Page 91 of Lennox Lane

At the kitchen island, she made coffee she barely drank. Then she picked up her phone. There were seven missed texts from Jeanette’s rotating numbers. Lane didn’t read them all. She didn’t need to. She opened the most recent thread and typed before she could talk herself out of it.

Me: I’ll meet you today at 3 PM. Send the address.

Her thumb hovered over send. Lennox’s voice moved through her mind. Don’t handle this by yourself. Lane swallowed. Then she hit send. The message delivered.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then the typing bubbles appeared. Lane’s heart kicked once, hard. A reply came through from the unknown number.

Unknown: I knew you’d come around.

Lane’s grip tightened around the phone when another message followed.

Unknown: 3 PM. Don’t bring nobody.

Then an address popped up, and Lane stared at it until the numbers burned into memory. The girl she’d been at seventeen would’ve been afraid. The woman she was now was afraid but fear had never stopped Lane Sanders from showing up. It had only taught her to come prepared.

She locked the phone, set it facedown on the counter, and looked toward the bright morning waiting beyond her kitchen window. Then she smiled. Not soft. Not sweet. She was problem, waking up.

“Okay, Jeanette,” she whispered. “Let’s talk.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

SUBMISSION IS POWER

Lennox woke up reaching for Lane, but his hands only found cool sheets. For half a second, his mind rejected the information as sleep still clung to the edges of him, soft and stubborn, trying to pull him back into the warmth of the night before. Memories of them laughing at a diner over their shared hatred of breakfast eggs, like God had personally handed him his perfect companion.

Then his eyes opened fully, and the other side of the bed was, in fact, empty. Her scent was still in the pillow. Her hat was gone from the dresser, her shoes missing by the wall, and her phone wasn’t on the nightstand.

Lane was gone, making Lennox sit up slowly as fear settled into his bones, sharp and immediate. Anger showed up next, coming in hot enough to burn every soft thing he’d gone to sleep holding. She’d promised to trust him to help when it came to her mother. She said he could stand beside her to support her, only to wait until he was asleep to face Jeanette alone. Lennox threw the covers back and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

There were no messages from Lane, who had a hard head and a soft wound dressed up as independence. He stood, already pulling up the security feed from his driveway. The timestamp showed her leaving just after dawn, sneakers in hand, quiet as a damn thief. He fast-forwarded and watched her pause at the front door as she looked back toward the stairs.

That pause was the only reason his anger didn’t become something uglier. She’d almost stayed. Then she left anyway.

“Lane,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

His next call went to Jalen, his second-in-command at Ledger Security. Jalen answered on the second ring, voice rough with sleep but alert underneath it.

“Boss?”

“Meet me at the address I’m sending you.”

There was a pause, then movement on Jalen’s end. “Threat?”

“Personal.”

That was enough for Jalen. He didn’t ask stupid questions, just ones that assessed threats. “How many bodies?”

“Hopefully one breathing long enough to answer questions.”

“Copy.”

Lennox sent the address before Jalen could say anything else. The address wasn’t new to him; he’d found it when he first dug into Jeanette Sanders and the threats against Lane. He’d told himself he was gathering intel to make sure he knew where danger lived if it came for her.

Now danger had sent Lane an invitation. And Lane, because her survival instincts had been built in a house where love had teeth, had gone alone. Lennox moved fast as he showered and dressed in all black, securing his gun beneath his jacket. He made sure to get everything he needed, including a lock-picking kit; he didn’t expect to use it, but he never left it behind. By the time he hit the road, Jalen had already texted.

Jalen: Ten minutes out. Want quiet or loud?

Me: Quiet until it isn’t.