“I’m not a shield,” I say, because if I say it out loud, maybe she’ll believe it. “I’m the guy standing between you and whoever thinks you’re disposable.”
Her throat moves when she swallows. “Comforting.”
“Accurate.”
One of the techs looks up. “Cal, we’ve got something.”
Cal turns. “Talk.”
The tech points at the screen. “Her phone shows a profile installed that shouldn’t be there. Not a normal app. It’s a management profile. Remote access capability, hidden processes. Whoever put it there wanted to monitor her without leaving obvious footprints.”
Rowan’s face drains a shade. “That’s… on my phone?”
I lean in. “How’d it get there?”
Tech shakes his head. “Could be a malicious link. Could be physical access. Could be someone got her Apple ID credentials and pushed it. We’ll know more once we pull the logs and compare timestamps to her location history.”
Rowan’s voice goes quieter. “So they’ve been… watching me?”
“Yes,” Cal says simply. “Which means we adjust. New phone. New number. New accounts. Anything tied to you gets treated like it’s burned.”
Rowan’s bravado tries to rise. “I can’t just disappear. I have sources. I have people who depend on me.”
Cal’s gaze stays steady. “You can, and you will, until we know who’s in your circle and how deep this goes.”
Rowan’s eyes flash. “That’s not?—”
I place my hand lightly on the table near hers, not touching, but close. She notices. Her fingers twitch toward mine, then stop.
She exhales, sharp. “Fine.”
Cal looks at me. “We’ll also run a sweep on your vehicle, your comms, your routine. If they tagged your phone, they might have tried to tag you the second you got close.”
“They did,” I say. “The text came in while we were moving.”
Cal nods once. “Then we assume active surveillance. We go dark tonight. We move her to the safe house before sundown.”
Rowan’s gaze snaps up. “Tonight?”
“Yes,” Cal says.
Rowan opens her mouth, and I can see it, the fear she’s been swallowing trying to claw its way out. She’s brave, but brave doesn’t mean unshaken.
I tilt my head toward her. “You can do tonight.”
She stares at me for a beat, and there’s something raw behind her eyes. Not helplessness. Not weakness. Just the weight of realizing she can’t outtalk this. “Okay,” she says, voice softer. “I can do tonight.”
Cal’s expression doesn’t change, but his tone shifts a fraction. “Good. Because you’re not doing it alone.”
The tech keeps working, screens filling with data. A digital autopsy.
Rowan sits still, shoulders held tight.
I watch her and think about my brothers asking if she’s pretty. They have no idea. Pretty isn’t the danger here. The danger is that I’m drawn to her. That her fear makes something protective snap into place in my chest. That her humor makes me want to lean closer instead of stepping back. This was supposed to be simple. Keep her breathing. Get paid. Leave. But sitting in TheBridge with her beside me, I can feel the shift. The moment something stops being an assignment and starts becoming personal.
My phone buzzes again.
Nash: We’re moving on a new lead at first light. If Shaw is involved, Dad’s trail just got real. Stay sharp, Sin.
