Chapter 72 Morgan
Morgan
The silence after the knock was worse than the knock itself.
Ruby’s bedroom door creaked open, just a sliver, her wide eyes gleaming in the dark. “Morgan?” Her whisper cracked.
“Stay inside,” I hissed, motioning sharply.
“But—”
“Now.”
Her door clicked shut again, the lock snicking into place, but I knew she was pressed up against it, listening. She’d always been like that—braver than she realized, but not stupid enough to leave me alone in the hall.
Another knock. Slow. Patient.
I tightened my grip on the pistol, my palms damp. My breath fogged in the cool air near the door, every nerve tuned to the voice I prayed wouldn’t come again.
It did.
“Morgan. You know how this ends.”
My stomach twisted. Damn, I was hoping I was wrong about him saying my name. He knew me.
I forced myself to sound steady, even as my voice scraped raw. “You need to leave.”
A chuckle slipped through the wood, low and mocking. “Not without you. You’ve been busy, sweetheart. Leaving a trail where there shouldn’t be one. My employer is very curious about you.”
My blood went cold. Luthor. It had to be.
I pressed my back to the wall, the pistol raised, the barrel shaking just slightly. “You don’t know what you’re walking into,” I warned. “The team—”
“Oh, I know about the team.” The voice sharpened, more amused. “They’re busy tonight, aren’t they? Miles away, kicking over the wrong nest. Which means it’s just you, little sister, and me.”
A thud rattled the door, hard enough to make the frame shudder. Ruby yelped behind her bedroom door, muffling the sound with her hand.
My heart slammed against my ribs. He was testing the locks. Testing me.
I leveled the pistol, aiming at the center of the door, breath steadying the way Damian had taught me. I didn’t care if my hands shook—I only needed to hold the line long enough.
“Damian,” I whispered, not into a phone, not into a recorder—just into the air. “Please hurry.”
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure the locks would hold.