Page 46 of Carver’s Crusade

I stare at him, caught between disbelief and the dangerous warmth spreading through my chest.

“You can’t guarantee that,” I whisper.

“Yes, I can.”

The certainty in his tone steals every argument from my tongue.

He glances toward the hallway before looking back at me. “Finishing packing. You’re staying at the clubhouse until we find him.”

The clubhouse.

The thought should terrify me, but somehow it feels safer than standing in my own apartment waiting for Tony to appear.

“I don’t—”

“You won’t be alone,” Carver says firmly.

A soft voice cuts in from the doorway. “I’ll help her finish.”

Min steps beside me, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Carver nods once. “Good. We leave in twenty minutes.”

Min grabs the pile of t-shirts and folds them. The apartment feels too small tonight, crowded with silence and things left unsaid. I shove another pair of socks into the side pocket just to give my hands something to do.

I feel Min watching me long before she finally speaks.

“You know what happened the night you were attacked. You also know why he’s after you.”

My fingers freeze around my hairbrush.

The words settle heavily between us.

Slowly, I look up. Min has her arms loosely crossed over her chest, her expression calm yet impossibly sharp. She already knows the answer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter.

“Raven.”

Just my name. Soft. Patient. Somehow worse than if she pushed.

I look away first.

Min sighs quietly. “Why haven’t you told Shield?”

A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Because Shield already told me Tony’s friends gave him an alibi.” I shove my underwear into the bag harder than necessary. “What’s the point? A bunch of men says Tony was somewhere else, and suddenly my word means nothing.”

Min’s brows pull together. “So you decided that for him?”

“That’s how it works.” My chest tightens as I speak. “Most cops don’t believe women. Especially when the guy has people willing to back him up.”

The words taste ugly because they’re true. Because experience has taught me exactly how quickly doubt appears in people’s eyes when a woman speaks up.

Min places her hand on my arm to still me. “Shield isn’t most cops.”

I don’t answer.

“He’s a Demon Dawg first,” she says firmly. “A cop second.”