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Garrick ushers me through the door and into the dark, moody office off the entry way. The one I’ve spied Teague leaving with a scowl on his face. I may have even been in there, but the fuzzy haze that surrounds that thought is too much to process right now.

Christophe governs the space from behind the massive desk, tension rolling off of him in waves.

“Sit.”

The harsh command makes me freeze, burrowing deeper into the wool coat I’ve yet to release.

“You’re scaring her. Don’t… You have to soften your tone.”

My head whips around at the sound of Winnie’s voice. She looks like shit. Red blotchy face, eyes swollen with tears, her hands shaking almost uncontrollably. It’s like we’ve traded places.

“Winn—”

“Honeybee, you’ll have your moment to grovel but right now, Tru and I have work to do.” The harsh reprimand is in direct opposition to the way his eyes lick over her, caressing her. At any other time, it would be obscene, but something about the exchange and the way Winnie abandoned our text conversation gives me pause.

“Please, Tru. Sit.” Still all business, Christophe manages to soften it with the please, and I perch on the edge of the chair facing him. I pull my phone from where I’ve kept it in the inside pocket of the coat, close to my heart. My thumb hits the screen in the exact right spot, unlocking it to display the screen with the orange blinking light.

“Does… does the blinking stop if-if the person is no longer…if their heart does?” I can barely consider the fact that Teague might be gone, saying it out loud is entirely too much.

“I can’t answer that without knowing the specs of the specific tracker.” He plucks the proffered phone from my hand, and studies the screen before staring at me, hard. “How did he end up with the device? He told me it was for you, so he didn’t lose you again.”

“He had two. I, um, I protested being chipped like a dog⁠—”

“That’s not what it⁠—”

“I understand that, but think about how that would be received, just for a second.” Christophe’s head snaps back when I interrupt, my voice soft but strong. “But Teague knew. He knew I would have a problem with handing over complete control and was prepared to match that energy and do the same. He had everything at his fingertips to give up the same control—to offer the same vulnerability—that he was asking of me.” I glance over my shoulder at Winnie and turn back to the big, scary head of organized crime and give him all the attitude I can muster. “Now, are you going to help me find the man I love… help me find Teague?”

He huffs, lips tipping up on one side of his mouth, and pulls a sleek laptop toward him. The top is up and the screen shows a map of town with the tracking app overlaid on it. “I’ve got his location and men en route. But he wouldn’t have been taken for no reason, so why don’t you tell me what you have that this motherfucker thinks he’s entitled to.”

I push to standing, swaying a little at the sudden movement. “You know where he is? Why…why are we still here? Take me… I need⁠—”

“You need to sit your ass down and talk.” He raises a hand to stop my protest before it fully forms. “I know none of this is easy, but you have to know I have nothing but respect for you. You’re safe here under my protection, but I need to know where the file is.”

“W-what’s in it that has everyone in this town losing their m-minds?”

“It’s a list. An accounting ledger of who’s done what… Fuck, of everything. Enough to ruin everyone… who owes whom, who has dirt, and what they did. Not just body counts, but where the bodies are buried and the DNA that was left close by to frame someone when the time comes. Fucking everything.”

“I-I didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know any of it because I’ve lived way too close to the edge of death and this kind of knowledge seems like a one-way ticket six feet under. So, I didn’t. I just hid it. Kept it safe until…”

“Tru. Oh my God, you never told me. You never said anything about…”

“I couldn’t.” I turn so I can see Winnie as well as Christophe. Today isn’t a day I want my back to anyone, no matter how close we are. Something in my gut tells me I’m not going to like the explanation behind Winnie’s tears and puffy eyes. “There are a lot of reasons why, but that’s a later thing.” I turn back to Christophe. “For now, is that enough to get Teague back?”

He stands, buttoning the coat of his bespoke suit and straightening the cuffs. “There was never a minimum due for getting to Teague. Access to the app simply made things easier. The rest of this conversation can wait for now. I want to personally see to his immediate needs, and to deal with the assholes who took him. You’re to stay here, understood? Under no circumstances do either of you leave the estate, and for the love of fucks”—his attention goes straight to Winnie—“don’t talk to anyone besides each other. You have amends to make.

“Garrick, take the women to Miss Cochonette’s suite and make sure they have whatever they need to be comfortable.” Christophe stalks from the room, taking a mere fraction of the tension with him.

“What do you need to make amends for, Winn?” My shoulders are tight, back ramrod straight.

Winnie sinks deeper into the chair tucked in the corner of the office, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ladies, if you please.” Garrick sweeps a hand, inviting us to leave the dark office space behind.

We hold our silence close as we follow him through the hallways toward what was supposed to be my suite in this gilded prison. But I never spent the night in the beautifully appointed room. Instead, I clung to Teague and the safety I felt only with him.

With the promise of a food delivery, Garrick takes his leave, securing us in the bright and delicate set of rooms. Some of the clothes Teague bought for me hang in the closet of the bedroom, the throw I spent so much time wrapped up in is folded across the arm of the sofa. But without Teague here, everything is foreign and uninviting.

I sit in the chair closest to the fire and wait for Winnie to take her seat.