She hums contentedly, leaning into me. “How was the club business?”
“Handled.”
“And the mysterious conversation with Lily?”
“Also handled.” I press a kiss to her hair. “You fit, you know. With all of us.”
“I know.” She sounds almost surprised by her own certainty.
“Good.” I tighten my arm around her.
We sit there as the party winds down around us—watching, listening, being part of something bigger than ourselves.
Tomorrow, everything changes. The rally. The FBI raid. The end of Summit.
But tonight, there’s just this, her warmth against my side, and the sound of my family laughing.
19
JOSIE
Duck’s rally draws the biggest crowd Stoneheart has seen in years.
The town square is packed—families with children, elderly couples holding homemade signs, young professionals who’ve never attended a political event in their lives. The energy is electric, hopeful in a way I haven’t felt since I first moved here.
Stone insisted I stay close. After everything with Summit, he’s not taking chances. But I don’t mind the protective detail. It’s actually kind of sweet, watching Hawk and Axel pretend to casually position themselves between me and any potential threats.
“You’d think I was the one running for office,” I mutter to Kya.
“You’re the president’s old lady.” She grins. “That makes you a target and a VIP. Get used to it.”
Duck takes the stage to thunderous applause. He looks good up there—confident, commanding, nothing like the nervous man who asked me to review his speech three times this morning.
“Friends, neighbors, family,” he begins. “I’m not going to stand up here and make a bunch of promises I can’t keep. You know me. You know I’m not a politician—I’m a guy who runs a garage and happens to care a whole lot about this town.”
The crowd cheers. Someone yells, “That’s why we love you, Duck!”
“And I love you too.” Duck grins. “But listen—we’ve been through a lot this past year. Outside interests trying to buy up our land, drive out our businesses, turn Stoneheart into something it was never meant to be. And we said no.”
More cheers. I find myself clapping along.
“We said no because this town—our town—is worth fighting for. Not because of the buildings or the land values or whatever the hell Summit Properties thought they could profit from. But because of you. The people. The community. My neighbors, the people who make Stoneheart home.”
He’s hitting his stride now, and the crowd is eating it up.
“So here’s my promise—the only one I’m going to make. If you elect me mayor, I will fight for this town every single day. I will fight for our businesses, our families, our right to exist without some corporate vulture trying to pick our bones. I will?—”
He pauses for dramatic effect, reaching for a cord at the side of the stage.
“—be your PUBLIC SERVANT!”
He yanks the cord.
The banner unfurls behind him in all its fifty-foot glory.
VOTE DUCK WHEELER: YOUR PUBIC SERVANT
For a split second, nobody reacts. Duck is still facing the crowd, arms spread wide, basking in what he thinks is his big moment.
