Chapter Seven
Kane
The squeal gave Jade away before I saw her.
High. Delighted. Immediately followed by Casey’s voice drifting down the hall, tight with warning. “Easy, sweetheart. Gentle. Remember her ribs --”
I rounded the corner into the common room and stopped short.
I found Jade sitting cross-legged on the floor amid absolute chaos.
Blocks, Legos, and stuffed animals formed a minefield around her legs.
Casey’s little girl had climbed straight into her lap, small hands working hard to shove a plastic tiara onto Jade’s head.
The crown wobbled precariously while the kid concentrated.
A crayon rolled away and vanished under the couch as I watched.
Between them lay an unfortunate plush dinosaur, belly-up, abandoned in what appeared to be a toy battlefield.
Jade laughed. Not the careful sound she used when she felt watched. Not the brittle one she forced through nerves. This one came from deep inside, full and unguarded -- head tipped back, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. It hit me square in the chest, hard enough I forgot how to breathe for a second.
“Princess Jade needs her crown,” the kid announced, adjusting the crooked plastic.
“Princess Jade needs coffee,” Jade countered, holding still anyway. “How do I look?”
“Pretty.” Tiny fingers patted the fake gems. “You need sparkles.”
Solena’s little girl toddled over, gripping her stuffed dinosaur by the tail. “And dragons,” she declared. “Princesses need dragons.”
Jade nodded solemnly. “Clearly. Where would I be without my dragon?”
I leaned against the doorway and let myself watch.
I noticed the change in her today. The woman who once braced for impact now seemed to believe the next ten minutes might pass without harm. Yellow replaced the purple bruise on her cheek. Her shoulders moved easier, without the familiar stiffness.
When she caught sight of me, her laugh softened. Warmth crept into her expression -- shy, with a hint of surprise at my continued presence.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re up.”
“Been up,” I answered. “Gate rotation.”
Casey sprawled on the couch, feet propped up, both hands wrapped around her mug. Her twisted hair resembled a knot which had surrendered hours ago. “The mailman will file a complaint if you keep scowling.”
“I smiled once in ’09,” I told her. “Hated the experience.”
Jade snorted. The sound did stupid things to my chest.
I dropped onto the arm of the couch and watched her another second. The new jeans hugged her frame properly. A soft charcoal sweater peeked from beneath my unzipped hoodie. The plastic tiara perched crookedly in her hair, somehow perfect. Casey’s daughter slid off her lap to gather more blocks.
“How’s the fence?” Casey asked. “Any creeper cars?”
“Quiet,” I answered. “Which makes me itchy.”
“Everything makes you itchy.”
“Part of the charm.”
Jade carefully shifted to her feet, easing the kid away and catching the tiara before it slid. Then she stood up. “I’m retiring from royal duties for the morning. Princess Jade needs caffeine.”
The kid nodded, solemn as a judge. “You come back.”
“If they let me.”
She crossed the room and stopped in front of me. Arms wrapped around herself. Hoodie sleeves swallowing her hands.
“You look good,” I told her.
She touched the ends of her hair. “Even with the crown?”
“Especially with the crown.”
“New clubhouse dress code,” she teased. “Patches and tiaras.”
“Careful,” Casey warned. “You’ll give them ideas.”
Before I could steer Jade toward coffee, Marci came in wiping her hands on a dish towel. One look at Jade -- from tiara to hoodie -- and her mouth curved.
“Perfect timing,” she announced. “Field trip.”
Every instinct I had snapped tight. “Field trip?”
“Groceries and clothes,” Marci clarified. “We’re low on everything, and our girl needs more than three outfits. Moms’ van. Town run. You and Knuckles escort.”
My spine locked. “Off compound?”
“Yes, Kane. Town. The place with stores.”
I chose my words carefully. “I’m not saying she can’t go. Taking her off property while Roth sniffs around seems risky.”
“We won’t go near her old neighborhood,” Marci countered. “Highway store only. In and out. Atilla gave clear rules.”
My gaze shifted to Jade.
She froze. Her arms wrapped tighter around her ribs. Her gaze darted toward the door, then dropped to the floor.
“I don’t have to go,” she said in a rush. “I can borrow clothes. Make do. I don’t want --”
“You don’t want to cause problems.” I hated that she felt like she was a burden.
She flinched. “Yeah.”
“Your existence isn’t trouble.” I’d tell her that a hundred times if that was what it took for her to believe me.
Her mouth twisted. “Feels otherwise.”
Marci wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You need new underwear. Shoes for running. A proper coat. You escaped with your life and found people who want to help you. Let us.”
Jade swallowed hard. “When you put everything in perspective…”
“That’s the only way to say it,” Marci said.
Solena appeared in the doorway. “I already made the list. Your name’s on it.”
“Lists are sacred,” Casey added.
I hated the whole plan. Stupid would be the only word for ignoring Atilla’s authority, though. “He signed off?”
Marci tipped her chin toward the hall.
Atilla appeared through the doorway on cue. Denim hugged his legs. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest. MC colors adorned his back. His gaze swept the room and landed on the obvious tension.
“You giving my woman the stink eye?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
“No, sir. I wanted to confirm the town run details.”
“Nobody should leave right now, but… Kids need clothes. People need food. We never cage survivors.” He sighed. “I could order a delivery, but then we run the risk of someone intercepting it and hiding something in the bags. I don’t really like either option.”
His gaze settled on Jade. “You don’t leave without escort. Period. But I’m not locking you in a room either.”
Fair.
“Falcon. Knuckles drives. You ride shotgun. Watch for tails. If anything feels off, you bring them home. No hero shit.”
“Yes, sir.”
His stare lingered. “I wouldn’t sign off if I didn’t trust you.”
That landed heavily.
Jade stood frozen at the threshold, eyes wide and body tense.
“All right,” I decided. “Field trip.”
The moms’ minivan waited outside -- nothing special or remarkable about the vehicle. Cartoon character stickers covered one window while crayon marks decorated another. My gaze caught on a fossilized juice straw stuck in a cup holder when I pulled open the door.
Knuckles leaned against the driver’s door, sunglasses on. “I heard you’re going with us. Ready?”
“Better than letting you pick outfits.”
He snorted.
Marci took shotgun. I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the back, then took the spot she’d vacated. Jade slid into the middle row with Marci. Casey and Solena claimed the back. The kids stayed behind with cartoons and cookies.
As we rolled out, Jade stiffened. Hands knotted in her lap. Eyes locked on the gate.
“You good?” I murmured.
“Feels strange,” she admitted. “Going out.”
“We turn around if you want.”
She shook her head. “I need to remember how to do this.”
“Pack rules,” I reminded her. “We stay together. You call it at any time.”
“Okay.”
The store loomed bright and loud. Knuckles parked center-lot. Good sight lines.
Inside, Jade hesitated at the doors. “Crowds,” she whispered.
“We leave if you want.”
Her jaw set. “If I hide now, I’ll never stop.”
She slid her hand into mine and pulled.
I stayed half a step ahead. Let my body block. Let the noise hit me instead of her.
I watched the women dart through racks with military precision. Hangers clacked against metal. Fabric rustled. Jade vanished behind a curtain, grumbling about excessive spending.
The curtain slid open. Jade stepped out wearing dark jeans hugging her curves and a deep green sweater bringing out flecks in her eyes. Everyone fell silent.
Marci smiled warmly. “Now we see you.”
My heart kicked. “We’re buying all of it.”
She blushed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“True.”
We finished fast, paid for everything, then loaded up the minivan. After we pulled out of the lot, the mirror caught my eye. Dark SUV. No front plate. Tinted.
“Knuckles.”
“I see it.”
We didn’t lead him home. I wasn’t risking him slipping through the gates behind us.
Industrial park. Empty. Open concrete. I stepped out alone.
The man waiting wasn’t Roth. He introduced himself as Victor. He worked for Diaz, a name I’d heard quite a bit. He offered a trade.
I refused.
He showed me a family photo. According to Jade, she didn’t have anyone left. Either she’d lied, or these weren’t biological relatives and more the type you claimed as your kin.
I promised him blood.
He left.
When I got back in the van, I handed the picture to Jade. She clutched the frame like a lifeline.
“You didn’t hand me over.”
“No. And I never will.”
Back at the compound, Atilla listened. Spade connected dots. General watched. Lines were drawn.
Later, Jade sat with me at the table, fingers cold in mine as she stared at the picture frame. I still wasn’t sure who was in the photo, but I wasn’t sure now was the time to ask. “They touched this,” she whispered.
“They don’t own it.”
“They don’t own me.”
“No,” I agreed. “They don’t.”
She kissed me then. Steady. Certain.
“We do this together.”
“Yeah.” Outside, monsters planned. Inside, we prepared to fight them.
And I would burn the world before letting anyone take her.