Page 160 of Override

I clear my throat and keep my eyes on the road.

Do not acknowledge it. If I acknowledge it, I'll overanalyze it. If I overanalyze it, I'll start counting. If I start counting...

I'm already counting. Two taps. Pause. Two taps. Pause.

My fingers drum softly against the steering wheel before I force them still.

This is fine. Everything is—No. Nothing about this is fine.

I went rogue. I ignored Matt. I ignored the plan. I ignored every rule Grayline had spent years building. And I let Bullet know I know about his house.

He's going to be furious when he realizes I've known about it since the day Coleman walked him around the property.

To be fair…Bullet should've expected I'd find it.

He bought land. I like maps. It was practically inevitable.

Beside me, Maeve shifts in her seat. The movement pulls me back to the present.

Only then do I realize she's still holding my hand.

She must notice it at the exact same moment. Her fingers loosen just enough that I think she's going to pull away.

Instead…She simply changes her grip, sliding her hand more comfortably against mine.

Like she'd decided letting go would be harder.

My chest does something profoundly inconvenient.

"Taibhse?" Her voice is quiet. Fragile.

I glance toward her for the briefest second before looking back at the road. "Yeah?"

The single syllable comes out rougher than I intended.

She looks out the windshield, her fingers tightening around mine again. "Where are we going?"

The answer comes immediately. Not because I'd rehearsed it. Because there isn't another one. "Somewhere safe."

She nods once. No questions. No hesitation. No demand for my real name or where I was taking her. She lets the answer be enough.

The trust settles heavier across my shoulders than any rucksack I'd ever carried.

I don't deserve it. Not yet.

The road stretches out ahead of us, disappearing into the darkness.

For the first time in three days, I can actually see her.

Not through a camera. Not through a hacked phone. Not reflected in a security monitor.

She's here. Breathing. Safe.

***

The farther we get from the Gallagher estate, the quieter the world becomes.

Streetlights give way to long stretches of empty road. The city disappears behind us until the only sounds left are the tires humming across asphalt and the occasional chorus of frogs hidden somewhere beyond the tree line.