“We’d love to pick your brain about everything you’re doing at the safe house,” Jace continued, his voice gentle. He knew. They all knew. This wasn’t just business to me. This was personal. “Use that as our starting point. I’ll organize meetings with a team we’ll hire to take your vision and make it reality. Whatever you need—funding, staff, resources—consider it done.”
“They need mentors. They need real human beings. One-on-one connections they can call when they’re scared or feeling down. Not just therapists, but actual …”
“Friends,” Ryker finished softly.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“It’s a brilliant idea, Faith,” Axel said, his voice unusually serious. Even Rainbow seemed to sense the shift, going still in his lap. “We have a mentorship program in the prison system with volunteers all across the country, made up of friends and family of people affected by incarceration. It’s like having a sponsor but more personal. We could adapt the same model. Build a network of people who actually give a shit.”
“People who show up,” Dakota added softly.
“People who stay,” Scarlett agreed.
Tessa reached across the space between us and squeezed my hand. Blake nodded at me, his doctor face replaced with something warmer. More human.
And Jace smiled. “You’re going to change lives, Faith.”
The fire crackled between us, casting dancing shadows on all our faces. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. With exactly who I was supposed to be with.
These people—these beautiful, chaotic, wonderful people—were my family.
And if everything fell apart tomorrow, at least I’d found them first.
“So”—Dakota shifted, her voice careful. Hopeful—“Ryker, be honest. When will Knox get out of prison?”
Ryker hesitated. I felt his body tense beside me, his lawyer brain calculating risks and probabilities. “That depends,” he said quietly, his jaw tight. “On whether he’s finally ready to come clean about what he actually did. And why.”
The fire popped, sending sparks spiraling into the dark sky.
And somewhere, in a cell, Knox was waiting for his turn at freedom.
His turn at family.
His turn at life.
Soon, I thought, watching the flames dance.Please, let it be soon.
EPILOGUE
RYKER
“It’s time, Knox. Come hell or high water, we’re getting you out of this prison.”
He didn’t look up from the scarred metal table between us. His freshly split knuckles flexed once. When he finally lifted his gaze, something feral burned behind those dead eyes. Something I hadn’t seen in fucking years.
Hope. And it looked lethal on him.
“Yeah. Okay.”
My chair scraped back. “Okay? Jesus Christ, Knox. For years, I’ve been coming here, trying to get you out, and for years, you’ve been telling me to fuck off with my rescue plans.”
“For years, I deserved to be here.” His voice came out like gravel over broken glass. “Now, I can’t afford to be.”
The hairs on my neck stood up. Knox Blackwood didn’t do emotional revelations. He did violence and silence, period.
“What the hell happened?” I pressed.
He dragged a hand down his face, and for a second, I saw through the ink and scars to the man underneath. The one who used to laugh. Who used to give a damn.
