I’ve seen her touch it without thinking. When she’s nervous. When she’s calming herself. When she needs somethingreal.
She never takes it off.
My hand closes around it.
Tight.
Too tight.
Everything inside me goes completely still.
He didn’t just take her, he put his hands on her, dragged her out of this town.
Behind me, Finn, who I didn’t even hear following me, swears under his breath. “Ryder…”
I don’t look at him.
I don’t look at anything except the broken chain in my hand.
Cole didn’t rush this.
He chose the spot. The angle. The moment.
And he left this behind.
A message.
I straighten slowly, every movement measured in a way that has nothing to do with restraint and everything to do with control.
“Lock it down,” I say. “Lock The Hollow downnow.”
Finn moves. Doors secure. Lights adjust. The Hollow stops being a bar and becomes something else entirely.
Zane is already pulling additional feeds, mapping routes, building something usable out of fragments. Finn paces, hands flexing, energy coiling tighter with every second.
“We should call Kurt,” Finn says. “We should get?—”
“No.”
That gets his full attention.
“He’ll vanish the second sirens hit the road. And then we’re chasing nothing.”
Finn’s jaw tightens. He knows I’m right.
That doesn’t make it easier.
I take my phone out and start dialing.
Names I haven’t used in months. Men I walked away from when I decided this place would be different.
“Varga,” I say into the first call. “I want everything you’ve got.”
I don’t wait.
Another call.
“Roads out. All directions. Track anything that moves.”
