Chapter Thirty-Four
FROM THE COVER of the trees, I stayed where I’d dropped back into the shadows, the weight of the gun still steady in my hand even though the shot had already been taken, my focus locked on the clearing as the agents closed in around Evie and Ruby, their lights cutting through the dark in sweeps that made everything too visible, too exposed, every movement tracked, every angle covered, and I didn’t move, couldn’t, not without stepping straight into their line of sight and turning this into something it didn’t need to be, something that would end with cuffs instead of answers, and as much as every part of me pushed against that, as much as it scraped raw under my skin to stand here and watch instead of stepping in, I held it.
My eyes stayed on her as they moved her forward, the agents speaking to her in a tone I couldn’t hear from this distance, controlled and measured, like they were already shifting her from threat to witness, and I tracked every second of it, every step she took, every look she gave the men around her, every flicker of movement that might tell me something I needed to know.
She looked back once, not at them, but at the trees, at where I’d been, and my grip tightened for a second before I forced it to ease, forcing myself to stay still, to stay gone, because if she could see me, even for that moment, then someone else could too, and the last thing she needed right now was to be tied to me in any way that mattered.
Movement at the front pulled my attention, and I shifted just enough to get a better angle through the brush, my gaze landing on the man stepping in close to them, the one calling the shots, the one the others adjusted around without question.
Tom Montgomery.
The name still sat wrong in my head, tied to something that didn’t belong anywhere near this, and as I watched him speak to them, watched the way he listened without interrupting but didn’t miss a thing, I could see it clear as anything, he wasn’t sloppy, wasn’t guessing, and that made him a problem.
Because she was alive, and that mattered more than anything else.
Not immediate.
But later? Yeah. Definitely.
The agents shifted again, tightening around them and guiding them forward now instead of just holding them in place, and something in my chest pulled hard at that, instinct kicking in again, louder this time, pushing at me to move, to go, to not let her disappear into something I couldn’t reach, but I forced it down, forced it back into line, because this wasn’t the Fire Dragons dragging her into a hole, this wasn’t something I had to tear apart to fix.
This was different. Safer. Even if I didn’t like it. Even if I didn’t trust it.
“They’re taking them in,” someone murmured from behind me, easing in just enough to be heard without being seen.
“I know,” I muttered, my eyes never leaving her.
We watched as they moved her out of the clearing, past the edge of the trees and toward the line of vehicles hidden just beyond, the flashing lights lower now, more controlled, the chaos shifting into something organized, contained, handled, and my grip loosened slowly as she disappeared from view, swallowed up by shadows and headlights and men with badges I didn’t trust, though I stayed there a second longer anyway, staring at the space she’d just been in like I could force it to give her back.
“She’s safe,” the same voice said quietly.
“Some good things came out of this,” Devil said, watching the agents pack up. “We didn’t get our hands too dirty. And now we know a fed was nosing in our business.”
“This is gonna break Brenda,” Bolt said, running his hand down his face.
I exhaled slow, my gaze finally shifting as I tracked the perimeter, the agents, the patterns in their movement, the way they were locking this down and how long they’d hold it, already working it out in my head before I pushed back from the tree.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, slinging the gun back into place and started circling wider through the woods.
Because there was no version of this where I let her out of my sight for long.
Not now.
Not after almost losing her.