He shifted on the arm of the couch, following her. “You’re talking about drawing Matteo out into the open.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You realize what that means, right?”
She lifted her head then, meeting his gaze. She already knew what he would tell her.
“If you leave the program, you step out from our protection,” he said. “I can’t help you, and all you’ve really done is put a giant target on your back the size of a fucking billboard.”
She straightened, turning to stare at the fire. “I kind of think that target’s already there.”
“As Delaney, yes, perhaps, but we can fix that. However, if you go through with this, there’s nothing I can do. You would have wasted everything for the past fifteen years.”
She stretched her arms out, the heat from the fire caressing her palms. “I’ve spent half my life reacting,” she said. “Running when people told me to, changing names and cities, learning how to disappear without leaving footprints. Hell, I’ve built a tremendous company and I can’t even tell people it’s really me who built it. I did everything right, Deke. And it still followed me.”
He moved off the couch to stand beside her at the fire, his arms over his chest as he stared at her.
She didn’t give him a chance to speak, however. “They hurt Roman, smeared my name onto a mirror like it was some kind of trophy. They’ve ripped everything they could out of my family’s grasp, and I’m tired of it.”
Her voice didn’t rise so much as it hardened. “I don’t want protection anymore, Deke. I want resolution.”
She felt him studying her, searching for cracks in her determination.
He could look all he wanted. He wouldn’t find any.
He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a sigh. “You don’t do this alone. And I’ll see what backup we can give you.”
“I doubt Bobby’d let me do it alone.”
The marshal nodded. “You won’t be able to predict how violent men act when cornered, so you’ll need to always plan for the worst.”
She shook her head. “You’re right, I won’t. But I understand systems and leverage. I understand how people behave when they think they’ve finally found what they’re hunting.”
“You’re making yourself bait, you know that, right?”
She nodded. “If that’s what it takes to end this, then I’m willing to do it.”
Outside, Bobby turned toward the cabin, phone still pressed to his ear, his eyes finding hers through the window. She held his gaze.
Whatever he was arranging, whatever lines he was moving behind the scenes, she knew one thing with certainty.
This time, she wasn’t waiting to be saved.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE MORNING ARRIVED WITHOUT ceremony. There was no birdsong or gentle easing into daylight. Nothing but gray light pressing in through the trees and the faint scent of pine mixed with damp earth filtering through cracked windows. Elvis had been awake long before the sun began climbing, his body trained to rise with the threat of uncertainty rather than rest.
He moved through the cabin in silence, checking sightlines and testing window locks again, just to make sure everything was tight. He adjusted the angle of a motion sensor Blaze had installed when he arrived early that morning. Abe was already outside, pacing the perimeter with a rifle slung over one shoulder, his posture loose but alert, showing his years of training and being out there in the heat of it.
Inside the cabin, the air felt tight, however.
Blaze had arrived before the sun had peeked through the trees to the east and now sat at the small dining table, laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard while Delaney leaned over his shoulder. On the screen, lines of code flickered in white against black, numbers and letters that meant nothing but gibberish to Elvis. Another monitor showed archived public records, corporate registrations, buried property filings,everything they needed to bring Julia Moretti back to life. And they were careful, placing her far away from the rest of her family so there would be no accidents.
Elvis paused in the doorway to the kitchen and watched her without meaning to. But how could he not? Even with all the promises she had made, he couldn’t deny that somewhere buried deep in his gut was the genuine fear she wouldn’t be there when he turned around.
She wore her hair tied back and one of his shirts, with the sleeves pushed to her elbows. The collar had slipped low enough to expose the slope of her neck, stirring feelings inside him he didn’t need stirred right then. Instead, he focused on the curve of concentration in her brow and the quiet resolve in the way she held her mouth.
He tightened his grip on the cleaning cloth in his hand, once again wondering if she had made the wrong decision. Not for the first time, he wondered if he shouldn’t shut the whole damn thing down before they got any farther. He admired her courage and determination, but damn, there was all kinds of ways this could go to hell. And fast.
