“Fair enough,” he says finally.
Isabel blinks. She’d been braced for a fight. The easy agreement throws her.
It throws me too. Stone doesn’t make deals. Stone doesn’t compromise. Which means he’s planning to keep her close, watching her, waiting to see what she does when she thinks no one’s looking.
He thinks she’s involved,I realize.He thinks she might be part of this.
Irritation flares hot in my chest. I want to argue. Want to tell him he’s wrong, that I’ve looked into this woman’s eyes and seen fear, desperation, and the bone-deep exhaustion of someone who’s been fighting alone for too long.
For God’s sake, Stone. Look at her. This isn’t a woman running a con—this is a woman fighting for her life.
But I know Stone. And I know that arguing right now will only make him dig in harder. So I keep my mouth shut and let him play whatever game he’s playing.
“One night,” Isabel repeats, like she needs to hear it again to believe it. “And then I’m gone.”
Stone turns to me. “Can you walk?”
Isabel doesn’t seem to notice Stone hasn’t agreed with her.
Two people who don’t trust anyone,I think.This should be interesting.
“Probably not,” I admit
“Then I’m carrying you.”
“Stone—”
He removes cords and tubes from me with surprising gentleness, then scoops me up, ignoring my hiss of pain as my ribs scream in objection. “Hold on.”
“Stone, wait—I’m in a hospital gown.”
“I noticed.”
“My ass is literally hanging out.”
“I’ve got you covered.” He shifts me slightly, tucking the fabric underneath me with a matter-of-factness that somehow makes it worse. “No one’s seeing anything.”
“Except you.”
“I’m not looking.”
“You’re a terrible fucking liar.”
The ghost of a smile crosses his face. “Hold on, Josie.”
He starts moving toward the door when Tank appears, blocking it.
“Kid okay?”
“In emergency. They’ll patch him up.” His gaze narrows on the Isabel. “We bringing her?”
“Yep, you get Isabel. Hawk, get the asshole. I don’t want a shred of evidence left behind.”
We’re out the door and down the hall before I know it.
“Stone,” I say softly. “She’s not our enemy.”
His eyes flick to me. Something passes between us—not agreement, but acknowledgment. He’s heard me. He just doesn’t believe me yet.
