Page 62 of Break Me

“And Mouse?” I add.

He looks at me.

“If she asks,” I pause. “Don’t tell her what’s coming.”

Mouse’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile. “You know she’s going to figure it out anyway.”

“I know. But it’ll buy me time,” I say as I turn toward my truck.

Mouse calls after me, “You do this, and there’s no pretending you’re just the VP who fucked up.”

I pause, hand on the door.

“I stopped pretending a long time ago,” I say.

Then I’m moving.

Because distance won’t save her, and if Ridgeback thinks she’s leverage, they’re about to learn what a mistake that is.

Raven

Mouse is the last person I expect to see leaning against my car. Which is exactly why my stomach drops the second I spot him.

“Don’t even start,” I say as I approach, keys clenched between my fingers. “If this is about my brother, tell him to⁠—”

“Get in,” Mouse says.

I stop short. “Excuse me?”

He straightens, eyes scanning the lot before coming back to me. He’s calm—too calm. “Wolf asked me to take you somewhere.”

Where is he?” I demand.

Mouse doesn’t answer.

“That’s not an answer.” I cross my arms. “And I don’t get into cars with men who won’t tell me where they’re taking me.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “He said you’d say that.”

“I swear to God, if this is some half-baked plan that ends with him bleeding and me sitting in the dark like an idiot⁠—”

Mouse doesn’t let me finish.

“Keys,” he says quietly, holding out his hand.

I stare at him. “I can drive myself.”

“Not tonight,” he replies. “And not where we’re going.”

Something in his tone alarms me. I drop my keys into his palm.

“If you wreck my car,” I mutter, “I’m haunting all of you.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Fair.”

I don’t even wait for him to pull out of the lot before shifting in my seat. “Where’s Wolf? And don’t say ‘busy’ or ‘handling something,’ because that’s bullshit.”

Mouse keeps his eyes on the road as he eases us forward. “He’s where he needs to be.”