Chapter 32
Roque
M orning came too soon.
The alarm on my phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, just loud enough to pull me from sleep. I reached out blindly and silenced it, careful not to wake Sayla.
She was still curled against me, one leg hooked over mine, her face was relaxed, and her hair spilled across the pillow. I watched her for a moment longer, committing it to memory.
Everything we’d been through had narrowed down to this: she was safe, and I wasn’t taking that for granted.
Eventually, I eased out of bed, kissing her shoulder before heading to shower and get dressed. By the time we were ready to leave, the sun was just starting to stretch across the sky, painting the world in pale gold.
Someone had gotten car seats for the kids that morning—no one said who, but I suspected it was Keir or Judd. Either way, it soothed something in me that had been raw the night before. Driving around with Kairo and Kaida unprotected had knotted something tight in my chest. Seeing them strapped in properly, warm in their blankets, and still drowsy from sleep, I could finally relax.
Sayla sat beside me in the front passenger seat, quiet but calm. She reached over and rested her hand on my thigh, a silent reassurance that grounded me more than words could.
Kai and Judd followed in the second vehicle behind us. Keir had already gone ahead and prepped the meeting space and checked security.
We weren’t heading into some cold, fluorescent office building. The meeting wasn’t being held at a courthouse or government facility. It was happening at the Townsend family ranch—a spread of homes and barns scattered across a large stretch of land just outside Piersville. It’d be private, secure, and safe. It was the kind of place where secrets could be spoken freely, and protection wasn’t just implied, it was enforced.
Hurst’s family had owned the land for generations. Most of the Townsends still lived on or near it, and they knew how to keep things quiet. If you trusted anyone in a shituation, you trusted a Townsend.
And we did trust them.
Ned and Hurst were solid people—good men who’d stood firm even when things around them bent or broke. They weren’t perfect, but they were steady. And right now, that was everything.
We pulled past the familiar white split-rail fence, tires crunching softly over gravel. A few black SUVs were already parked in front of the main house, but the porch light caught my attention—warm, welcoming, already on like someone had been waiting for us.
This wasn’t some sterile government office. It was the Townsend family ranch—wide open land, scattered houses, and the kind of quiet that felt safe in a way nothing else had for days. It was where Hurst had grown up and where his family still lived. More importantly, it would be where Sayla and the kids would beprotected.
The front door opened as we climbed out of the SUV, and Hurst stepped onto the porch, the morning light catching the lines in his weathered face. He didn’t smile, but I could see the relief etched into his features when his eyes landed on Sayla and the kids.
“Sayla,” he greeted, crossing the porch quickly. “God, it’s good to see you guys. I’ve been pacing since the second I heard you were found.”
Sayla managed a tired smile. “Hey, Hurst.”
He looked past her at the SUV as Imogen helped the kids out, Kaida still wrapped in her blanket, clinging to Sayla’s old sweatshirt. Kairo gave a shy little wave.
“There they are,” Hurst said softly, crouching to their eye level. “You two scared us all half to death.”
Kairo nodded solemnly. “I’m sowwy.”
“It’s not your fault, buddy,” Hurst replied with a wink, then looked up at Sayla. “Lindee’s already got cookies cooling in the kitchen. She’s got juice boxes, crayons, movies—basically, every distraction she uses to keep our grandkids happy when they’re over. If it’s alright with you, they can go run wild in the sunroom for a bit.”
Sayla blinked, the tension in her shoulders loosening just slightly. “That would actually be amazing.”
Then, as she glanced down at the kids, her expression shifted. “Would it be okay if I gave them a bath first? We managed to get them washed off in the shower at Imogen’s, but they hate showers—they only like baths.”
“Absolutely,” Hurst agreed without hesitation. He looked over his shoulder and called inside, “Lindee!”
His wife appeared a moment later, her apron already dusted with flour, her silver-streaked hair tied back, and a kind smile lighting up her face.
“These babies need a proper bath and the king and queen treatment,” Hurst told her. “You mind helping Sayla out?”
Lindee smiled warmly. “I thought you’d never ask. C’mon, sweethearts,” she motioned the kids and Sayla inside. “I’ll get the good towels and those fancy dinosaur bubble bath fizzing things I hoard for when the grandkids stay. Hurst tries to steal them if I don’t keep an eye on them.”
Sayla looked at me, eyes soft with gratitude, and mouthed thank you before following Lindee into the house with Kaida on her hip and Kairo gripping her hand.
Ned stepped onto the porch just then, hands tucked into the pockets of a worn jacket. He gave me a look that said he’d been keeping tabs on every damn detail, even if he hadn’t been in the room.
“Glad they’re here,” he said quietly. “We’ve been ready.”
“I can tell,” I replied, watching the door swing shut behind Sayla and the kids.
Ned gave me a look—one that was part governor, part old friend. “Let’s talk.”
I nodded once.
And just like that, it was time to move from safety to strategy.
Sayla
The moment I stepped inside the Townsend house, something in me started to unravel in a good way. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla hit me immediately, wrapping around me like a hug. The warmth and lived-in feel of the place all reminded me of what home shouldfeel like.
Kaida was quiet in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder and her thumb in her mouth, which I rarely saw her do. Kairo clung to my hand, his little legs working double-time to keep up, but he didn’t complain.
Lindee led us down a wide hallway, her voice gentle and cheery, like she’d already decided we were part of the family. “Bathroom’s just back here, sweetheart. It has a big tub, and the hot water works better than any fancy hotel. You’re gonna love it.”
The bathroom looked like something out of a cozy farmhouse magazine—clean white tile, polished wooden cabinets, and a clawfoot tub that practically begged to be filled with bubbles. Lindee already had towels laid out, fresh sets of pajamas folded on the counter, and a basket full of colorful bath toys on the edge of the tub.
“I hope dinosaurs and sea animals are still a hit?” she asked, opening a jar filled with bath fizzers shaped like turtles and pterodactyls.
“They’ll love it.” I blinked hard against the sudden sting in my eyes. “Thank you, I mean it.”
She reached over and touched my arm, warm and steady. “You don’t need to thank me, honey. You’re home now.”
The wordhomecaught me off guard. I hadn’t thought how much I missed that one thing since everything had gone sideways. But maybe—for today—it could be this until we decided what we were going to do next.
I got the water running while Lindee helped. Kaida perked up the second she saw the tub filling, pointing and squealing around her thumb.
“She’s a bath girl, huh?” Lindee asked with a laugh.
I smiled. “Big time. Showers are the enemy.”
Kaida was already squirming in my arms, her little legs kicking in excitement. I stripped her down and set her in the warm water. Kairo climbed in next to her, and the second they were both in, they relaxed like they’d been holding tension in their tiny bodies just as long as I had in mine.
Lindee handed me one of the fizzy tablets, and I dropped it in. It sizzled and fizzed, turning the water a bright sea foam green. Kairo’s eyes lit up, and Kaida started splashing immediately.
I sat on a stool beside the tub, rolling up my sleeves, and justwatchedthem. For the first time in what felt like forever, they looked like kids again—not scared, not quiet from confusion or exhaustion, just kids.
Lindee lingered in the doorway. “Take your time. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Got a plate of cookies with their names on it.”
“Thank you,” I said again, softer this time.
She smiled, then left us in peace.
I dipped my hand into the water, brushing it across Kaida’s back as she babbled nonsense and tried to balance a plastic whale on Kairo’s head. Kairo giggled, trying to get it to stay.
I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes for a second. It wasn’t over, not even close. But in this moment, in this warm bathroom with laughter bouncing off the tiles, it was enough because we were all safe.