Chapter 12
The Enemy Sleeping Beside Me
The safest place in the state became the one place neither of them wanted to be.
Together.
Marcus Hale had disappeared less than an hour after the recovered footage surfaced.
His house had been emptied.
His bank accounts drained.
Every known safe house abandoned.
Whoever he worked for had anticipated the evidence eventually coming to light.
Which meant one thing.
"They've got someone else inside Black Venom."
Roman stared at the intelligence board.
"Someone feeding them every move we make."
Ryder nodded.
"So nobody leaves headquarters."
Sophia folded her arms.
"And me?"
"You stay with me."
Her laugh held no amusement.
"Absolutely not."
The argument lasted nearly twenty minutes.
"You don't trust me."
"I don't trust whoever keeps trying to kill you."
"They're not the same thing."
"They are when you're the target."
She stepped closer.
"I've survived five years without you."
"And I spent those five years wishing you didn't have to."
Silence followed.
Finally Roman interrupted.
"Whether either of you likes it or not, she's right."
Both turned toward him.
"What?"
"If there's another traitor inside the club..."
He looked at Ryder.
"...the safest place for her isn't Black Venom."
"So?"
Roman slid a set of keys across the table.
"The mountain cabin."
Ryder frowned.
"They already found it once."
"Exactly."
"They won't expect you to return."
Sophia hated the plan.
Mostly because it meant living under the same roof as Ryder.
Again.
The cabin looked exactly as she remembered.
The same stone fireplace.
The same oversized leather couch.
The same creaking staircase.
Only one thing had changed.
The silence between them had become heavier.
"I'll take the upstairs room."
She picked up her overnight bag.
"You always did."
She stopped halfway up the stairs.
"You remember?"
"I remember everything."
She didn't answer.
Because part of her did too.
The first evening passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Sophia cooked.
Ryder chopped vegetables.
Neither admitted they were unconsciously falling back into old routines.
"You still cut onions too thick."
He looked at the cutting board.
"They taste the same."
"They cook differently."
"I've managed to survive this long."
"Barely."
He smiled.
"There she is."
She frowned.
"Who?"
"The woman who used to argue with me about absolutely everything."
She looked away before he noticed the corner of her mouth threatening to smile.
Later that night the power failed.
The cabin disappeared into darkness.
"Great."
Sophia searched for a flashlight.
Ryder struck a match before lighting several oil lamps.
Golden light danced across the room.
"You planned for this?"
"I've spent enough nights in the mountains."
She walked toward the bookshelf.
"I forgot how quiet it gets."
"I didn't."
Outside, rain hammered the roof.
Thunder rolled through the valley.
Neither realized they had drifted closer until they were standing only inches apart.
"You smell the same."
The words escaped Ryder before he could stop them.
Sophia's heart stumbled.
"That's a strange thing to say."
"I know."
"You always did notice things nobody else noticed."
"I noticed everything about you."
She looked directly into his eyes.
"That wasn't enough."
His expression fell.
"No."
"It wasn't."
The next morning Roman arrived carrying more bad news.
"Marcus wasn't acting alone."
Ryder looked up.
"What did we find?"
"Encrypted payments."
Roman placed several documents on the table.
"They've been flowing through shell companies for nearly eight years."
Sophia studied the financial records.
"That's impossible."
"No."
Roman's voice was grim.
"It means this started long before either of you met."
She looked toward Ryder.
"So I wasn't the reason."
"You never were."
The certainty in his voice caught her off guard.
"You believe that now."
"I always did."
She stared at him.
"Then why didn't you fight harder?"
The room became painfully quiet.
Roman quietly left.
Neither noticed.
"I ask myself that every single day."
Ryder's voice barely rose above a whisper.
"I replay that night constantly."
He looked toward the rain-soaked windows.
"I always find another way I could've saved you."
Sophia crossed her arms tightly.
"You can't change the past."
"I know."
"But if I could trade places with you..."
He looked back at her.
"...I would."
She wanted to stay angry.
She needed to.
Instead she saw a man carrying guilt so heavy it had become part of who he was.
She hated that she understood it.
That evening they found themselves sitting before the fireplace.
Neither had intended to.
Conversation drifted from the investigation to lighter memories.
The first motorcycle Sophia ever restored.
The time Ryder accidentally rode into a lake trying to avoid a deer.
"You told everyone you meant to do that."
"I panicked."
"I know."
"You still laughed."
"I laughed for a week."
He laughed too.
The sound filled the cabin like something long forgotten.
She hadn't heard it in years.
Neither had he.
Another clap of thunder shook the windows.
Sophia instinctively flinched.
Without thinking, Ryder reached for her hand.
She didn't pull away.
Not immediately.
Their eyes met.
The firelight softened every sharp edge between them.
"You should let go."
"I know."
He didn't.
Neither of them moved.
Every promise.
Every wound.
Every unanswered question.
Everything stood between them.
Then Sophia closed the distance.
The kiss wasn't gentle.
It wasn't forgiving.
It was years of grief, longing, anger, desire, and unanswered love colliding in a single impossible moment.
When they finally separated, both struggled to breathe.
Sophia stepped back first.
"We shouldn't have done that."
"No."
Ryder agreed.
"But I'd do it again."
She looked at him for a long moment before quietly walking upstairs.
Neither slept.
Because one kiss had changed the battlefield.
Neither of them was fighting only the enemy anymore.
They were fighting their own hearts.