His words didn’t help. Not one bit. Instead they made the room tilt again and I pressed my back to the wall, trying to steady myself. “I can’t just sit here waiting for something to happen.”
“You have to. We all do,” Eli said gently. “It’s the safest place for you right now.”
Safe. The word felt ridiculously hollow now. The ranch had been safe. My parents had been safe. The clubhouse had been safe. And look what had happened to all of them. Where were they all now? Dead or burned to the ground. Nowhere seemed safe anymore.
I slid down the wall once more, burying my face in my hands. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating to the point I couldn’t breathe.
Every time a car passed outside, every time a floorboard creaked, every time one of the men shifted their weight, my heart leapt into my throat. My body was so tense that every muscle ached from holding itself.
I kept seeing Tex’s face, smoke-streaked, determined, and so totally terrified for me.
The waiting was its own kind of torture. And the worst part was the not knowing. About Tex, about the club and the men that had sworn to protect me, about the cartel, and about what was left of my life outside these four walls.
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself and whispered into the quiet, “Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.”
No one answered and the room stayed still, and the hours kept stretching on.
I wasn't sure at what point I finally fell asleep, but when I woke up it was to the feeling of sudden movement within the room and the throaty sound of engines outside the door.
