I pictured it with terrifying clarity.
Elior asleep in the passenger seat of a car that wasn’t registered to either of us. His head tipped toward the window, mouth slightly open, trusting even in unconsciousness. Me driving. Always me driving. Watching mirrors. Planning routes. Keeping him fed, warm, and sheltered.
Safe.
No courtrooms. No attorneys. No strangers fucking dissecting him.
Just us.
I exhaled slowly through my nose and forced myself to dismantle it, piece by piece.
Elior wouldn’t forgive me.
Not truly.
He might cling at first—confused, frightened, and dependent—but once the fog lifted, once he realized what I’d taken from him, it would rot something between us. He needed the closure this case would eventually bring.
And Malachi—
I let my gaze drift to the window, to the quiet street outside.
Malachi didn’t get to walk away untouched.
Not after what he’d done to Elior. He had nine bodies linked to him, but I could honestly care less about getting those people justice. I was only mad about the killings because hearing about them had shattered Elior. Sweet, pure Elior and his murderer dad.
If we ran, Malachi won.
If we ran, Elior would always be looking over his shoulder, wondering if today was the day his past finally caught up tohim.
The thought faded, reluctantly, like a predator backing into the trees.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and stood, pacing, trying to bleed the excess energy out of my muscles.
The real problem remained.
How the hell was I supposed to tell him?
I pictured kneeling in front of him, taking his hands, watching his face carefully for cracks. The way his mouth would start to wobble. The way he’d nod even if it hurt, because he was brave like that. Because he always chose the hardest, most honest path even when it cost him.
The anger flared again, sharp and bright.
They didn’t deserve him.
None of them.
I stopped pacing and looked down the hall toward the door to the back patio, where I could hear the familiar chime of his voice as he talked to his plants.
I rolled my shoulders back, schooling my expression before I went to him. I’d tell him gently, then comfort him.
And when the time came, when he had to walk back into that room and bare himself to strangers again—
I’d be there.
Every step. Every breath.
And God help anyone who tried to break what was already mine to protect.
I slid the phone into my pocket and walked toward the patio door.
