I pulled out my phone. Stared at Dom's contact information. Deleted the message I'd started typing. Closed the contact. Opened it again.
This wasn't about wanting to see him. This was tactical. Strategic. The smart play when your target operated on territory you couldn't access without help.
That's what I told myself.
The truth was messier. The truth was I'd spent two days avoiding Dom because I didn't know how to look at him without remembering firelight and careful hands and the way he'd seen straight through every defence I'd built. The truth was I was terrified that going back to Ravenswood would mean admitting I needed him for more than just access to Adrian's resources.
But Harrow was moving. Buying silence. Tracing threads toward Dom. And I was out of options that didn't involve swallowing my pride and asking for help.
I closed the laptop. Stood. Paced to the window and back. Made the decision six times and unmade it five.
Then I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door before I could talk myself out of it again.
