Ten minutes pass.
Twenty.
Still, she keeps us waiting.
“This is bullshit,” I mutter, jamming my hands into my pockets so I don’t lash out. I can’t sit still anymore. “She should’ve responded by now.”
“She’s playing mind games,” Sterling says. “It’s a tactical trick that emotional terrorists excel at. She’s hoping to make Clover sweat, doubt her decisions, affect her reactions so she’ll be easier to manipulate, easier to manage.”
“I’m not doubting,” Clover says, but her voice is small. This is the Clover I first met, not the woman who has blossomed since. “She’ll come. She won’t be able to help herself.”
Unable to stand the distance—in her voice, between us, in the air—I muscle Wrecks out of my way and crouch down in front of her. “Hey. Look at me.”
She does, and the rest of the world fades around us. Her eyes are huge, the pupils blown wide with fear. I hate it.
“If she doesn’t show up,” I say, “then we regroup. We’ll find another way. This isn’t our only option.”
“I need it to be though.” Her hand finds mine with a painful grip. She’s spent decades of her life living with shadows and ghosts chasing her. It’s clear they’re breaking her down now. “If she doesn’t come tonight, she’ll come another night, when we’re not ready. When I’m really and truly alone. When—” She bites her lip so hard I fear she’ll draw blood. “This has to end, Valen.”
Fuck me. Everything in me wants to tell her no. I want to call this whole thing off. To bundle her into the borrowed SUV and drive until we hit the highway, then never look back.
But that’s the last thing she needs.
And it’s not what she wants. Under all that fear, she desperately wants to face her demons and take control of her life.
It’s the very least that she deserves.
My cousins all nod as though they’re mind readers.
“We’ll go tonight, even if she doesn’t respond,” I say.
“Agreed,” Grant says. “We stick to the plan. If she’s there, we take her. If she’s not, we’ve lost nothing but a night.”
“Except maybe our sanity,” Roman mutters, but he’s already checking his gear. Emotions are at an all-time high for everyone because nothing has ever mattered more.
The phone remains silent while we run through our protocols. At six, Sterling pockets it.
“She’s not going to respond,” he says.
“Doesn’t matter.” Clover stands up. Wrecks whines, pressing against her legs. “She’ll be there.”
I hope to God she’s right.
“Would you like to check in with your friends before we go?” Grant asks.
I know he’s trying to be supportive, but the muscles in my neck lock up. I don’t know if I want her to talk to them so they can talk her out of this plan, or if I want her to say no so we can just get this fucking nightmare over with.
“I—” She’s a deer in headlights.
“Y’all call them now, and they’re going to drag in everyone, including the FBI, to keep you from bein’ the bait,” Chief says. His words aren’t unkind, but they don’t mask the fact that he’s fully against our plan. “There’s a reason y’all haven’t involvedthe authorities yet. You need answers, but if she calls those girls now, this plan goes up in smoke.”
Clover wraps her hands around her elbows. “Chief’s right. If I talk to them, they’ll know something’s wrong. I don’t—I don’t want to worry them any more than they already are.”
Grant puts his phone away, but I can tell he’s on edge. He cares about Clover. They all do.
“Everyone should try to eat something before we head out,” he says. “It could be a long night.”
No one makes a move toward the kitchen. In fact, my stomach revolts at the mere thought of food. That’s never happened to me before.
