Chapter 10
REICH
Istood in the kitchen, braced against the counter with one hand while the other lifted the glass I was holding to my lips. I drank greedily, desperate gulps of cold water sliding down my throat as I tried to force the raw ache in my body to fade.
It didn’t work.
My chest still burned from the punishing pace I’d set on my run, but the exhaustion wasn’t just physical.
It never was.
No amount of distance on the trail could outrun the storm in my head.
I had tried.
Harder today than most.
Each pounding footfall on the cracked pavement had been an act of defiance, an attempt to drown it out—the chaos, the noise, the relentless pull of things I didn’t want to feel, but it didn’t work.
Nothing did.
Because no matter how far or fast I pushed myself, I couldn’t escape her.
Sage.
Her name was an echo, soft and sharp all at once, whispering through the back of my mind even when I told myself I didn’t want it there. She was a slow, creeping presence in the edges of my thoughts.
Always there and waiting.
The more I tried to shake her, the more she stayed.
A sharp pang of frustration tore through me, hot and fast. I clenched my jaw, draining the glass before slamming it down on the counter harder than I meant to. The sound cracked through the stillness of the house like a small gunshot.
I forced myself to breathe.
Steady.
In and out.
I needed to get myself under control and then Castor strolled in, radiating that effortless confidence he wore like a tailored suit. His presence filled the room before he even spoke, walking in with that infuriating grin like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Like none of this mattered.
“I take it you had a pleasant night of debauchery,” I said dryly.
My voice was unimpressed and flat, but Castor thrived on that.
He smirked as he dropped onto one of the barstools, sprawling with the kind of easy arrogance that made people underestimate him.
“Pleasant?” he echoed, lips curling. “No, brother. It was fucking transcendent.” He stretched, his joints popping. “Sam and I’s time together? It borders on depravity. You ever see two mental patients fuck each other’s brains out to the point of temporary sanity?” He winked. “A lobotomy fuck?”
I scoffed as I rolled my eyes, grabbing the pitcher and refilling my glass. My throat was still parched but my patience was drier.
“Always such a poet, Cas.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating in his chest as he rested his elbows on the counter. “And you?” he asked, tilting his head as if he didn’t already know. “How was your night?”
I could have lied.
I should have but what came out was worse. “She wasn’t worth it.” I sharply said.
A reflex and Castor knew it.
He smiled. That slow, knowing smirk that meant he was about to fuck with me purely for sport. “Really?” He asked.
I turned away, setting my glass in the sink as if that would close the conversation, as if he’d ever make it that easy, but Castor was relentless.
He always had been.
“Since you’re not interested,” he drawled, “and she seems to be struggling to fit in… maybe she’d like to join Sam and me for a night.” He gave a thoughtful pause. “She’s easy on the eyes, isn’t she?”
The heat that surged through me was instant.
Hot. Irrational. All-consuming.
My hand flexed at my side, fingers curling into a fist so tight I felt the pull of the tendons in my wrist.
He wanted a reaction.
And fuck him, because he was getting one, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.
Not all of it.
I forced my voice into indifference. “She’s alright.”
Flat. Cold. Deceptive.
But it didn’t matter.
Castor wasn’t fooled.
I started to walk away, needing space.
Needing anything that wasn’t this conversation, but Castor wasn’t finished. “She was smitten with you, you know?”
I stilled.
Just a fraction of hesitation, but it was enough.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, working to keep my tone even and controlled.
He leaned back, casual as ever. “I had a little chat with Sam and Sage this morning,” he said, voice light but his gaze sharp. “Sam’s worried. Says Sage keeps asking about you.”
I hated when he did this.
Dropped information like breadcrumbs, daring me to follow.
Tossed out scraps of truth like weapons, waiting to see if they hit their mark.
I shouldn’t have cared.
I told myself I didn’t.
And yet, there it was.
The crack.
The twist deep in my chest that told me I was lying.
I shrugged because I had to. “She’s not my concern.”
“That’s odd,” Castor mused, his voice too casual. “Considering she looks an awful lot like that girl we’ve seen hanging around the back field every morning.”
My jaw tightened.
So he’d noticed her too.
“I’ll take care of it,” I said, the words clipped and final.
They left no room for argument, but Castor wasn’t arguing.
He was watching, and that was worse.
“Right,” he said slowly, pushing off the stool. “Well, I’ve got a blondie waiting who needs some taking care of.”
He made it sound casual, but as he moved toward the door, I stepped into his path.
Blocking it.
The air between us shifted—sharp and tense.
“Whatever you do,” I said, my voice low and even, “make sure this girl doesn’t mess with our work.”
For the first time in hours, Castor’s grin faded. His expression hardened. Eyes locked on mine, cool and calculating, “I could say the same to you, brother.”
A silent beat passed between us.
An understanding.
A warning.
Then he left, and I was alone again, but not for long.
Because every morning after my run, I still found myself standing on the deck.
Watching her.
Sage.
She didn’t move through the field like she was passing through.
She moved like she belonged to it. Like the earth had claimed her long before she stepped foot on it. And I—I started to feel like I was the trespasser. Like I didn’t belong here.
I told myself to look away.
I told myself this was nothing, but it didn’t shake the pull of her, that was so damn magnetic and irresistible.
Every day it seemed to get worse.
And after meeting her, and getting so close, my desire for her was like a wildfire, spreading unchecked.
And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could contain it.
Fuck.
***
Castor returned late that night, but his usual confident demeanor was gone, like it had been stripped away.
He was grim when he walked through the door, dropping his laptop bag and a thick file onto the coffee table with a heavy thud.
I didn’t move and didn’t speak.
Just waited.
“I found something,” he said.
His voice was quieter than I liked. “You’re not going to like it,” he continued.
I exhaled slowly.
“I don’t like most things,” I muttered. “What is it?”
He didn’t answer. Just flipped open his laptop and started navigating.
His fingers were quick and precise, and when the screen loaded, I felt the weight of what was coming settle deep in my gut.
A dark web site.
One of the worst.
A twisted marketplace.
A place where people were bought, sold and hunted.
Bounties. Contracts. Blood for hire.
Castor clicked a listing.
The page loaded slowly.
And then—her.
Sage.
Her photo stared back at me.
Frozen. Unaware. Exposed.
NAME: Sage Holquinn
AGE: 27
LAST SEEN: Sanele
HUNTING FEE: Negotiable
Every detail of her life was laid bare.
Her car. License plate. Copies of her identification.
Her life reduced to data points on a screen.
I skimmed further, pulse pounding in my ears.
DESCRIPTION OF JOB: She’s unstable. She ran away. Needs to be returned. Breathing preferred, but not necessary.
USER: K.O. King
The world around me went silent.
The weight of recognition hit me like a punch to the gut.
K.O. King.
The initials, K.O.
Klay Ovitt.
The man we’d been hunting.
My hand gripped the edge of the table, turning my knuckles white.
Why her?
“What do you want to do?” Castor asked, watching me.
The answer formed before he finished the question.
A perfect, terrible clarity.
A slow grin pulled at my mouth as I met his gaze. “This couldn’t have worked out better if we’d planned it.”
Castor blinked, “What the hell are you talking about?”
I exhaled. Steady. “We use her.”
His expression darkened. “Use her?”
“She’s our bait,” I said, leaning forward. “To get to Klay.”
Castor’s disbelief hardened into something colder. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” I allowed. My grin widened. “But better us than some other lunatic.”
I let the words settle and watched the realization click into place.
“We’ll keep her safe,” I said, my voice dropping lower. “Relatively speaking.”
Castor exhaled sharply. “You’re playing a dangerous game, brother.”
I smirked, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Good.”
I already knew what I was doing, and I didn’t care.
Because I had just found my way to her.
She was mine now.
Even if she didn’t know it yet.