I don’t.
I take a slow sip from my second cup of coffee, buying myself a second to keep my voice steady.
“I know,” I say.
Her mouth opens and closes. “You… know?”
“Ghost looked you up last night.” I keep it plain. “And I’ve got eyes, Grace. I saw what you did to the car.”
She flinches, bracing for the hit that should follow being caught.
It doesn’t come.
I lean forward slightly, forearms on the table.
“I also know Malice,” I say. “I know how he treats people. Especially the ones he thinks belong to him.” My voice stays level, but something hard sits under it. “We don’t let innocentwomen get used in our wars. That’s not how the Damned Saints operate.”
Her breath shudders out of her.
Relief floods her face so fast it looks like pain. Then fear surges right behind it, as if her body doesn’t trust relief to last.
“Safe,” she whispers, like the word is unfamiliar. “Safe isn’t real. Safe doesn’t exist.”
I set my mug down carefully.
“It does,” I say. “It just doesn’t look like you think it does.”
She watches me like she’s waiting for the catch. Waiting for the price.
“It looks like a cabin that creaks,” I continue. “A garage full of wrenches. A man who will put himself between you and a fist, or a blade, or a bullet, without expecting anything in return.”
Her eyes search mine for the lie.
She won’t find one. I’m not good at lying. I don’t bother.
She nods, slow.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Then… what happens now?”
I sit back and fold my arms, because I need the distance to keep my hands off her.
“You stay here,” I tell her. “You don’t leave this property. You don’t answer your phone unless it’s me.” I hold her gaze. “You tell me everything you know about the Wolves’ next move. In return, I protect you. We protect you.”
She looks down at the half-empty mug. Her fingers tighten hard enough to whiten the knuckles.
For a second, I think she’ll throw it. Or stand up and run. Or collapse.
Instead, she nods.
“Okay,” she says.
A small, shaky smile appears, like she’s trying it on for size.
It’s the bravest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
My own smile surprises me. It’s small, maybe invisible, but I feel it in my chest like something loosening.
Then I push it down.
