Safe.
She was safe.
That thought should’ve made it easier to stay awake.
Instead, with her warmth against me and the low hum of the TV filling the room, my own eyes started to feel heavy.
I told myself I was just resting them for a second.
That I’d still hear anything.
Still wake up if a floorboard creaked or someone touched the door.
The next thing I knew, the screen was casting early-morning light-blue flashes across the room, the credits were rolling, and both of us had fallen asleep.
Chapter Seven
Britta
Walking into The Badger’s Den felt like stepping into a memory that didn’t quite belong to me anymore.
The door creaked open the same way it always had.The bell above it still gave that half-hearted jingle.
But everything else?Everything else was wrong.The smell hit first.
Not beer.Not fryer grease.Not that familiar mix of cheap liquor and bad decisions.
Smoke.
Burnt wood.
Charred plastic.That lingering, ugly scent that clung to the walls even after the flames were gone.
I stopped just inside the doorway, and my stomach twisted.
The last time I’d been here… I swallowed hard.
My blood was on this floor.
Hands pressed against my shoulder, and people were yelling.The world tilted sideways while I tried to stay conscious long enough not to die on sticky bar flooring.
And now?
Now the place was… halfway between destroyed and rebuilt.
Parts of the walls were still blackened, the paint bubbled and cracked from heat.Sections of drywall had been torn out completely, exposing beams and wiring like the building had been peeled open.The bar top had scorch marks along one end, but someone—Tempi, obviously—had scrubbed the hell out of it.
The floor…
The floor was clean.
Shining.
Like nothing had ever happened there.Like I hadn’t been bleeding out right where I stood.
“Oh shit,” I breathed.It came out under my breath, but not quiet enough.
“Yeah,” Swift said low beside me.
