yet. You won’t like what it costs.
Kiera’s hands curl into fists. “Who?” I look at the screen.
Unknown: Someone who remembers
basements.
The word hits wrong. Too deliberate. Too personal. Kiera goes still beside me, looking over my shoulder at my phone. She locks down any bit of emotion. “Someone is listening.” I turn to her, voice low, steady.
“They picked the wrong people,” she says.
I nod, agreeing. “They did.” Another message comes in.
Unknown: You’ll hearfrom us soon.
Do not contact Wade.
Do not run your program.
And don’t pretend you’re in control.
I slip the phone into my pocket and step closer to Kiera, grounding us both in the same space. “We don’t do anything stupid,” I tell her. “We don’t rush. We don’t panic.”
She looks up at me, eyes dark and focused. “We get them back.”
“Yes,” I say. “But we do it our way.” The house creaks softly around us, like it’s holding its breath. Whoever took Cam and Lila didn’t come for chaos; they came prepared. And now they’re waiting to see what we’re willing to break.
Chapter Nineteen
Rage crashes over me in violent waves, hot and suffocating.How the fuck did I let this happen?The whole reason we were here was to keep her safe. And for one stupid, selfish moment, I let myself pretend the world wasn't watching. That we could have something normal. Weknowsomeone’s keeping tabs on us. I can’t scream. I can’t tear the house apart. I can’t react the way every instinct is screaming at me to react. So I shut it down, turning off every emotion except the monster I trained myself to become.
Everything goes quiet inside me. The noise collapses inward until nothing remains but purpose. Cam and Lila move to the front of my mind. Everything else is shoved into the dark. A presence settles at my black—warm, steady, undeniable. Sterling. “You’re not going through this alone.” I turn and meet his stare. He sees it—the cold. The part of me that’s already stepping away from softness. The monster I keep locked behind my ribs. “This isn’t your fault.”
“It is,” I say flatly. “If I hadn’t let my guard down, they wouldn’t be gone.” I straighten my shoulders, locking every fragile feeling into its cage. “So now I do the only thing left.” His gaze searches mine, hunting for the crack, the moment I break. I don’t. I hate that I let my walls down just to drag them back up again, but Cam and Lila don’t need softness right now. They need results. “I become what I trained myself to survive.”
He studies me for another long beat, searching. Then he nods. Just once. No argument. No reassurance. “Okay.” The weight of it presses down on both of us—thick, heavy, like the air before a storm. “So, what’s the plan?”
I lift a finger to my lips. “Not here. If they took them, they’re listening. Or watching.” Sterling doesn’t question it. He gestures toward the door. We move fast and quietly. Within minutes, we’re in his truck, the house shrinking in the rearview mirror like something already trying to forget us.
He drives until the neighborhood disappears behind us, until there’s nothing but open land and endless sky. Then he reaches for the dash, tapping in a sequence without looking. A low, steady hum fills the cab. “Jammer’s live,” he says. “We’re clear.”
I exhale slowly, letting any last traces of softness bleed out of me. “Good,” I reply, voice cold and certain. “Because now we hunt.”
The truck devours the road, tires humming against the asphalt like it’s trying to outrun the silence. Open land stretches on either side of us, empty and indifferent under the sunlight. Sterling keeps his eyes forward, hands steady on the wheel. No wasted motion. No questions he doesn’t need answers to yet. I stare out the window and let the calm settle in fully. This is the part people misunderstand about real rage. It doesn’t make you reckless. It sharpens you. It strips everything unnecessary until all that’s left is cold, singular intent. “They didn’t take them to disappear,” I say finally.
Sterling glances at me—quick and assessing, like he’s trying to find a crack I’m hiding.Good luck.Then his eyes return to the road. “No.”
“They want leverage,” I continue. “Which means Cam and Lila are still alive.” I pause, testing the truth of it in my chest. “For now.” Sterling nods, slowly. I turn toward him. “They wanted us to notice. They wantedmeto notice.”
His jaw tightens. “You think this is about you.”
“I know it is,” I say, not softening a single syllable. “Wade was never the complete endgame. He was my personal endgame and noise. A way to seehow far I’d push back without remembering why.” I pause, letting the words sink in. “There are bigger things at play than just him.”
Sterling exhales through his nose. “And now?”
“And now they escalated.” I fold my arms, grounding myself in the pressure. “Which means they’re impatient…or they’re afraid.”
That earns me a sharp look. “Afraid of what?”
