I look away, wrapping my arms around myself. “Just... be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Jason isn’t working alone. And the people he’s involved with? They’re dangerous in ways you can’t even imagine.”
Zane leans forward, his jaw tight. “We’re not exactly strangers to danger, Mia.”
I glare at him, my fear bubbling over into frustration. “This isn’t just danger, Zane. These people don’t just hurt you. They erase you. Your name, your life, everything. And if Jason’s meeting with them, that means he’s not just playing games anymore. He’s escalating.”
“You’re scared,” Asher says after a moment, and it’s not a question. He steps closer, his voice dropping lower. “But we need to know, Mia. If there’s something you’re not telling us, it could put all of us at risk.”
I take a shaky breath, my nails digging into my palms. “I’m scared because I know what they’re capable of. And I don’t want your blood on my hands.”
Zane rubs a hand over his jaw, his scar catching the dim light. “We can handle ourselves, Mia. But we can’t protect you or the girls if we’re walking in blind.”
“I’m not blind,” I snap, the words sharper than I intended. “I know what Jason is capable of. And if you’re not careful, you’ll find out the hard way, too.”
“Fine,” Zane finally says, his tone clipped. “But if he’s escalating, so are we.”
“But–” I say, feeling an irrational surge of protectiveness for these men. I’ve known them what, three days?
And I can tell that the conversation is closed.
A nightmare wakes me up just before dawn. Jason’s grinning face is imprinted on my mind. The shadows in the hallway look too dark, too long, and the creaky floorboards beneath my feet echo louder than they should.
I try to shake it off, to remind myself that the house is secure, that the twins are safe. But the knot in my stomach won’t loosen.
The faint glow from the study catches my eye. I step closer and see Damon at the desk, his sharp features illuminated by the pale light of his laptop screen. He’s hunched slightly, scrolling through security footage, his expression as hard as granite.
Guilt churns in my chest. Asher’s lips, his touch—it all flashes in my mind like a shameful secret I can’t undo. What was I even thinking? My life is in chaos, Jason is out there, and I’m... kissing Asher? What if Asher said something to Damon?
My stomach twists further. I don’t want tension between them. I don’t want trouble. Not when I don’t even know what I’m doing myself.
“You should be sleeping,” Damon says without glancing up, his voice low.
“So should you.” My voice comes out quieter than I intended.
I move into the room, heading to the kitchen nook tucked in the corner. My hands fumble with the coffee pot, the simple act of brewing coffee feeling bizarrely normal against the backdrop of surveillance screens and the faint hum of tension in the air.
I glance over at Damon as the coffee machine gurgles to life. His shoulders look broader in the dim light, his jawline set in that same determined way I’ve always remembered. My pulse skips, and I tell myself it’s the lingering adrenaline from the nightmare. Not Damon. Not the way he looks at me sometimes, like I’m the only thing in the room that matters.
But now, his attention is on the screen, his eyes locked on the grainy footage. He’s always been like this, so focused and relentless. I wonder if he even really notices me here.
“Anything new?” I ask, though my voice wavers slightly.
“Nothing significant,” he says, his tone clipped. He leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just making sure no one gets the drop on us.”
I nod, pouring two mugs of coffee and bringing one over to him. He accepts it with a quiet “Thanks,” his fingers brushing mine briefly as he takes the mug.
I sit down across from him, cradling my own cup. The silence between us is heavy, not quite awkward but not easy, either. Ifeel so bogged down by my thoughts of Jason. And whatever mess I’ve created by letting Asher kiss me.
I risk a glance at him. “Damon,” I start, but my voice falters. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
His eyes flick to mine, sharp and assessing. “Something on your mind?”
I shake my head too quickly. “No. Just... thank you. For everything. For helping me. For helping the girls.”
His gaze softens slightly, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You don’t have to thank me, Mia. This isn’t about favors or payback.”
I nod. How the hell did I end up kissing Asher when Damon was eating me out mere hours ago?
My phone buzzes on the counter, cutting through the tense quiet. Sheila’s name flashes on the screen, and my heart sinks. Damon’s gaze drops down to the phone.
