“You always come for me,” she cries. “T, please.”
The nickname hurts.
But it doesn’t work anymore.
I lift my chin even though my whole body feels broken.
“I did,” I say. “Every time.”
Her sob hitches.
“I’m done.”
Silence spreads.
Brianna stares at me like I slapped her.
Maybe I did.
Good.
Shadow’s thumb moves against the back of my neck, slow and steady.
Another man speaks behind us, low and hard. “We need to move.”
Shadow nods once, but he doesn’t let go.
He slides one arm beneath my knees and lifts me.
I should protest. Should say I can walk. Should do anything except melt into him like I was made to fit there.
But I am tired.
So tired.
And he is warm.
And here.
Outside, the morning is too bright. The air smells like pine, gunpowder, and gasoline. Bikes line the dirt road in front of the cabin. Men move fast around us, talking into phones, securing weapons, hauling zip-tied men toward waiting vehicles.
Shadow carries me past all of it.
I keep my face against his chest until the cabin is behind us.
Then I whisper, “She hated me.”
His arms tighten.
“I know.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
“I thought I was saving her.”
His voice goes low. “You were trying to save the girl you loved. That’s not the same as being wrong.”
