37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Wrenley
The mansion feels different when he’s gone.
Too big. Too quiet. Every sound echoes, trying to fill the space Liam usually does.
Max sits across from me in the war room, one boot propped on the edge of the table, scrolling through a tablet.
He’s pretending to not watch me from beneath his lashes.
Margot’s hunched over Elias’ laptop, her hair falling in her face as code flickers across the screen.
Elias sits beside her, quiet and focused, the two of them working in that strange rhythm they have where they barely need words.
I try to focus on the map in front of me, but my eyes keep drifting to the clock. They’ve been gone an hour.
“Stop glaring at the clock, Sparrow,” Max says without looking up. “You’ll break it.”
“I’m not glaring.” I say looking away too quickly.
He glances up, one brow raised. “You are. That’s the same look you give me right before you take the last cup of coffee.”
A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. “Maybe I just take what I want.”
He smirks. “Some people would call that theft.”
I shrug. “Semantics.”
His mouth curves, but his eyes stay on me a second longer. He sets his tablet down. “Come on.”
I blink. “What?”
He stands and holds out his hand. “Kitchen.”
“Max—”
“Kitchen,” he repeats, softer this time. “Before you burn a hole through the wall with your eyes.”
I stare at his hand for half a second, then take it.
His fingers close around mine, warm and steady, and he leads me out of the war room without asking anyone for permission.
No one says a word. Margot doesn’t even look up from the screen, but I know she notices by the smile that creeps across her face.
The kitchen is quieter. Warmer. Less full of blinking screens and bad possibilities. Max lets go of my hand only long enough to move around the island. He opens the freezer, pulls out the ice cream, then grabs milk, chocolate syrup, and two glasses from the cabinet.
I lean against the counter, arms crossed. “You’re making milkshakes, now?”
“You’re spiraling.”
“I am not.”
He gives me that look that says he knows when I’m full of shit.
I narrow my eyes. “I’m strategically concerned.”
“Aw, that’s adorable.” He says with a chuckle.
“I could stab you, you know.”
“You could," He says, dropping ice cream into the blender. “But then who would make you a milkshake?”
I press my lips together, trying not to smile.
The blender kicks on, loud enough to fill the room, and for a few seconds I don’t have to think.
Not about Liam. Not about Torque. Not about Noah.
Not about Sebastian pulling at old threads and trying to turn them into nooses.
Max pours the milkshakes into two glasses and slides one across the island to me.
I take it, eyeing him. “You know this doesn’t fix anything.”
“Nope,” he says. “But it gives your hands something to do besides threaten me and the furniture.”
I take a sip. Chocolate. Thick. Sweet. Familiar. My chest aches a little.
Max watches me over the rim of his own glass. “There’s my Sparrow.”
I look away, feeling my cheeks blush. “I’ve been right here.”
“No,” he says quietly. “You’ve been halfway out the door since Liam left.”
That lands. I stare into the milkshake, watching a line of chocolate slide down the inside of the glass. “Three hours Max.” I say.
“I know.”
“I promised him we wouldn’t move before then.”
“I know that too.”
My throat tightens. “I hate waiting.”
Max comes around the island, takes my glass from my hand, then gives it right back once I stop clenching it so hard.
“I know, baby.” he says. “Come on.”
“Where now?”
He nods toward the back doors. “Your tree.”
Something inside me softens. We take our milkshakes outside, toward the old oak tree near the back edge of the garden. The air smells damp and green, the kind of quiet that only exists away from screens and weapons and people trying to decide who lives or dies.
Max sits first, stretching one leg out, then tugs me down beside him. I go willingly, leaning into his chest. For a few minutes, neither of us talks. I sip my milkshake and stare up through the branches. The leaves shift in the breeze, sunlight breaking through in fractured gold.
Max bumps his shoulder against mine. “You’re thinking too loud, this was supposed to relax you.”
“You’re annoying.” I say, but there is no truth behind it.
“Usually.” He says flatly.
I glance at him. “That wasn’t a denial.”
“Sparrow, I know what I am.” He gives me that crooked smile that makes my knees weak. A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. His expression shifts when he hears it. Not smug. Not teasing. Just… relieved. That makes my chest ache worse.
“I’m worried,” I admit, the words quiet.
Max doesn’t pounce on the confession. He doesn’t tease me for it. He nods once, like I handed him something fragile and he knows better than to squeeze.
“I know.”
“I hate that he’s out there, and we’re here.”
“Liam knows how to handle himself.” He tells me.
I sigh. “I know he does.”
”But knowing doesn’t make it easier.”
I close my eyes for a second. “No.”
Max’s fingers find my fingers in the grass. A comfort. I let my hand relax under his. “They know how to handle what’s in front of them,” I say, like I’m trying to convince myself. “I know that.”
“They do.” Max agrees.
“But what if something goes wrong—”
“Then we go get them.” He interrupts before I can let myself think anything too bad.
I look at him. He meets my eyes without hesitation. “When the three hours are up, if they’re not back or we don’t hear from them, we go. No argument.”
I swallow hard. “You’d do that?”
His brow lifts. “Sparrow.”
Right. Of course he would, we’re family. Before I can answer, the back door opens. Margot steps out first, Elias right behind her. One look at their faces, and the soft little pocket of calm Max carved out for me collapses. Max is on his feet before I am.
“What did you find?” he asks.
Margot stops a few feet away from us, tablet clutched in her hand. “It’s Noah.”
My stomach drops, I didn’t want to believe it when Liam told me who they were going to find.
Elias’ jaw is tight. “Or someone using his access. But the signature matches too closely for it to be random.”
I stand slowly. “Show me.”
Margot turns the tablet toward us. “This is what I showed Reaper. Kellan checked in three days ago. Ruiz dropped a packet yesterday. Dax pinged late last night,” Her finger taps the screen. “Noah hasn’t hit a single window in eight days.”
Max’s expression hardens. I stare at the data, trying to make the pieces arrange into anything that doesn't feel like betrayal.
Margot swipes to the next screen. “This relay came through an internal path. Not fully inside the mansion, but close enough to our systems that whoever sent it knows how we operate.”
“Coordinates?” I ask.
Elias nods confirming what I already know. “Near the industrial line.”
The words settle like ice in my blood.
“Where Reaper and Torque went,” Max says.
No one answers. No one has to. Max already has his phone out. He calls Liam first. It rings once. Twice. Nothing. Max tries again, this time with Torque. Same result. His jaw tightens as he lowers the phone. “No answer from either one.”
The garden goes painfully still. For one ugly second, all I can hear is my own pulse. I breathe in. Deep and slow, and sharp enough to hurt.
“They know how to handle what’s in front of them,” I saw, steadying my voice even when the rest of me wants to fracture. “I… we have to believe that.”
Max watches me carefully. Then he nods. “Okay,” His voice shifts, turning clean and controlled. “Margot, Elias, dig up everything you can on that relay. I want origin points, access history, any old codes Noah might’ve used, and every route connected to those coordinates.”
Margot nods. “Already started.”
“Good,” Max looks toward the house. “Riot needs to prep a truck just in case. Quiet loadout. No panic.”
Elias takes the tablet back. “I’ll pull satellite overlays and traffic cams.”
“Do it.” Max says.
They turn and head back inside, already moving. Max stays with me. For a second, the garden is quiet again, but it isn’t soft anymore
He steps closer pulling both of my hands to his chest. “You okay?”
I look toward the oak tree, then back to his eyes. “No,” I say. “But I’m steady.”
His mouth tightens with something that almost looks like pride. “That’s close enough.”
The minutes drag after that. I keep my promise. Barely.
Back in the war room, the mansion shifts around us like a machine waking up under pressure.
Margot and Elias work side by side, chasing the relay through old access points, and half buried routes.
Riot leans against the far wall, arms crossed, quiet for once.
Wrecker sits near the door, bouncing one knee, pretending he isn’t watching me watch the clock.
Max stays close, but not too close. He knows me well enough not to cage me.
The second hand ticks too loud. Every minute feels like a test. Margot mutters something under her breath Elias answers without looking up.
Their screens flash with maps, logs, fragments of signals that almost lead somewhere before breaking apart again.
I stare at the clock. Two hours, two minutes have passed.
Liam said three. I promised, so I wait. The buzz of my phone cuts through the room.
Everyone looks at it. The name on the screen knocks the air from my lungs.
Daisy. For a second, I just stare. I don’t have time for this.
Not right now. Not when Liam is silent and Torque isn’t answering and Noah may have handed us all to Sebastian wrapped in a pretty little bow.
Daisy’s name keeps flashing. She matters too. I slide the phone across the table to Wrecker. “Can you talk to her?”
He catches it mid-slide, already nodding. “Yeah. I got it.” He pushes to his feet as he heads toward the hall. “Hey, kiddo…” His voice softens before the door swings shut behind him.
The room exhales, but it doesn’t help. The tension seeps right back in.