Page 66 of Break Me

“She’s safe,” I say, firm.

Knox’s head snaps toward me. “What?”

“I got her away,” I continue, every word deliberate. “Before they made a move. Mouse has her.”

His breath stutters. His hands curl into fists again, but this time they shake. “Where?”

“My place,” I say. “I bought a small cabin outside of town. It’s quiet. Hidden. No one but me knows about it.”

Bishop exhales sharply behind us. Diesel mutters a curse.

Knox stares at me like he’s deciding whether I’m a threat he needs to put down or the only reason his sister is still breathing. “You took her,” he says. “Without telling me.”

“I didn’t have time. Waiting would’ve gotten her killed,” I answer. “And I wasn’t willing to gamble her life on timing.”

Silence stretches. Heavy. Loaded.

Finally, Knox drags a hand down his face. “She okay?”

The question breaks something open in him.

“She’s scared,” I say honestly. “But she’s unharmed. She’s breathing. She’s alive.”

He turns away, bending slightly at the waist, like the air was just punched out of his lungs. When he straightens, his eyes are furious and burning with something close to shame.

“They were going to use her to get to me,” he says.

“Yes.”

A long beat passes. “Then this just became a war,” he says.

I meet his stare, unflinching. “It already was.”

And somewhere miles away, Raven is breathing under a roof I chose for her. Which means whatever comes next? They go through me first. Because now that I have her, I’m not letting her go.

Raven

The car slows before it stops.

There are no streetlights. No neighbors. There are only trees and the steady rush of water somewhere nearby.

Mouse kills the engine and finally looks at me.

“We’re here.”

I don’t answer right away. My pulse is loud in my ears, every instinct split between wanting to bolt back toward town and needing to know where Samuel is right now.

“You going to tell me what’s happening?” I ask, trying to make my voice steadier than I feel. “Or am I just supposed to trust you and sit quietly while everyone else decides my life?”

Mouse exhales through his nose, jaw tight. It’s clear he’s not going to answer me.

I open the door and step out. A brown wood cottage with a low roof sits tucked into the trees, like it grew there instead of being built. A single warm light glows through the front window.

Something inside loosens.

He left the light on.

The realization settles deep, warm, and aching all at once. He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve left the place dark. Instead, he made sure it was waiting for me.