Except… it is. It has to be, because I’m out of choices.
I tap the number and bring the phone to my ear before I can talk myself out of it.
It rings.
Once.
Twice.
On the third ring, a man answers with one word, rough and low.
“Yeah.”
My throat tightens. “Hi. I’m calling about the listing.”
Silence.
Then, “You read it.”
“Yes.”
Another pause. “You understand what it is.”
“I understand you’re offering… security.”
His voice drops, steady and certain. “I’m offering a place you can’t be reached.”
My fingers go numb around the phone. “Where?”
He says the address like it’s nothing.
And my stomach drops straight through the sidewalk.
Because I know that road. I know that turnoff. I know that stretch of land tucked into the trees like a secret.
Local.
Familiar.
Wrong.
My screen pings with a text a second later—his number sending the address again.
I stare at it, breath caught.
Because whatever I just agreed to?
It’s real.
And it’s close.
Chapter 2
Wyatt
The knock comes soft, like whoever’s on my porch doesn’t want to be heard.
That tells me plenty before I even reach the door.
