“No.”
Another pause. Then Logan leans back slightly, decision settling in. “Then we do this right,” he says. “We find who’s behind it. We lock it down. And you don’t make another move without clearing it.”
I don’t agree. I don’t argue. I just nod once. Because for now that’s enough. But we both know. This isn’t over. Not between us. Not with her.
And definitely not with whoever the hell thought they could put Olivia Martin’s name on a list and walk away from it.
The room is starting to feel like a cage.
Not because it’s locked. Not because anyone is forcing me to stay in it. The door is right there. I could open it. I could walk out.
I know that now. That’s the problem. Because I also know what’s on the other side of leaving.
I sit on the edge of Cobra’s bed, fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket like it’s the only thing holding me still. The shower helped. The water washed away some of the fear that clung to my skin, some of the memory of hands that weren’t supposed to be there. But it didn’t fix the rest. It didn’t quiet my mind. It didn’t make this make sense.
A knock sounds at the door. Soft. Measured. Not demanding.
“It’s me,” Brooke calls.
I push myself up, moving toward the door before I can second guess it. I unlock it, pull it open just enough to see her standing there with that same steady expression she always seems to have.
“How are you holding up?” she asks.
“Better,” I say, and it’s not a lie. “I think.”
She nods like that’s enough. “You don’t have to stay in here,” she says gently. “If you feel steady enough, we can go out for a bit. Just the main room. Nothing overwhelming.”
My stomach tightens immediately. Out there. With them. With all of it. I glance back into the room for half a second, like it might pull me back in if I let it. “I don’t know,” I admit.
“You don’t have to,” she says. “We’ll go slow. And if you want to come back in here, we come right back. No pressure.” That word again.
No pressure. It’s strange how much that matters in a place like this. I nod slowly. “Okay.”
She steps back, giving me space instead of guiding me forward, and I appreciate that more than I can explain.
When I step into the hallway, I feel it immediately.
Him.
I don’t even have to look.
Cobra is there. Not close. Not crowding. But there. Leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes already on me like he knew the exact second I would step out of that room.
My breath shifts slightly. Not panic. Not fear. Just… awareness.
He pushes off the wall, straightening, and for a second I think he’s going to come toward me. He doesn’t. He stays where he is.
But I notice something. The distance. It changes. Not dramatically. Just enough. Like he’s adjusting based on something I’m not consciously doing. I take a step forward. My breathing stays steady.
He doesn’t move.
I take another. Still steady.
He shifts slightly, not closer, just… present. Tracking. Matching. That matters. More than it should.
Brooke glances between us, sees it, and doesn’t comment.She starts walking, and I follow her.
Cobra follows too. Not beside me. Not behind me. Offset. Watching.
