Isabel and Lily, finally safe after god knows how many years of hell.
Stone and me, dancing around something that feels bigger than either of us.
A cartel that wants me dead. A campaign that needs winning. A club full of people who’ve somehow become family.
It’s a lot. Maybe too much.
But standing there, with Stone’s promise still warm in my ears and the sounds of the clubhouse behind me, I don’t feel overwhelmed.
I feel hopeful.
“How surprising.”
I’m heading back inside when I see her.
Isabel is standing in the hallway outside the room where they’ve put Lily. Her arms are wrapped around herself, her face pale in the dim light. She looks lost. Adrift. Like she’s been running for so long she’s forgotten how to stand still.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
She startles. Then relaxes when she sees it’s me.
“Hey.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“Don’t want to.” She glances toward the door. “Lily’s finally out. It’s the first time in—” She stops. “A long time.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
I lean against the wall beside her, ignoring the protest from my ribs. “You know, you don’t have to stand guard. The club’s got people on the doors. No one’s getting in.”
“I know.”
“But you’re going to stand here anyway.”
“Probably.”
I almost smile. “I get it.”
“Do you?”
“I spent years prosecuting monsters. I know what it’s like to feel responsible for someone’s safety. To lie awake wondering if you’ve done enough.”
Isabel is quiet for a moment. “Did you? Do enough?”
Maria’s face flashes through my mind. Daniel’s drawings.
“Not always,” I admit. “Sometimes no matter what you do, it’s not enough. People still get hurt.”
“That’s not very comforting.”
“No. But it’s honest.” I turn to face her. “The difference is, you got her out. Lily’s safe because of you. Whatever happened before tonight—that’s over. You won.”
Isabel’s jaw trembles. Just for a second, before she locks it down.
“Doesn’t feel like winning.”
