Chapter 36 #2
Her shoulders shake once, like she is pushing something down. Then she nods and starts walking again. Her hand doesn’t leave mine.
We reach the emergency exit. There’s a small glass square at the top, wired.
A red sticker warns about alarms and unauthorized access.
I pull the card reader cover aside and swipe the badge from my pocket over the sensor.
It’s cloned from an actual staff chip, courtesy of the teacher who knew our girl’s mom.
The light flicks from red to green. The lock clicks. No alarm screams.
“Open it,” Gideon says quietly. “We’re clear.”
I push the bar and swing the door outward. Cool air rushes in, carrying the smell of trees and car exhaust. The service drive stretches ahead, lined with dumpsters and a narrow strip of grass. Beyond that, the parking area and the treeline where Gideon’s car sits in the shade.
I spot the dark sedan in its place. Driver’s side, Penelope’s blonde head in profile. Passenger seat, Talon’s sharp jaw, eyes pinned to the building.
“They’re right there,” I murmur to Minxy.
She squints into the light. At first, she doesn’t see them. Shadows and shapes blur together. Then Gideon lifts his hand in a small, deliberate motion. The car’s brake lights flare as Penelope shifts her foot.
Talon’s door flies open before she can touch the handle. He scrambles out so fast he nearly trips, catches himself on the roof, and stares straight at us.
“Minx!” His voice cracks hard across the distance.
Every part of her goes still. Then she runs.
Her hand tears out of mine, and she bolts down the narrow stretch of pavement, sneakers slapping the ground. For a second she is just a streak of gray sweatshirt and too-thin legs and frantic movement. Talon meets her halfway, arms open, chest heaving.
She crashes into him with enough force to rock him back a step.
He wraps his arms around her and hauls her in, crushing her against him like he can absorb her bones into his. She makes a sound that is not quite a sob and not quite a scream. He folds his hand over the back of her head, tucking her face into his neck.
I stop where I am and let them have the space. Gideon does too. We stand by the open door, shadows on the concrete, witnesses and guards.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she chokes into his collar.
He shakes his head, voice rough. “You’re stuck with me, brat. I told you I’d always find you.”
She pulls back just far enough to look at him. Her eyes are red, nose running, face blotchy and fierce. “They said I couldn’t call anymore. They said this was my new reality.”
“I know,” he cuts in, voice breaking. “They lied. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her fingers fist his hoodie like she doesn’t trust gravity. “Mom’s going to be so mad.”
“Good,” he says. “She deserves to be.”
She huffs a wet laugh that breaks into another sob and buries herself in his chest again.
Gideon clears his throat gently. “We need to move.”
Talon nods without looking up. “Okay. Right. Sorry.”
“No apologies,” I tell him. “Just get in the car.”
He guides Minxy toward the back seat. Penelope has already scrambled around to open the rear door from the other side. Minxy hesitates when she sees her eyes widening.
“Who are you?” she asks.
Penelope’s mouth twists. “I’m Penelope. Your almost stepsister and I’m dating your brother and your uncles.”
“You’re pretty,” Minxy blurts, then flushes. “Sorry. That’s weird.”
“It’s not weird,” Penelope says softly. “Thank you.” Her throat moves as she swallows. “We’re really happy you’re here.”
“Is it safe?” Minxy asks.
This time my answer comes out without hesitation. “Safer than where you came from.”
She studies each of us in turn, like she’s weighing odds in a game whose rules no one explained. Then she climbs into the back seat. Talon slides in after her, never letting go of her hand.
Gideon closes their door then takes the passenger side. I circle to the driver’s. Penelope is already behind the wheel, fingers white on the leather. I climb in behind her seat next to my niece and nephew.
“Drive,” Gideon says quietly. “Don’t look back.”
PENELOPE
I pull out of the service drive with my heart beating so hard it feels like it could explode out of my chest at any minute.
In the rear-view mirror, I can see them.
Talon has Minxy tucked against his side, their shoulders pressed together so tightly there isn’t a fraction of air between them.
The metal piece on his glasses glints when he leans down to murmur against her hair, his tattooed fingers flexing where they grip her hoodie like he’s physically holding her together.
Every time the car bumps over a crack in the asphalt, she flinches and tightens her grip, and he murmurs something against her hair. I can’t hear the words over the engine, but I don’t need the exact syllables to know what they are. You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’m here.
Gideon watches the side mirror, forearm braced on the window, the ink along his skin catching the passing light.
His jaw flexes every time a car gets too close.
Silas sits angled in the back, one arm draped over the seat, eyes never leaving the siblings.
He’s not crowding them, just holding the space like a wall.
The clinic shrinks in the rear-view. Minxy’s school van is still parked at the curb, blissfully unaware its cargo just vanished.
Every breath feels too big for my chest.
“How long until we get there?” Minxy asks quietly.
“Two hours or so,” I answer. “If traffic cooperates.”
“And where exactly are you taking me? I can’t go to Abi’s. She knows I know things.”
“We need to know what those things are, but not right now. When you’re settled. We’re taking you to Penelope’s. Abi won’t look for you there since she hasn’t allowed you to meet or see anyone.”
She presses her cheek back to Talon’s shoulder. “Can I sleep when we get there?”
“Yes,” I say. “As long as you need.”
“What if Mom finds me?” Her voice gets smaller on the last word.
Talon shakes his head, fierce. “She’s not touching you again.”
She looks at him, at Gideon, at Silas, then finally at me in the mirror. Her eyes are wary and young and too old all at once.
“You’re really not with her,” she says. “Any of you.”
Gideon’s mouth hardens. “No,” he answers. “We’re with you.”
Something in her shoulders loosens. Not all the way, but enough that her posture changes from braced to resting. She leans her head back against the headrest for a moment, then shifts closer to Talon, still clutching his hand.
I turn us onto the highway and merge into traffic. Cars glide past in the other lanes, everyone else on their ordinary business. No one honks. No one stares. To them, we’re just another vehicle on the road.
Inside the car, everything has changed.
Talon meets my eyes in the mirror. There’s still fear there, and shock, and grief, but beneath it all is something steadier. Resolve.
Not that long ago, he thought he was drowning alone.
Now there are four of us in this car and a fifth in the crosshairs of the woman who calls herself “Mom.”
I tighten my grip on the wheel and angle us toward home.
We did it.
We stole a girl out of Hell.
Now we have to keep her.