Chapter 46
Sloane
The call comes after midnight. I'm awake, lying in the dark of one of the spare rooms above the clubhouse, Knox's arm heavy around my waist. The mattress is thinner than ours.
The sheets smell of detergent and someone else's cologne.
But Knox is warm against my back, and the compound is quiet.
For the first time today, the walls feel thick enough to hold.
My mind won't stop. Chicago. The Blackwell. My father.
Knox's phone buzzes on the nightstand. He shifts, thumb swiping without sitting up.
"Yeah." A pause. I feel him go still. "When?" Another pause. "We'll be ready." He hangs up. I wait. Letting him gather what he needs to say. His hand finds mine in the dark. "That was McKenzie."
My stomach clenches. "What happened?"
"Anna wants to come. To Chicago. For the walkthrough."
I sit up, pulling away. "What?"
His hand settles on my knee. "She volunteered. Wants to walk the building. Help with the layout."
"No." Sharper than I mean.
"Sloane—"
"She doesn't need to do that. We can handle the layout without her. McKenzie has blueprints. Phoenix has—"
"She wants to."
I flatten my palms against my thighs, staring at the wall. "Why would she want that?"
"McKenzie said she needs to walk through it empty. On her terms."
"She shouldn't have to."
"No. But it's her choice."
I shake my head, eyes burning. "We were too late."
Knox sits up behind me. Hands on my shoulders. "You tried," he says, voice low.
"We were too late." My voice cracks. "I got Tobias. We went back, and she was gone. They'd moved her and by the time we got there—"
"Sloane." He turns me, cups my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. "You tried to save her."
"And it got me sold," I whisper. "My father found out I tried to help her.
That's why he was going to put me in the next auction.
" His jaw hardens. He knows this. I've told him before, in pieces, on nights worse than this one.
But saying it out loud costs the same. "That's why I was at that bar. That's why I met you."
His thumb strokes once. "I know."
"I should have been smarter. Faster."
"You were twenty-four years old fighting a system built by men who buy silence for a living. You did what you could."
"I should have done more."
"You tried to save her and your father sold you for it. That's the kind of thing that would break most people. You ran instead."
I lean into his chest, cheek flat against his sternum. The heartbeat under my ear is steady. Mine isn't. "She was so young," I whisper.
"So were you."
"When do we leave?"
"Day after tomorrow. Phoenix is putting everyone on the jet. Anna and Tobias included."
"I'm scared."
"I know." His arms lock around me. "I'll be right there."
"What if she—"
"I'll be right there. Whatever happens."
Two days pass. Knox stays close. Coffee appears beside me without asking. His hand is on my back when I drift too far into my own head.
Phoenix arranges the jet. Everyone flies together. Malachi, Candace, Knox, me, Nash, East, Ruby, Frankie, Arden, Amelia, Phoenix, McKenzie, and Felix. We board first.
The cabin is cream leather and warm wood with low ceilings and seats wide enough to curl into.
Knox takes the seat beside me, arm draped along the back of mine, palm resting on my shoulder.
Malachi and Candace settle near the front, her legs tucked under her, his hand on her thigh.
East drops into a seat behind Knox, restless, checking his phone.
He texted Darla three times before we left the compound, and she told him to stop hovering from a different zip code.
Nash takes the window seat across from us, jaw tight, arms folded. Ruby drops into the seat beside him, tablet in hand, pulling up logistics. Nash's eyes cut to her. His mouth flattens.
"You don't have to do this," he says in a low voice meant only for her.
Ruby doesn't look up from the screen. "Neither do you."
"That's different."
"It's really not." She scrolls. Her knee presses against his. She doesn't move it. He doesn't either.
Nash turns away, jaw working. His arm shifts along the armrest until his forearm is flush against hers. He stares out the window the rest of the time, and Ruby drifts a fraction closer without acknowledging it.
Frankie takes the spot across the aisle from me, mug in hand, eyes shadowed.
Arden settles beside her without a word, their shoulders close.
Amelia sits near the back with Felix, posture straight, hands folded.
Phoenix and McKenzie take the couch at the rear, McKenzie's legs tucked beneath her, his hand on her knee.
The cabin door opens again, letting in a gust of tarmac wind and the murmur of voices from the ground crew.
Tobias steps in first, ducking through the frame, scanning the interior the way Knox scans every room. He nods at Phoenix, finds a seat near the back, and settles without a word.
Anna comes up the steps behind him.
I see her before she sees me. Her hair is pulled into a knot. Shoulders back. She's wearing a coat, dark and fitted, and she carries herself differently than she did in the war room. Steadier. More certain of the space she takes up.
She reaches the top of the steps and her eyes sweep the cabin. They land on me. My hands freeze in my lap. Knox's fingers grip my shoulder.
Anna stands in the doorway, backlit by tarmac light, looking at me the way you look at someone you've only seen in your worst memories and your best hopes. Her chin trembles once. Sets.
She walks down the aisle toward me. I unbuckle. Stand. My hands are shaking. We meet in the open space between the seats. Close enough to touch. The cabin is silent. The engines idle beneath us.
"Anna."
"Sloane."
The silence holds until I can hear my pulse. "I'm sorry," I say.
Her brows draw together. "For what?"
"For not getting there in time. I got Tobias. We came back as fast as we could, but you were gone—"
"Stop." She steps closer. "You tried to save me. Risked everything. You came back."
"But you were gone."
"I know. That wasn't your fault."
"My father found out," I say, barely above a whisper. "That I tried to help you. That's why he was going to sell me at the next auction."
Anna's face drains of color. "What?"
"You getting taken. Me trying to save you. That's why I ended up—" I glance back at Knox. "Why I ran."
Her breath shudders. "I never knew he was going to do that for trying to help me."
"It's not your fault. It was never your fault."
"But you tried to save me, and he was going to get rid of you for it."
"Yeah. But I'd do it again."
"What?"
"I'd try again. Even knowing what it cost."
Tears spill down Anna's cheeks. She closes the distance and pulls me into a fierce hug. Her arms lock around my shoulders, tight enough that I feel her ribs expand with every breath.
"You tried to save me," she whispers. "And it destroyed your life."
"It ended that life. But I built a new one." I step back. "So did you."
She wipes her face roughly, the heel of her palm dragging hard under each eye. "I never blamed you."
"I blamed myself for both of us."
"Stop," she says firmly. "Stop carrying guilt for trying to save me."
A shaky laugh escapes before I can catch it. "Deal."
She squeezes my hands, glances past me toward the back of the cabin.
"Tobias has carried it too. He does." I look at him.
He's in his seat, palms on the armrests, watching us.
His shoulders are rigid, jaw working, eyes holding the same weight I've been dragging for years.
"The only people who should carry blame," Anna says, "are the ones who took me.
And the ones who tried to sell you for stopping them. "
My ribs loosen. My grip eases around hers. "I've been so scared to see you."
Anna's smile is sad, one corner pulling higher than the other. "McKenzie told me. That's part of why I wanted to come. So you'd stop running from me."
I squeeze her hands. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too." Her expression shifts, jaw setting. "And I'm going to walk through that building."
"Anna—"
"I need to see it empty. I need to walk through it when I'm the one with power. When I'm the one who gets to leave." Her voice turns firm. "I need to take that back."
"I'll walk it with you."
"You sure?"
"We tried to save you then. We couldn't. But we can do this now. Together."
She squeezes once more, lets go. Anna glances back at Tobias. He's watching her from his seat, unwavering, waiting. She turns to me.
"I'm going to go sit with him."
"Yeah." I nod. "Go."
She touches my arm once, walks back down the cabin and folds into the seat beside Tobias. His hand finds her thigh the second she sits. She leans into his shoulder and closes her eyes.
Knox's arm moves from the seat back to my thigh. I settle against him.
For the rest of the flight, the cabin hums with low conversation.
Anna catches my eye a few times across the seats.
She tells me about her apartment, a cooking class she started, the dog Tobias brought home without asking.
Small things passed between us in fragments, leaning across armrests, voices soft beneath the engine noise.
Normal things. The kind of ordinary that used to feel impossible.
When the jet begins its descent into Chicago, I glance back. Anna is watching me from Tobias's shoulder. She lifts her hand. A small wave. I lift mine back.
It's enough.
We meet at The Blackwell. The building rises against the morning sky, all glass and limestone. It's the kind of building that looks respectable from the street and keeps its real business underground.
We're standing outside the east entrance. Knox is right behind me. Anna is beside me with Tobias behind her.
McKenzie approaches. "Ready?"
Anna looks at me. I look at her. "Ready," we say at the same time.
McKenzie's mouth curves. "Let's go."
The building is empty in a way that makes sound feel intrusive.