“Well then,” Freddie says with a grin. “Time to get to work.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Aurora
By early evening,The Hollow feels almost like itself again.
The boarded window catches the last of the sunset, the plywood shining honey gold in the fading light as if we meant to install it for aesthetic reasons instead of because someone tried to intimidate us before breakfast.
Fairy lights are on.
Music hums low through the speakers.
A handful of regulars trickle in, quieter at first, then louder as beer loosens the tension that’s been sitting on all of us since dawn.
Ryder moves through the room as a calm tide. Contained, checking in with everyone without making it obvious he’s checking in with everyone.
Finn has fully recovered from the morning and is back in peak performance mode behind the bar.
“Tonight’s special,” he announces to a couple at the counter. “Defiance Lager. Tastes like resilience. Slightly hoppy.”
“It’s the same IPA as yesterday,” I stage whisper.
“Branding, Aurora,” he says gravely.
I’m perched on a barstool with my laptop open, Founders Day spreadsheets beaming against the dark wood. I keep glancing up, scanning faces, counting bodies. Normal. Laughter. Glasses clinking.
We’re open.
We’re fine.
We’re not scared.
That’s the message.
The door opens.
The cooler air rushes in, carrying dusk and pine and…
Zane.
He steps inside with his typical soft smile. Jeans. Henley. Sleeves rolled just enough to show forearms.
Forearm.
My eyes catch it immediately.
A flash of black and gold under the warm bar lights.
I close my laptop without even thinking.
He spots me watching.
He heads my way. The crowd parts without realizing they’re doing it.
“You miss me?” Finn calls.
“No,” Zane replies.
