I pull a black duffel from my closet, leaving the case inside that houses my on-the-go work stuff. And I pack a few extra things… Not everything. Just what still feels like mine. Clothes I like. The knife I keep taped behind my jackets. The sewing kit I use on defective rats who can’t keep their mouths shut.
When I come back into the bedroom, Jace is sitting on the edge of the bed, hands braced on his knees, watching me like he’s memorizing the way I move toward him.
I stop within reach, suddenly unsure what to say about any of this. I wanted the truth from them, and now that I’ve got it, I’m not sure if I should trust them with my secrets.
Jace reads my hesitation as fear.
He reaches out, hands firm but gentle on my hips, tugging me forward until I’m standing between his knees. There’s a certainty in touch that catches me off guard, like this connection between us is as natural as breathing.
It’s dangerous.
Because I feel the same way.
“He doesn’t get to make you afraid of your own space,” he vows, those pretty hazel eyes boring into my soul.
“I’m not afraid of him,” I whisper. “I’m afraid of what it means, of how much I didn’t see.”
Jace shakes his head, hands steady as his thumbs stroke my skin. “You missed nothing. He didn’t want to be seen until he was ready.”
“He’s not going to stop.”
I mean it as a warning, but Jace frowns at me, brows furrowing as his grip tightens.
“No. Not by any conventional definition.”
I nod. I already knew that… and would have already killed him. But Daniel is getting too close to prying eyes now. It makes the cleanup cost more.
I’ll happily pay it to rid the world of him.
I’m just not sure I can go to the extreme with my HimLock guys watching me like I’m under a microscope.
“And you three,” I murmur. “You won’t stop either.”
“No,” he confirms with too much confidence. “We’re not.”
I lean in... because I don’t want safety wrapped in soft lies and empty promises. I want the type of protection that doesn’t apologize for itself. The kind that watches. That waits. The kind that understands exactly how far I’m willing to go and wants to match my energy.
I feel like they’ll go just as far. It’s just… Am I ready to test that?
I don’t love the idea of chaperones or being escorted.
Or of my space no longer being only mine.
But Daniel crossed a line that I won’t simply uncross.
I’m not ready to tell Jace—or any of them—what I really do when men like Daniel stop being useful to the world.
Not yet.
I’m going to plan his death, but it won’t be from an apartment that he has access to, that he already believes belongs to him.
And if I’m going to let these men stand between me and the dark…
I want them to know I’m worth the risk.
Even if I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll let them see just how dangerous I really am.
Jace waits with patience I can’t match, still seated on the edge of my bed, fingers hooked in the waistband of the boxer briefs I’m wearing. He gazes at me as if he’s memorizing my shape so he can chase my shadow.
