Page 66 of Vows of Ruin

I shrug. “Just add it to the list.”

He kisses my lips, softly.

Max comes to stand beside me, his jaw clenched, eyes still tracking everything.

“I should’ve been there,” he mutters.

“No,” I say, grabbing his hand. “You were exactly where you needed to be. And I’m still standing.”

He kisses the top of my head.

“Now,” I say, straightening. “Let’s help these kids.”

We got them out. We gave them a chance. Now it’s time to show them what hope feels like.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Wrenley

Our safe house feels different now. Softer somehow. There are warm lights glowing in the hallways. The sound of water running. Girls wrapped in blankets, some asleep, some wide-eyed and shell-shocked. Elias found a playlist of soft piano music that hums quietly in the background. Doc moves from one person to the next like she’s running triage in a war zone made of ghosts.

I’m sitting on the arm of the couch when she finds me, gently pulling me aside near the hallway.

“It’s been a couple of hours,” she says. “I’ve checked everyone except the girl who’s been clinging to Wrecker since they got here.”

My eyes slide across the room to where they’re still seated, her small frame wrapped around his massive arm like it’s a lifeline.

“She won’t let me touch her,” Doc says gently. “Won’t speak. Just keeps holding on to him.”

I nod toward the couch. “Do you see anything wrong from here? Bruises? Pupils?”

Doc shakes her head. “She doesn’t look drugged. If she was, it’s worn off. No obvious injuries, either. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing.”

I exhale slowly. “Maybe I can get her to take a bath.”

She nods toward the hallway. “Take her to the master bathroom. It’s quieter.”

As if on cue, Margot walks in, her arms overflowing with boxes of clean clothes in every size she could get her hands on.

“I found everything from leggings to oversized sweatshirts,” she says, dropping them onto the hallway bench. “If this isn’t healing, I don’t know what is.”

I cross the room and kneel in front of the girl. She looks so small next to Wrecker, curled into him like she’s trying to disappear inside his shadow.

I give her a soft smile. “Hi. My name’s Wrenley. How about a hot bath, sweetheart?”

She doesn’t answer at first. Just looks up at Wrecker with those huge, haunted eyes.

“Will you stay with me?” she whispers.

Wrecker nods without hesitation. “I’ll be right outside the bathroom door the whole time.”

That seems to be enough. She nods once, barely, and then unpeels herself from his arm. We walk to the master bedroom. I gently nudge the bathroom door open, but before I can close it behind us, she flinches.

“Please don’t shut the door,” she says quietly.

I freeze. “Okay. I won’t.”

I turn to look at Wrecker, and he nods, taking his place outside the door, his back leaning against the frame, a wall of calm. His arms are crossed, but his eyes are scanning the bedroom, watching, guarding. I leave the door open.