
He stood again. Grabbed the knife. Slipped it back into his pocket.
“You be good, and I’ll keep you pretty.”
Then he left. And the lock clicked behind him. And I started planning how to kill him.
Wolfe
I didn't take the stairs two at a time. I didn't run. I walked. Every step was deliberate. Every breath a calculation. My boots hit the tile of the apartment hallway like they had something to prove. If I let myself run—if I let myself feel—I wouldn't make it to the war room.I'd rip the city in half before I knew where she was.
The door was open. Someone had left it that way. Loyal, maybe. Royal. Didn’t matter.
I stepped inside. Barron looked up from the floor plans. Loyal sat on the edge of the sofa, laptop balanced on his knees. Royal leaned against the kitchen island, eating something from a tin like we weren’t all seconds from setting the world on fire.
No one spoke. Not until I closed the door. It clicked. Louder than it should have. Louder than anything else had sounded since I’d walked into that apartment and found the vent open.
My coat hit the ground before I was even across the room. Barron’s eyes tracked me. Loyal paused the video feed on his screen. Royal stopped chewing.
I walked to the cabinet. Pulled out the scotch. Poured a glass.
My hand didn’t shake. I wanted it to. I wanted something to break the stillness. But I wasn’t allowed that. Not yet.
I drank half the glass in one pull. The burn hit the back of my throat. Sharp. Clean. It didn’t help.
“They took her,” I said.
No one moved. Loyal was the first to exhale. Royal dropped his fork into the tin.
Barron stood.
“How?” he asked.
I looked at him. Not with fury. With certainty.
“I let her go.”
I watched the words land. Watched Royal flinch, barely. Watched Loyal go cold. Watched Barron take one step toward me like he might try to stop what was coming next. He didn’t. Because he knew better.
I walked to the table. Set down the glass. Flattened my palms against the wood.
“She said one minute.”
The phrase cracked something in me.
I said it again.
“One fucking minute.”
Loyal closed the laptop. Royal pushed off the counter. I didn’t look at them.
“They were watching us,” I said. “They knew the second I left her alone. They waited for her to say it. One minute. Like it was a countdown.”
I closed my eyes. And saw her. The last glimpse I had. Her back disappearing up the stairs. The shape of her hand waving me off.
