She squared her shoulders. "I've been running all night."
"Then we need you to do it one more time,” Rocco said.
She nodded. "I'll keep up with you."
They burst through the back door just as mercenaries stormed the cottage and gunfire erupted instantly. Rounds snapped through the trees as Rocco returned fire. Dante stayed glued to Lark's side.
"Left!" Rocco shouted. They veered downhill through thick brush. Branches tore at their clothes, and mud sucked at their boots. Lark stumbled, but Dante caught her before she fell.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine,” Lark insisted. “Honestly, the only thing that hurts is my pride.”
"Liar,” Dante breathed.
She laughed breathlessly. "I've apparently learned from the best." Despite everything, he smiled.
The logging road appeared exactly where the map promised. An old pickup truck sat abandoned beneath a tarp, and Rocco froze. "No way,” he said.
"What?" Dante asked. Rocco pulled the tarp free.
"It's one of ours,” Rocco said. The keys still hung in the ignition. “Avery,” he breathed. “She must have planned ahead.
Dante looked around. "Where is Avery?"
Rocco's smile disappeared. "Buying us time." None of them spoke because they all knew what that meant. Avery and a bunch of the operatives stayed behind at the old church to hold back Keller’s men. They were giving the three of them time to get away, and he worried that he was asking too much of Avery and the other men. Dante just hoped that they were all right when the dust settled.
Rocco climbed behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine roared to life, and he fist bumped the air, making him and Lark smile. Dante slid into the passenger seat, and Lark settled between them on the worn bench seat, still clutching Isabella's journal against her chest. The pickup fishtailed onto the muddy road just as headlights burst from the trees behind them.
"They're coming," Lark whispered.
"They'll keep coming," Dante answered.
Rocco shifted into a higher gear. "Then let's make them work for it." The truck bounced violently over the uneven road. For nearly an hour, they drove without speaking, taking back roads and abandoned service routes until the lights behind them finally disappeared. Only then did Rocco slow.
"I think we lost them,” Rocco said. No one celebrated because they all knew Keller would find them again. The only question was when.
Just before dawn, they reached a weathered cabin hidden deep inside a state forest. It was small with only one bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen that hadn't been updated since the eighties. But it was a perfect place to disappear for a few nights.
Rocco killed the engine. "No one knows about this place."
Dante looked over. "STARR safe house?"
Rocco shook his head. "It was my father's cabin. I only came here a few times with him, as a kid." Silence settled over the cab of the truck. "I restored part of it after—” He didn't finish, but he didn't need to.
Lark gently rested her hand over his. "I'm glad you kept it." He looked down at her hand and then at Dante. He should have been jealous, but he wasn’t. Neither man spoke because there was nothing to say. They had escaped Keller. They had Isabella's journal. They were completely alone, and for the first time since he and Lark had fled the Santos estate, there were no guards, no agents, and no enemies within earshot. It was just three wounded souls standing on the porch of a forgotten cabin, with an uncertain future waiting beyond the sunrise.
“Let’s get some shut-eye,” Rocco ordered. “I’ll reach out to Avery in a few hours to figure out our next move.” They followed him into the safe house, and Dante looked around. It was tiny but felt safe and warm—something he was sure that Lark hadn’t felt in a long time.
Rocco tossed his backpack into the only bedroom and looked Lark over. “Why don’t you take the bathroom first?” he asked. “You can borrow one of my T-shirts to sleep in.” She nodded and shyly walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind herself. The thought of Lark in another man’s T-shirt shouldhave pissed him off. Instead, it made him hot, and all he could think about was how she’d look between the two of them.
“I’m going to run out to the truck and check in with my team,” Rocco said. Dante could see the worry on his face. “I’ve had the place stocked, just in case things went south with Santos’s deal tonight, so we can stay here for a few weeks, if necessary.
Dante nodded. “I’ll hang out here,” he said, “and keep an eye on Lark.”
Rocco nodded. “Yeah, sooner or later, the three of us are going to have to sit down and figure out what’s happening between her and us—but it can wait until we get some rest. You both must be exhausted.” Dante was, but he liked the idea of figuring out what was happening between the three of them. For now, Rocco was right—they all needed some shut-eye.
The safe house was finally quiet—not because the danger had passed, but because exhaustion had claimed everyone left standing. Rafael's warning still echoed in Dante's head.
