Time slips.
When it comes back into focus, there’s a mess on the floor and a lightness in my chest that wasn’t there before.
Heart still thudding, but slower now.
We didn’t lose her.
I didn’t show up late.
Didn’t fuck this up.
Not like everything else I touch.
She’s with Noah and Vitaly now.
Safe.
Loves me. Every jagged, rusted part of me.
I glance down at Oksana’s blank face.
Madness did that.
My Madness.
The woman who sees me. Matches me.
I pull out my phone and text Orion and Reid.
Me: Got an issue. Three. Bring snacks.
While I wait, I clean up. Crates get restacked. Guns get wiped. Bullets pried out and dropped into a Ziploc. Zip ties go on the wrists. Tarps down. No blood trails.
Less than an hour and they’re here.
Orion tosses me a lollipop.
I catch it without looking.
Reid whistles low. “Thought you were babysitting Vitaly?”
“Yeah,” I say, already bagging shell casings. “Talk while we clean?”
We fall into rhythm. Reid starts lifting bodies. Orion flicks open a blade and starts stripping anything traceable. Tattoos, jewelry, burner phones.
While we work, I tell them what happened.
“She fucking what?” Orion barks mid-wrap. Rage and panic behind every syllable.
“She acted,” Reid says, voice calm but not soft. “Like any one of us would’ve if we saw her, or each other, in danger.”
“Fucking bat,” Orion mutters, dragging the bigger of the bodies toward the back bay doors. “Goddamn baseball bat.”
“Is this it?” I ask Reid. “You’ve been tracking the case. Was Dmitry her only inside? Are we done?”
Reid pauses, flicking a flashlight over the room. “Yeah. She dealt with others, but none of them were linked. Dmitry was the only one with full access.”
“Will someone come looking for him?” Orion asks, yanking open the truck doors. “Or her?”
