Page 6 of Make Them Pay

I need to go. Not away from Render. Toward Poe. I’ve got knowledge of Goldenbell’s world that nobody else does. I can find where they’re holding the crew faster on my own. I won’t have to explain how I know what I know. I won’t have to watch Render’s face when he realizes the woman he rescued is the reason his best friends are in chains.

I watch him through my lashes for several minutes. His breathing is steady and controlled. His hand rests near the gun beside him. He’s not sleeping. I can tell by the rhythm. He’s pretending, just like I am.

Slowly I sit up. The mattress springs creak softly. I freeze. Render doesn’t move.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and set my bare feet on the hard floor. I stand carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, and take two steps toward the table where the go-bag sits. My fingers reach for it.

“The keys are in my left pocket.”

His voice comes from the floor, quiet and calm, and my whole body locks up. My heart slams once, hard, then races against my ribs.

I look down. He lies flat on his back with his eyes open now, staring at the ceiling like he’s giving me the dignity of not being caught.

“If you want to leave, I’ll give them to you,” he says in that same steady voice. No anger. No accusation. “The sedan’s got a full tank. Take a left out of the driveway, follow the gravel for half a mile, and you’ll hit a county road. Go south and you’ll reach a town with a gas station in about twenty minutes. There’s cash in the side pocket of the bag. Two hundred dollars.”

I stand there with my hand still extended and guilt heavy in my chest. I don’t know what to do with a man who responds to me trying to sneak away by offering directions and money.

“You’d… uh, let me leave,” I whisper.

“You’re not a prisoner, Enley.” He says it to the ceiling, still not looking at me. “You were a prisoner four hours ago. You’re not one now. If you want to leave, leave. I won’t stop you. I won’t follow you.”

“It isn’t about leaving. It’s about going after Poe.”

Something in the air shifts. He sits up slowly. The blanket pools around his waist. He rests his forearms on his bent knees and looks at me for the first time since I got out of bed. His eyes catch the moonlight and my stomach does a little flip I have no right to feel right now.

“Going after Poe,” he repeats.

“I’ve got information. Things I know about Goldenbell that could help find where they’re holding everyone. I can move faster alone. No explanations. Just me and what I’ve learned over the past months.”

I stop before I say too much. But Render’s watching me with that careful look. He’s assembling pieces of a puzzle, and I realize he’s been working on it longer than I thought.

“Months of what?” he asks gently.

The silence stretches between us.

“You know,” I say.

“I suspected. For about six months.” His voice stays raw and steady. “There were signs in Poe’s network that didn’t match anything else. Poe told me to drop it. Said it was handled. He only says that when he’s protecting someone. He was protecting you.”

“From myself.”

“From the consequences.”

The admission hangs in the air. He knew enough. Not everything, but enough to see the shape of what I’d done.

“Serafina found my traces,” I confess. The words feel heavy but necessary. “My secret work against Goldenbell. I was effective, but I got sloppy. She followed it back to Poe’s network and then to the crew. The reason everyone’s locked up is because of me.”

I’ve never said it out loud before. The words land in the dim cabin like stones.

Render stays quiet for a long time. Long enough that the generator cycles and the owl calls again. Moonlight shifts across the floor.

“So your plan is to leave,” he says finally. “Take the laptop. Take the car. Drive into the night and fix everything alone.”

“Yes.”

“That’s the same plan that got us here,” he says softly. “You worked alone because Poe wouldn’t let you in. You kept going because you didn’t want to explain yourself. You were good at it, but reckless, and now you want to do the same thing again. Alone. Without help. Without anyone watching your back.”

I open my mouth to argue, then close it. He’s right.