He blinked once, like he was sorting through options.“All right.Different question.”His voice cleared a notch.“You breathing?”
“For now.”
He rolled toward me and propped his head on his hand, the faint moonlight carving his jaw into something hard and familiar.His gaze stayed on my face, not wandering, not pushing.Waiting.
Kane ran through symptoms.“No stomach pain, no pounding head, no dizziness?”
“None of those,” I admitted.“My brain refuses to shut up.”
“Want to tell me what occupies your thoughts?”
The ceiling became my focus because meeting his gaze made containing my panic harder.His eyes held too much steadiness -- a calm I wanted to wrap around myself.
“You plan to go after Roth.You intend to hit him first.Atilla builds a timeline while moving people around as chess pieces.”My throat tightened.“Your President will get you killed.”
Kane’s mouth twitched with one of those almost-smiles never reaching his eyes when serious matters appeared.“We begin with drama, I see.”
“You volunteered,” I pushed back.“You always volunteer.But he could keep you here.He could send someone else.He could decide you’re too… personally invested.”
His gaze sharpened.“Personally invested,” he repeated, the words twisting his mouth as though he’d bitten into something sour.
“Well, you are.”I swallowed hard.“You don’t even pretend you’re not.”
He shifted closer, elbow sinking into the pillow, and his hand came up to frame my face.His thumb brushed my cheekbone, slow.Not possessive.Not demanding.Anchoring.
“Listen to me.”The tone softened without losing the steel.“Men like Diaz and Roth don’t get to own our choices.Not mine.Not yours.Not this club’s.We’re not reacting.We’re deciding.”
The words escaped me before I could catch them.“I feel more like a domino than anything else.The one who tipped everything over.”My throat tightened around a growing lump.“When you die, I’ll haunt you.”
A low sound escaped him -- half laugh, half something else.“Pretty sure haunting works differently.”
“Watch me figure a way.Don’t test me.”
Kane leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, warm and real, so close the room blurred beyond him.“I won’t leave you alone in this mess.”
“You say the same thing over and over,” I muttered, “and my heart believes you every time.”
His breath warmed my mouth.“Good.”
The silence between us held weight.Two people hearing the same distant threat and deciding, together, not to run.
“The guy in the doorway keeps coming back to me,” I admitted.The memory had teeth.“Him complaining about lockdown for ‘one girl.’You tell me he stands wrong, and the club made their choice, and everything runs bigger than me.But when something happens to you out there, I’ll have to live with your face in my head.”
He didn’t flinch from the guilt, didn’t try to slap it away with a pep talk.“If something happens to me, it won’t be because of you.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No.”He didn’t soften it.“But it makes it true.”
I turned my face into his palm.The warmth soaked through my skin, burning away the cold Roth had left behind.“You’re bad for my blood pressure.”
“Right back at you.”
We lay in the half-dark, sharing the same air.Outside, the compound remained quiet with late-night stillness.The peace felt wrong now, carrying questions about what moved beyond the fence in darkness.
“I’m not stupid, Jade.”Kane’s voice dropped low, vulnerability cutting through his strength.“I love you.”
The declaration hit my chest -- heavy yet brilliant as a flare.My throat closed up so tight I struggled to answer him.
