Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Adalynn
The house is bone-deep quiet, an oppressive stillness that usually has me watching every nook and cranny.
I’m submerged in a weightless sleep, a dark void that feels more like a descent into the deep abyss, when the bed frame groans as someone settles beside me.
My eyes fly open, pulse slamming against my ribs as a sudden spike of dread claws at my throat.
Before I can vault from the sheets, a massive, solid weight lands on my shoulder.
It’s Hulk. His palm is rough and scarred, yet he touches me with an unexpected softness.
He nudges me awake, his grip careful enough to drag me back from the brink of exhaustion without triggering a full-blown flight response.
I gasp, my lungs burning for air as I struggle to find my bearings in the murky light of the bedroom.
“Easy,” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. “It’s just me. I’m sorry to wake you, but Dodge needs something. Now.”
I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest, my mind still foggier than the morning mist outside. “What is it? Is Dodge okay?”
“He’s fine, but we’re in a tight spot,” Hulk says. His eyes are burning with intensity. “He needs the book. The black book. You know the one?”
I stare at him, completely lost. I frown, trying to push the last of the sleep out of my brain. “What book? Hulk, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. We didn’t pack any books.”
He doesn’t get frustrated. He just keeps his voice steady and low. “He says it’s here. A small, black journal. It’s the reason Gallows is hunting you all down. We have to find it among the kids’ things. We need to do it now.”
The kids? Confusion swamps me, but instead of asking any further questions, I climb out of bed, the floor ice-cold under my bare feet.
We head to the room the kids are asleep in, the air inside thick with tension.
I start tearing through their bags, my hands shaking.
Noah’s backpack is empty of anything but crushed snacks and some loose change.
I dump it out, watching the junk scatter across the floor.
I move to Carter’s side of the room, ripping open his duffel.
It’s just baseball cards and a few comic books.
I’m frantic, tossing shirts and socks aside, scouring through every pocket and hidden corner.
Hulk’s right there with me, his hands huge and awkward as he tears through the duffel, tossing clothes aside like they’re feathers.
We’re desperate, pulling apart every cubby and hiding spot they’ve got.
Then I spot Amelia’s pink backpack tucked in the back corner of the closet.
I grab it, unzipping the main compartment.
I see her favorite sweater and some stuffed dolls, but then I notice the side pocket is stuffed full.
I pull out a small, worn black book. My heart stops.
I open it, and the air leaves my lungs in a rush.
It’s not a record of crimes anymore. It’s a coloring book.
Amelia’s favorite blue crayon is dragged across pages of dense, financial records. Red marker circles names and dates that look like they could destroy half the state. I stare at the page, horror and relief clashing in my chest.
“Look,” I instruct, my voice trembling as I hand it to Hulk.
He takes it. His eyes darken as he realizes what she’s done.
He flips through the pages, seeing the bright, messy scribbles over the damning evidence.
“She’s been usin’ it as a coloring book,” he says, and for a second, a flicker of a grim smile touches his face before he gets deadly serious again. “She’s hiding it in plain sight.”
“And she didn’t even realize she was holding the key to our survival,” I whisper.
Hulk nods, tucking the worn black book against his chest like it’s a live grenade.
We move to the door, careful not to let the latch click too loudly.
The floorboards hold their breath under our weight as we slip into the dark hallway, the air suddenly turning cool against my skin.
I let out a jagged breath, thinking we’ve made a clean exit.
Then the door to the swings open and Carter shuffles out, one hand rubbing sleep from his eyes while he braces himself against the wall.
He looks small in the shadows, but his gaze is sharp and immediately suspicious.
He glances from me to Hulk, his eyes darting to the slight, rectangular bulge beneath Hulk’s cut.
“What are you doing up?” Carter asks. His voice is rough with sleep but laced with a tinge of alarm. “Why are you guys sneaking around?”
I step in front of Hulk, trying to block Carter’s view of the ledger. “It’s fine, Carter,” I say, forcing a calm tone that doesn’t reach my eyes. “We’re just doing a sweep. Dodge wanted us to check the perimeter and make sure all the doors and windows were locked up tight.”
Carter isn’t buying it. He narrows his eyes, looking past me toward the front door. “You’re lying,” he accuses. His shoulders stiffen, shifting into a defensive stance that looks way too much like Dodge. “Something’s wrong. Is it about that man? The one who followed us?”
He takes a step closer, his eyes searching my face for the truth.
I glance at Hulk, who stays quiet, a massive wall of silence behind me.
I hate that I have to keep him in the dark.
He’s already seen too much, but I can’t let him panic.
“Go back to bed, Carter,” I urge, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
He flinches away, his expression hardening. “Stop treating me like a kid, Adalynn. I deserve to know what's going on.”
“Dodge will explain everything once he returns,” I say in a hushed tone. “Right now, I just need you to trust me. Go back in there and watch over Amelia and Noah. That's the most important job you have tonight.”
He fixes me with an intense look, torn between defiance and understanding. Letting out a sharp sigh, he reluctantly turns back to the room. “Fine,” he mutters under his breath. “But I'm not sleeping.”
As he vanishes inside, a heavy silence settles over the hall. I exhale slowly, releasing the tension knotted in my chest. That was far too close.
Hulk cocks his head, eyeing me curiously. “Why aren't you telling him the truth?”
“Because I don’t want the kids turning on each other,” I clarify.
“You're protecting them from each other,” Hulk says, but it sounds like he’s still trying to figure out why that is.
“In a way, yes, I am. We’re all each other has left, Hulk.
Amelia doesn’t understand that she found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but Carter, he’s a hothead at times, and he’ll lose it if he thinks she’s the cause for us running for our lives.
I need him to remain her guardian, that’s a role that gives him purpose.
It gives him hope. And right now, that’s something we all need after what we’ve been through,” I explain.
“Okay. That's good, I guess.” He clears his throat, looking like he’s about to lay a bomb at my feet and I steady myself for the explosion. “You need to know something. Dodge isn't walking through that front door tonight.”
My heart stops. “What? Why not? He said he was coming home.”
Hulk shakes his head slowly. “Plans changed. The Snakes have been a thorn in his side for years. He told me he's not coming back until they're disbanded. Total eradication. He's going to tear that enterprise apart piece by piece.”
Disbanded. The word rings in my skull. It isn't just a hit.
It's a war. I lean against the wall, feeling the plaster cool against my spine. I should be terrified. I am terrified. But under the fear, there’s something else.
A grim, hard understanding. Dodge isn't the type to do things by halves.
If he's finally going into the battle, he's not going to stop until he's won.
“How long?” I ask, my voice sounding hollow.
“As long as it takes,” Hulk conveys. He reaches out and grips my shoulder.
“He's not just killing them, Adalynn. He's erasing them.
He's going to burn every bridge, every contact, and every drop of profit they have. He wants the Winlaw Snakes to be nothing more than a bad memory by the time he rolls back in.”
I look down at the ledger Hulk is still holding.
The black book. It's an ugly thing. It's the catalyst for all of this.
If it wasn't for this tiny ledger you can hold in the palm of your hand, we might be miles away by now, lost in the noise of the city and starting our new lives. Instead, we're the eye of the storm.
“And he's going to do it all by himself?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Hulk lets out a dry, rasping laugh. “Dodge? By himself? No. He's got the whole club with him. It's a full-scale purge. They're going to clean house, and they're going to make sure no one is left to come looking for us or this book again.”
I close my eyes. The image I paint in my mind is one featuring the warehouse, the fire, and the violence—it’s seared into my mind. I can see Dodge in the thick of it. I can see the look on his face. The cold, ruthless focus he gets when he's intent on solving a puzzle.
“I just want to know he's safe,” I whisper, the admission feeling dangerous.
Hulk looks at me, his eyes unreadable. “He's the deadliest man I know. He's safe. It's everyone else who needs to worry.”
I nod, trying to find some comfort in the words. It's not enough, but it's all I have. I have to believe him. I have to believe that Dodge is the monster in the dark who wins.
“Go back to the kids,” Hulk decrees, pulling away. “I'm going to finish sweeping the perimeter. Nobody gets in. Not tonight. Not ever.”
He pivots and strides toward the rear exit, his footsteps silent against the floorboards. “I'm sharing a roof with a spy,” I whisper, banging my head quietly against the drywall. “It’s like I’m in a scene of Mission Impossible.”
Left behind in the stillness of the hall, I’m the one holding the keys to the truth and shielding the little ones while Dodge goes out to paint the town in crimson. I inhale the heavy night air and retreat to the bedroom where the brood is tucked away.
I'm not running anymore.
I'm waiting.