I shake my head. “I'm good. Thank you for the backup.”
“It's our company,” Logan mutters, heading to the car. “Not just yours.”
Ethan waves, follows him.
Maddox lingers.
“What's up?”
“The trail leads to Hammond,” he says. “That's twice now. The money through Dylan, now this.”
“I know.”
“Your father's not this sloppy, Kai. Someone wants us to find these breadcrumbs.” Maddox's jaw tightens. “Could be a board member trying to curry favor by doing Victor's dirty work. Could be someone else entirely.”
I hear what he's not saying. “You're thinking Voss is back.”
“He trained me. Sold me out. Worked for Hammond before.” Something cold in the way he says it. Old wounds that never healed. “If he's resurfaced, he wouldn't bother covering his tracks. Not from me. He'd want me to know.”
“Can you confirm if he's active?”
“I'll find out.” He pauses. “If it's him, this is just the opening move.”
At my bike, I breathe through the pain. Knuckles raw, shoulder stiffening, blood on my shirt. Most of it isn't mine.
I stare at my phone. Dylan has access to my contacts, my calendar, my messages. If I text Emma from this phone, whoever's watching will know.
jog back toward the street. Logan's car is idling at the corner, Ethan behind the wheel.
I tap on the window. Logan rolls it down.
“Need to borrow your phone.”
He doesn't ask why. Just hands it over.
I walk a few feet away, dial Emma's number. She picks up on the second ring, wary.
“Hello?”
“It's me. I'm using Logan's phone.”
“Kai?” Relief floods her voice, then sharpens into worry. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Got a bit banged up. Nothing serious.”
“Define 'a bit banged up.'”
I look at my bloodied knuckles, the torn skin on my forearm, the way my shoulder screams when I move it wrong.
“Just some bruises. Maybe a cut or two.”
“Kaiden.”
Something about the way she says my full name makes me close my eyes.
I stood in a room tonight and watched a man's finger break. I did nothing to stop it. I bent another man's hand back until he screamed and felt nothing but cold satisfaction when he gave me what I wanted. I don't know what that makes me anymore.
“I could use some ice for my shoulder,” I say quietly.
