Chapter 13
Tammy
Elaine told the truth once daylight touched her.
Not all of it.
People like Elaine did not empty themselves in one sitting. But she told enough.
Savannah had gone back for names of children still being moved. Malcolm sent Bishop. Julian gave them enough information to find Evelyn's trail. Elaine got scared and told Malcolm where Savannah was supposed to meet Judge Alana Pierce.
Savannah died before dawn.
Bishop shot her.
Elaine moved her body before Malcolm could burn it.
"Where?" Rico asked.
Elaine looked at Damian like the answer belonged partly to his blood.
"The old King family mausoleum. Beneath the east wall."
The room went quiet.
Damian's father had been dead for years, but his shadow still knew how to take up space.
Before we left, Damian made everyone stop.
Not because we had time.
Because he saw my face and finally understood that moving from one nightmare to the next without breathing was not strength. It was damage with shoes on.
The safehouse had an old patio hidden behind brick walls. Somebody had once installed a hot tub back there, probably back when the building was still a private clinic for rich people who needed privacy for the wrong reasons.
The water was warm. The night was cold. Security stood beyond the courtyard doors, close enough to matter and far enough to let us have one corner of peace.
I sat with my back to Damian while he rubbed my shoulders under the water.
For once, neither of us rushed to speak.
His thumbs moved slow along the tight places near my neck. My eyes closed before I gave them permission.
"You carry stress like a weapon," he said.
"You carry fear like a strategy."
His hands paused.
Then he gave a low laugh.
"Fair."
I leaned back against him. His chest was warm behind me, the healing cut at his side covered and dry for once.
"What happens after this?" I asked.
"We get Savannah. We secure the ledger. We get Bishop."
"I mean after after."
His hands went still again.
Men like Damian could plan a raid in four minutes, but the future made them quiet.
"I want a life where you do not have to check windows," he said finally.
"That sounds nice."
"I want you in my house because you choose it, not because danger corners you there."
I opened my eyes.
"And if I choose my own house?"
His arms slid around my waist.
"Then I learn the drive."
That made me smile.
He kissed my shoulder.
"I want children if you want them. Marriage if you want that. Peace whether or not we deserve it."
My throat tightened.
"You think we deserve peace?"
"I think you do. And I want to become the kind of man who can live in it with you."
I turned in the water to face him.
No cameras. No enemies in the room. No dead women speaking from tapes.
Just Damian looking at me like I was both the question and the answer.
"I love you," I said.
His face softened in a way most people would never see.
"I love you too."
"No, Damian. I love you. But I need you to remember that loving me does not mean deciding for me."
"I know."
"Do you?"
He nodded. "I'm learning."
That answer did more for me than a perfect promise would have.
I kissed him.
Warm water moved around us. His hands held me steady, not trapped. My fingers slid over his shoulders, and for a little while, the world outside waited.
We did not drag peace into something bigger than it was.
We let it be enough.
? ? ?
An hour later, we drove to the King mausoleum.
Savannah waited under the east wall.
Bishop waited in the dark.