Her breath trembled. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me,” he urged.
She wrapped her arms around her ribs, trying to hold herself together. “My father doesn’t need an army to get inside a place like this. He doesn’t need scouts or drones or men in the woods.”
Cyclops’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. He needs a traitor.”
She shook her head, stepping back like the walls were closing in around her. “He needs an invitation from someone willing to take the bounty that he put on my head.” Ink cursed again under his breath as Venom muttered something about tearing the compound apart piece by piece.
Cyclops stepped towards her slowly—like approaching something fragile that might bolt. “Trixie. You’re safe here.”
“No,” she said, shaking. “Nowhere is safe. Not if he has someone inside.” Her voice went thin, frayed with panic she couldn’t hide. “He’s always been ten steps ahead of me. When I ran, he found me. When I hid, he sniffed me out. And here—here I actually thought that I’d be safe. But—” She couldn’t finish, because the reality hit her all at once. She thought she was safe, but she was stupid for believing that. She stumbled back untilher shoulders hit the wall, sliding down it until she was sitting on the cold floor, with her knees pulled to her chest, and her breath coming in sharp, broken bursts.
“Trixie.” Cyclops knelt in front of her instantly, one hand hovering near her face, not touching her unless she’d let him. “Hey—hey, look at me.” She kept her eyes squeezed shut. Ink and Venom stepped back, understanding enough to give her some space.
Cyclops leaned closer, lowering his voice to a gravel-soft murmur. “Breathe. You’re not alone. Not this time.”
She shook her head violently. “What if it’s someone you trust? Someone you’d never suspect? What if he’s already planning to?—”
“Stop,” Cyclops cut in. “We’ll find who it is. No one’s getting to you through my men. Not without going through me first.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she whispered.
His breath stilled. “What?”
She lifted her gaze, eyes burning. “I’m terrified someone’s going to kill you to get to me. And it’ll be my fault.” Cyclops flinched—actually flinched. Then his expression shifted—softened even.
He reached out gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing about this is your fault.”
“You don’t know—” she started.
“I know enough,” he said firmly. “You didn’t choose this war.”
“But you did!” she cried, voice cracking. “You chose me. And now someone inside your own club might—might—” She couldn’t finish what she was about to say, but she didn’t have to.
Cyclops cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin with a gentleness that almost shattered her. “Look at me,” he murmured. She did, and the world steadied just a little. “You’renot breaking this club,” he said. “You’re not breaking me. You hear me? You’re not.”
Her chest tightened painfully. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Because I won’t let that happen,” he insisted. Something in her gave way. Something deep, tired, and long-held. Her hands lifted, almost without her permission, curling into his shirt.
“Cyclops,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He leaned in, his forehead touching hers. “You’re already doing it. You’re still here.”
She trembled. “You shouldn’t want me here. I’ll only bring danger and chaos to your club.”
He gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Sweetheart, this entire club is built on danger and chaos. You fit right in.” She managed a strangled half-laugh, half-sob. Cyclops brushed his thumb across her cheek again. “Look. We’re going to find out who took that picture. We’re going to drag them into the yard and deal with them Road Reaper style.”
She shivered. “And what style is that?”
He gave her a dangerous smile. “The permanent kind.” She swallowed hard, but didn’t pull away. He lowered his voice. “You are not running. You are not hiding. And you are not dying. Not while I’m breathing.”
Her heart clenched. “Cyclops?—”
He stood and offered her his hand. “Come on,” he said. “We’re going to church. We’re going to figure out who’s betraying us. And you’re going to sit by my side.”
Her breath caught. “I—I can’t. They’ll blame me.”
