Chapter Twenty-Six
LUKE
After practice, I drove straight to Mila’s.
The sun bled out across the horizon, orange streaks drowning in the Pacific.
By the time I pulled into her street, shadows stretched long over cracked sidewalks, the cul-de-sac hushed in that way neighborhoods got when everyone was inside pretending life was normal and not a struggle to make ends meet.
Her mom’s car wasn’t in the drive. Again.
Mila answered barefoot, leggings and an oversized tee enveloping her frame. Her dark hair was loose, slipping over one shoulder, eyes rimmed with fatigue but steady. She gave me a small smile—brave but worn at the edges—and stepped aside.
The house smelled faintly of cold coffee and laundry detergent, like someone had started things but never finished.
We ended up on the couch, cushions sagging under us.
She tucked her legs beneath her, curling into the corner.
I stretched an arm along the back, and when she leaned into me, the world went still.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, thumbed it open, and handed it to her. The PI file on Darren Langley glowed against the dim light, stark black text cutting through the shadows. “Here.”
I handed her the report and stayed on the numbers. I didn’t open the still. Not yet. A blur wasn’t proof—it was a weapon that hit the wrong person.
She scrolled in silence. Her eyes moved fast, tension flickering across her face, mouth pressed thin.
Transaction logs. Timelines. Bank names and dates in neat columns.
Then she hit the last section—several large payments from Dunn Industries leading up to that night, then Darren Langley’s house sold, the deposit.
And then—the sudden stop of all financial data.
Her breath hitched. Her voice came low, barely holding. “So that’s it? No record of him elsewhere after that night?”
“No. Nothing. He doesn’t surface anywhere.” I leaned in, tapping the line with my finger. “The house sold. Proceeds went straight into his account. And not a single withdrawal since.”
She lifted her head, eyes darker than the room. “So, he’s dead, and that’s a cover-up.”
“Or hiding.”
“Luke.” Her fingers hovered over the screen, trembling.
“I know what I saw. He has to be dead. And this”—she jabbed at the phone, sharp, frustration bleeding out—“could all be someone’s way of making sure we never prove it.
” Mila’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe his killer doesn’t want Darren found.
Dead or alive. If he vanishes, so does the evidence tying back to him. ”
I held her gaze. “Yeah.”
The silence stretched. She didn’t move. Finally, she sagged back against the couch, the phone slipping into her lap.
“I thought I wanted answers. I thought I needed them. But now… I don’t know.”
“We’re in this together.”
She let out a shaky breath, her head tipping sideways until her temple pressed against my shoulder. “That’s what I’m afraid of—that we’ll find out something we can’t come back from.”
I reached over and threaded my fingers through hers. Her grip tightened like a lifeline, grounding us both.
“Then we don’t go back,” I said. “We build forward.”
Her eyes glistened. A silence pressed between us heavy enough to feel. Finally, she whispered, “I want to believe you.”
“Then do.”
She studied me for a long beat. I could feel her pulse racing through her fingers, but she nodded. “Okay.”
And sitting there, her hand warm in mine, the PI’s report still lit between us, it didn’t feel as though we were circling wreckage anymore. It felt as if we were building something that might actually last. Even if the foundation was cracked.
Her head stayed against my shoulder. She didn’t fall asleep, not fully, but her weight eased something in me. Her breathing slowed, steadier, even as her hand clung on, as though letting go might split the ground beneath us.
The PI’s file had burned lines of text etched into my head. Darren’s name. Last traceable the night Mila swore he died. House sold. Proceeds deposited. And then nothing—no sightings, no calls, no slip-ups.
A man doesn’t vanish clean—not unless he wants to. Or unless someone makes him. If Darren was hiding, he was damn good at it. If he was dead, then someone had gone to a lot of trouble to bury the proof. Either way, we were chasing a ghost.
And ghosts didn’t move alone. Not this one. Dunn’s money in Langley’s account pointed one way—Langley was feeding Dunn intel while he worked at King Enterprises. Not only that, but Dunn’s daughter was already playing her own games, pushing until someone broke.
Elise—her fingerprints were all over Avery being slipped a drug last night.
Dunn had to know. My father knew because I’d told him who was behind it.
Elise’s dad wasn’t blind, no matter how many meetings he buried himself in.
Which left two possibilities: he’d sanctioned it, or he was letting Elise spin out on purpose.
Either way, she was still dangerous. And to Dunn, the end justified the means.
I thought about Chase. He’d shown up to school this morning, but it had taken all of us to pull him back before he went after Elise—to keep him steady in her crosshairs.
Jax stood at Avery’s side, as solid as stone. Theo flanked them, silent but unmovable. Mila blocked whenever Elise drifted too close, her voice enough to keep the wolves back. And me—I drove the truth into Chase until he couldn’t dodge it, and Elise’s smoke had nowhere to catch.
Chase hadn’t forgiven us. Not by a long shot. But he’d stayed in the circle. And for now, that was enough.
We’d moved as one, forming armor around Avery. Every rumor died before it could breathe, every whisper shut down with a look. Elise hadn’t liked it. I’d caught her watching, eyes glittering, phone in her hand as though she was already setting her next fire.
We’d won the day. Barely. But tomorrow—?
Mila shifted against me, eyes closed, lashes brushing my sleeve. I bent my head and pressed a kiss into her hair. She deserved a world without shadows chasing her. A world where truth didn’t cut her open.
But I couldn’t give her that. Not yet. What I could do was hold the line. Keep the walls up until we knew who was trying to tear them down.
Darren. Elise. Dunn. Lorne. Too many names, too many cracks in a foundation we were still pretending was solid. And if it all broke—then I’d keep my promise. I would build something new with her. Out of ruins if I had to.