Chapter Twenty-Nine
TOREN
Carn made the decision to return to the house we first stayed in when we got to town. I agree with his decision. We can’t trust Masen and taking him to one of the Denver Kings safehouses would be stupid. Xaden’s men were set free and so were Masen’s.
The latter were ordered to return to my father’s house and wait there for instructions. Masen told them to put out a call to the rest of his men to all be present for a briefing tomorrow night. I will finally get to see the true scope of my father’s network.
I can’t even look at my brother. Halo led him to the bathroom and is currently stationed outside the door while he cleans up.
Carn is in one of the bedrooms calling Alex.
I’m standing in the living room trying to gather my thoughts.
I can’t think, too much is running through my mind.
I can’t even look at the burger Carn had one of the guys pick up for me.
He ordered me to eat before he went to make the call but the thought of food alone has my stomach churning.
“What a fucking mess,” I breathe out as I flop down onto the sofa and bury my face in my hands.
“Messes can be cleaned, darlin’.” I look up to see Carn leaning against the wall with a soft smile on his face.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “Every time I think I have it all figured out, some new piece of information comes out and pulls the rug out from under me!” Tears burn the backs of my eyes as frustration begins to build.
“I thought I could do this… I really thought I could come back here and be the person—” A sob erupts from me and I break down.
Within a split second, Carnage is beside me, wrapping me in his arms and tucking me into his side.
My tears soak his shirt. He clutches me tighter.
“You aren’t the angel of darkness, Tor,” he says quietly. “You’re not supposed to have the answers figured out on your own.”
“But everyone is counting on me,” I sob. “Masen has the intel you and the guys need. Xaden needs—” My voice breaks. “And I don’t know how to be all these things for all these people.”
“Then don’t be,” he says simply. “You don’t owe anyone a version of yourself that doesn’t exist. You just have to be you, darlin’.”
“But what if I’m not enough?” The question tears from my throat without consent. “What if I make the wrong choice and people die because of it?”
“Then that’s on them for putting that weight on you,” Carnage says firmly, his hand comes up to cup my face, forcing me to look at him. “You’re nineteen years old, pregnant, and dealing with more shit than most people face in a lifetime. You don’t have to carry everyone else’s expectations, Tor.”
His touch is so gentle, so careful, and I find myself leaning into it without thinking.
“That’s easier said than done,” I whisper.
“I know.” His voice drops lower, softer and suddenly I’m hyperaware of how close we are. Of the warmth of his body against mine. Of the way his dark eyes are locked on my face like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
“You’re not alone in this,” he continues and his thumb traces along my cheekbone. “Whatever happens, whatever you decide, I’m here. Not because you owe me anything. Not because I expect anything from you. Just… because I want to be.”
I should pull away.
Should put distance between us.
Should remember that I’m pregnant with another man’s baby and Carnage is my friend.
But I can’t move.
Can’t fucking breathe.
Can’t do a damn thing except stare at him as he leans closer, his eyes dropping to my lips for just a fraction of a second.
“Carn,” I breathe, and I don’t know if it’s a warning or a plea.
His hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. He’s so close, I can feel his breath on my face.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Tell me this isn’t what you want and I’ll stop right now.”
But the words won’t come.
Because in this moment, with tears still wet on my face and my world falling apart around me, all I want is to feel something other than pain.
To be wanted by someone who isn’t fighting it every step of the way.
To be chosen by someone who actually wants to choose me.
His forehead comes to rest against mine, and we stay like that, frozen in the space between what we are and what we could be.
“I can’t,” I finally whisper and I hear him release a shaky breath. “Carn, I can’t. The baby—Xaden—I’m such a mess right now and you deserve—”
“Hey.” He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hand still cradling my neck. “I don’t care about what I deserve. I care about you, point blank period. And if you need me to be just a friend, just your protector—I can do that. I’ll be whatever you need me to be darlin’.”
The sincerity in his voice breaks something inside me.
“I don’t know what I need,” I admit, fresh tears falling. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Then let me be here while you figure it out,” he says simply. “No pressure. No expectations just… here.”
Slowly, reluctantly, he releases me and leans back, putting distance between us.
The loss of his touch feels like a physical ache, but I know he's right.
I can't do this. Can't add another complication to the disaster my life has become.
Even if part of me desperately wants to.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper.
“Don't be.” His voice is gentle, understanding. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
We sit there in silence for a long moment, and slowly, my breathing evens out. The tears slow. The panic recedes.
But something has shifted between us.
Something I don't know how to name.
“You need to eat,” Carnage says finally, breaking the tension by gesturing to the forgotten burger. “For the baby.”
The baby.
My hand goes to my stomach instinctively, and the reminder of why I can't let myself fall into Carnage's arms crashes over me.
I'm carrying Xaden's child.
No matter how complicated things are between us, no matter how much he pushes me away—this baby connects us.
And I can't pretend it doesn't.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.”
I force myself to pick up the burger and take a bite. It tastes like cardboard, but I chew and swallow anyway.
For the baby.
For the future I'm trying to build.
For the person I'm trying to become.
Carnage watches me eat with approval in his eyes, and I'm grateful—so fucking grateful—that he's here. That he didn't push. That he's willing to be whatever I need him to be, even when it costs him.
“What did Alex say?” I ask between bites, desperate to focus on something other than what almost just happened.
“He's sending more men,” Carnage replies, his voice back to normal or as normal as it can be after we nearly crossed a line we can't uncross. “And he wants a full briefing on everything we got from Masen. He's also working on a plan to approach Fiona with the intel.”
“A plan?”
“A trade,” he clarifies. “Masen's cooperation and everything we’ll learn from him will help us take that snake down once and for all. Then we leverage your brother to try and convince Xaden to release Cas.”
My stomach twists at the mention of Cas. Xaden has him locked up somewhere, punishment for the betrayal. And we need to get him out.
“Do you think it'll work?” I ask.
“I think if we can take the head off the fucking snake, we remove the leverage Fiona has on everyone,” Carnage says. “Including whatever she's holding over Masen. And if we can do that, maybe we can convince Xaden that Cas deserves a second chance.”
“Xaden doesn't do second chances,” I say quietly.
“He gave you forty-eight hours,” Carnage points out. “He gave Masen a chance to cooperate instead of just killing him. Maybe he's more capable of mercy than you think.”
I want to believe that.
Want to believe that the man I love is capable of forgiveness.
But the memory of him shooting pucks at Cas on that ice is too fresh. Too brutal.
“We'll see,” I say, taking another bite of the burger.
Behind us I hear the door open and then footsteps. Halo’s low voice is giving instructions.
Masen is coming.
My entire body tenses.
“You don’t have to talk to him tonight,” Carnage says quietly. “You can rest. We can deal with all of this tomorrow.”
“No.” I force myself to stand, even though every muscle in my body protests. “I need to do this. I need to understand what we are really dealing with before our timer runs out.”
“Tor—”
“I need to know,” I interrupt. “I need to know the full scope of what my father built. What my brother has been running. What I’m really fighting against. Without that information, we’ll be fighting blind like we have been and I’m sick of losing.”
Carn studies me for a moment, then nods. “Okay. But I’m staying with you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Masen appears in the doorway, Halo a step behind him. My brother looks exhausted. His face is clean but bruised, clothes rumpled, eyes shadowed with things I don’t want to name.
He looks at me, and for a moment, I see the boy I used to know. The one who taught me how to ride a bike. Who snuck me cookies.
The boy who promised to always protect me and keep me safe.
But that boy is gone.
Buried under years of lies and criminal enterprise and choices that can't be undone.
“We need to talk,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
Masen nods. “I know.”
He moves into the living room and sits in the chair across from the sofa. Halo positions himself by the door—close enough to intervene if needed, far enough to give us space.
Carnage stays beside me on the sofa, a solid presence I'm desperately grateful for.
“Tomorrow night,” I start. “You called all of Dad's—your men to the house for a briefing.”
“Yes.”
“How many are we talking about?”
Masen's jaw tightens. “Core operations? About fifty. If you count everyone on the payroll, distributors, enforcers, informants, closer to two hundred.”
Two hundred.
I let the number sit there for a moment before I respond to it, because there is something else in it that I need to look at first.
Not the number itself. The way he said it.