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Rurik turned away from the highway sometime after midnight. The road narrowed beneath the trees until there were no streetlights, houses, or signs telling me how far he had taken me. Darkness pressed against the windows, leaving only our reflections trapped inside the glass.

Mine looked unfamiliar. Fear had hollowed my eyes, while anger held my mouth rigid. Somewhere during the drive, the life reflected back at me had become an inheritance claimed by a woman I had never met.

I stopped asking where we were going. The answer wouldn’t return me to Cian, and Rurik had already proven he would carry my hatred as far as necessary to keep me safe.

Wherever the road ended, I wouldn’t remain there. I would hear my father’s voice, learn that he had survived, and reclaim every choice Sylvia and Rurik believed danger had taken from me.

Then I would go home.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The safe house sat at the end of a narrow road with no neighboring lights and no sign that anyone had ever stayed long enough to leave a mark. Rurik drove past it once, then circled back to check the woods and the empty road behind us. By the time he eased the SUV into the garage, fury was the only thing holding me upright.

I shoved open the passenger door before the engine died. My legs nearly folded when my feet hit the concrete, but I caught the door and forced myself to stand. The cool ground pressed against one bare sole, my missing shoe left somewhere amid the gunfire. Cian was in a Boston hospital, and I was hours away because another man had decided I was not entitled to choose where I went or whom I left behind.

“Take me back.” My voice scraped against a throat made raw from screaming at him during the drive. “I don’t care what you think is waiting for me. Cian’s hurt, and I am not staying here while he⁠—”

“He was alive when we left.” Rurik closed his door and came around the front of the vehicle. He didn’t reach for me, though his gaze moved over me and the tremor I couldn’t control. “He was conscious when they took him upstairs.”

“That isn’t good enough.” I backed away when he came closer. “You don’t get to decide what should be good enough for me. You don’t get to throw me into a car, drive me out of Boston, and call it protection because your reasons matter more than my consent.”

His expression didn’t change, but something tightened around his eyes. “I know.”

The quiet answer struck harder than an argument. I wanted him to defend himself so I could tear apart every excuse, but he accepted the accusation and left me holding the weight of it.

“Open the garage.” I pointed toward the closed door. “Give me the keys.”

Rurik reached inside his coat and held out a phone. “Call Cian.”

I stared at the black device in his palm. “Is this supposed to make me trust you?”

“No. It’s supposed to let you hear his voice.” He extended his hand farther. “The phone is secure. His number is already entered.”

I snatched it from him and stepped back before he could mistake acceptance for surrender. One contact waited on the screen. I pressed it, lifted the phone to my ear, and listened to the ringing while my heart beat hard enough to hurt.

He answered on the third ring. “Maddie?”

The sound of his voice took the strength from my knees. I leaned against the SUV, fighting a sob so violent it nearly stole my ability to speak. He sounded exhausted and medicated, but alive. Beneath his breathing, hospital equipment kept time in faint, steady beeps.

“I’m here.” Tears spilled before I could stop them. “Are you all right? Tell me the truth, Dad. Don’t tell me whatever you think will keep me calm.”

“I’m going to be fine.” He paused for a careful breath, and the effort made the reassurance less convincing. “Where are you? Caity said Rurik took you. Sal has men checking every road out of Boston.”

I looked toward Rurik. He had moved to the interior door and turned his back, giving me privacy without pretending he was not responsible for where I stood. “I don’t know exactly,” I admitted. “Somewhere outside New York, I think. I’m safe.”

“Safe isn’t the same as home.” Pain roughened Cian’s voice. “Tell Rurik to bring you back. Whatever he thinks he’s protecting you from, we can handle it here.”

“No.” The refusal left me before I understood I had chosen it. Returning was what I wanted, but the image of armed men closing in on us in Boston stayed too sharp. “Not yet. I need to understand what’s happening before anyone else bleeds because of me.”

“None of this is because of you.”

“Everyone keeps saying that while they end up in hospital beds or graves.” My voice broke. I closed my eyes. “Is Mom there?”

“She’s here.” His answer softened. “She needs to know you’re safe.”

“Tell her.” I couldn’t speak to Mom yet. I couldn’t hear relief in her voice without remembering every truth she had withheld, and there was no room left inside me for another kind of pain. “I’ll call again. I promise.”

Cian was quiet for several seconds. “Every day, Maddie. I need to hear from you every day.”