Saint studies me.“You know exactly what this cost him.”
“Yes.”
“And you haven’t asked him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Because I’m afraid of the answer.Because if he says he did itfor me, I’ll have to decide whether I can live with that.
“Because the accounting isn’t finished yet,” I say instead.
Saint nods once.“Fair.”He hesitates, then adds, “You’re not a problem.”
I meet his gaze.“I never was.”
He almost smiles as he turns and walks away.“You always were.But it’s what makes youRaven.”
The afternoon drags.Not slowly, but time doesn’t pass so much as it accumulates.I help Steel reorganize the infirmary supplies.I listen while Roxy vents about how everyone suddenly wants to talk politics.I make myself useful without becoming indispensable.
Late in the day, I finally see Savage.He’s standing near the far fence, back to the compound, hands braced on the chain link like he’s holding the world at bay.He doesn’t turn when he hears me approach.
“You should eat,” I say.
“I will.”
“You haven’t.”
“No.”
I stop beside him, matching his posture without touching.The desert stretches out in front of us, wide and indifferent.
“You ended it,” I say quietly.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t make a show of it.”
“No.”
“You didn’t justify it afterward.”
“No.”
I hate his one-word answers, but he has never been the type of man to waste his breath on unnecessary shit.He says what he means and that’s it.
He finally turns to look at me.His eyes are steady, but something beneath them has shifted.Not darker but sharper.
“It was necessary,” he says.
“I know.”
Silence settles.This is the moment I’ve been avoiding.
“You didn’t just remove a threat,” I say.“You changed how the club sees choice.”
“Yes.”
