He pulls it from his pocket, glances down, and frowns. “It’s Will.”
I pause, wiping dust off my palms and onto a nearby rag. I feel the shift immediately.
Hex listens for a few seconds, jaw locking up again, then hangs up.
“One of Stauder’s guys just dropped a message off,” he says, voice edging back into gravel. “Told Will where I’m supposed to meet him.”
His cautious energy recalibrates—calm, focused, lethal. He’s already halfway out the door in his mind, scanning threats I can’t see.
All I see is him. And the sudden, terrible thought hits me, that I might lose him before I even get to tell him what he’s starting to mean to me.
I close the distance between us, every bone in my body aching to pull him back, to run away and hide, to pretend the world can’t find us here.
“You need to go,” I say instead, my voice steady, but my heart anything but.
He nods, then cups my cheek in one hand, his thumb dragging over my lips like he’s memorizing the texture. “Lock the doors behind me. Don’t open them for anyone but me or someone you know well. Keep that Sig on you. And text me the second you get home tonight.”
“I will.”
Leaning down, he kisses me with an indescribable fervor. Like he’s pressing a piece of himself into me, just in case. Like he knows he’s walking into a den of vipers who don’t care who they take from this fucked up world.
And I let him. I take the kiss like he’s promising his return.
When he pulls away, I hold his eyes. “Be careful.”
“I’m not the one you need to worry about.”As if that were possible.He says the words, wearing a smug look that hints at the unhinged side of him I pray to God I never have to see in action.
The door closes behind him. A simple sound, a whoosh of warm air.This is what the world falling out of alignment feels like.
I stand in the center of my shop, pulse pounding in my ears, staring at the space he left behind.
And suddenly, I can’t breathe.
Not because I don’t trust him. Because I do. I trust this man with my body, with my soul, with my damn life. But trusting him to come back in one piece? That’s a new kind of fear—one that sinks its claws in deep.
He’s not invincible, no matter how solid he feels under my hands. I’ve seen the scars. Heard the violence of his past. I know what kind of danger lives along the edges of his life.
I want to scream after him. Beg him not to go. Tell him that I’m falling for him so fast it terrifies me. That I can already see the hole he’ll leave behind if he doesn’t come back.
But I don’t.
I put on the face I’ve always worn when everything feels like it’s about to break. I square my shoulders. I lock the door like he told me to. I keep my hand close to the Sig.
And I pray that after all the things that didn’t kill him, Ned Stauder won’t be the one who finally does.
The door yields under my hand. I let it close behind me with a soft thud. The air carries the tang of lemon cleaner and the faint trace of bourbon, remnants of countless spills and wipe-downs. Everything is in its place at Ruin's End, yet there’s a quiet that feels almost reverent, as if the walls themselves are holding their breath.
Will’s behind the bar, sorting through a short stack of mail and receipts. He doesn’t look up right away.
JT’s probably still in the back, stretched out on that busted couch he refuses to give up. Told us again this morning to fuck off and let him sleep until the bruises stopped screaming.
Will finally looks up at me. “That was fast.”
“Did what I could. Helped Sable sweep up. She’s still got a hell of a mess in there.” I pause, letting my hand settle on the edge of the bar. “Who was it?”
Will gives a quiet nod, then sets aside what he is doing. “Devin.” He walks around the bar and stops in front of me. “I’veseen him before. Short guy, too many teeth crowding their way to the front, shoulder holster he thinks nobody sees.”
“What’d he say?” I prod.
