Then Amber leaned over and bumped her shoulder into mine. “You do tonight.”
Evie raised her glass. “To strays.”
Regan smirked. “The best kind.”
I laughed under my breath and lifted mine too. “To strays.”
Glasses clinked. Fire popped. Somewhere behind us, in the shadows, Mason and the other man didn’t move, but I could feel it anyway: nothing was getting past them tonight.
For a little while, I let myself believe that was comfort instead of another form of danger.
I pushed up from the chair, fire still warm on my legs. “Bathroom,” I said, lifting my empty glass. “Anyone want another round?”
A few hands went up.
Amber pointed her bottle at me. “Same.”
Evie waved lazily. “Surprise me.”
Regan leaned back in her chair. “You’re a gem.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
They laughed as I slipped inside. The noise of the fire softened when the door shut behind me. The house felt quieter now, a few of the women already drifting off to bedrooms, laughter muffled down the hallway. I rinsed my hands, splashed cool water on my face, and stared at myself in the mirror.
Dust still clung to my skin. My hair was wild. My eyes looked tired, but lighter somehow. Less hunted. Less like I was outrunning a life and more like maybe I had accidentally run into one.
For a second, I didn’t recognize myself.
Then I grabbed a couple clean glasses from the kitchen and headed back toward the patio.
I stopped before I reached the door.
Voices.
Low. Sharp. Just outside the side entrance.
I shouldn’t have listened.
I did anyway.
“Shh. Don’t talk so loud.” Regan’s voice. Tight. Annoyed. “Stop upsetting me. Can’t you just let me have one night?”
Mason answered, calm but edged. “You don’t know anything about her.”
A pause.
“She’s a risk.”
My grip tightened on the glasses.
A risk.
Regan huffed. “Oh, please.”
“I mean it,” Mason said. “This could be staged. You pick up strays all the time. For all we know, she was planted.”
My stomach dropped.
