Chapter 85
Carter
The cabin felt smaller with Sable in it, his presence like poison in the air. Every word out of his mouth was designed to cut, to rattle, to dig under the skin. And the worst part was, it was working.
Not on me. On Harper.
I could feel her behind me, silent, still—but I knew the weight of those words was pressing into her chest. Redwood. Leverage. Hunted.
I kept my back square to her, my body between them, my rifle angled down at him. If he so much as blinked wrong, I’d make sure he regretted breathing.
River was the first to move, crossing to the table with a grim expression. “We can’t hold him here. He’s too connected. The longer he’s alive, the more they’ll send after him—and us.”
“Agreed,” Cyclone rumbled from the doorway. “We move him to the bunker. He won’t last long in local custody, and you know it.”
Gideon didn’t look up from his laptop, but his voice was sharp. “If he’s telling the truth about Redwood, we can’t afford to lose him yet. Every second we keep him breathing is a chance to tear into the network.”
I ground my teeth, the storm in me rising again. Every instinct I had screamed to end it now. To cut out the rot before it spread further. But every time I looked at Harper, I knew that wasn’t enough.
Killing him wouldn’t erase her name. It wouldn’t erase the threat.
I crouched in front of him, close enough for him to see the fire in my eyes. “You’re not in control here. You don’t set the pace. You don’t dictate the game. From this point forward, every second you live is because I allow it. Understand?”
Sable’s smirk faltered. Just slightly. But I caught it.
River’s voice cut through, practical, commanding. “We transport him at dawn. Double guard rotation until then. Gideon, scrub his accounts tonight. Cyclone, set the route.”
I stood, straightening to my full height, and glanced back at Harper. Her eyes met mine, wide but steady. She didn’t look broken. She looked like someone who had heard the truth and was still standing.
I gave her the smallest nod, a silent vow: I’ve got this. I’ve got you.
And for the first time since stepping into that warehouse, I felt like maybe—just maybe—we had the upper hand.