My blood goes cold.
“Did you answer him?”
Arlo straightens. “I didn’t say shit. Just told him new ownership doesn’t talk business with strangers and that he should enjoy his beer or leave.”
Good. Smart man.
But it doesn’t matter.
Because Cole never needs much.
“Did he give a name?”
Arlo shakes his head. “No. He paid cash. Left a decent tip.”
Of course he did.
I push back from the bar, pacing once, then again. Every instinct I’ve ever trusted is screaming now, loud and clear. Pressure first. Information second. Fear last.
I pull my phone from my pocket and head for the back hallway, the one spot in this building where the walls don’tlisten. The door swings shut behind me with a soft click, and I just stand there, staring at the scuffed floor, jaw locked.
Then I call Rhea.
She picks up on the second ring.
“Tell me,” she says. No greeting. No bullshit.
“A man was in my bar yesterday. Asking about ownership. Asking who’s around after closing.” I drag a hand down my face. “It has to be Cole.”
“Fuck,” Rhea mutters. “Okay. That lines up.”
My chest tightens. “So it is him.”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “Cole crossed into the region two days ago. Rented a truck under a burner name. He’s been keeping his distance, but he’s definitely circling.”
The words settle into my bones.
“How many?”
“As far as I can tell? Just him for now. But you know Cole. He doesn’t need backup to make a mess.”
I close my eyes, jaw flexing. “He never did.”
“Just be smart,” Rhea continues. “Double security. Don’t move against him first. And whatever you do, don’t let him think he’s found leverage.”
I hang up without saying goodbye.
The hallway feels narrower now.
I turn and head upstairs, my steps slowing despite myself as I reach the guest room. The door’s closed. Aurora’s probably still asleep.
She’s too soft for this world. Too open. Walking around as if kindness isn’t a liability.
I tell myself I’m protecting her because it’s the right thing to do.
Because she didn’t ask for this.
Because she’s just passing through.
