46. Dash
Dash
Sloane holds the service-door frame steady while I fit the temporary reinforcement plate over the weakest section of the old wood.
The permanent hardware isn't arriving until tomorrow, but neither of us was willing to leave the entrance untouched after Kade pointed out how little support existed around the lock.
The new camera is already active above us, its feed open on my phone beside the drill. It covers the rear path, the eastern fence, and the narrow approach to the extension where Callie first stayed when she came here.
Sloane glances at the screen again, then looks toward the open window farther down the wall. Theo’s soft voice drifts from the nest room, followed by Callie answering him, and some of the strain around Sloane’s mouth eases before tightening again.
“Idris is with them,” I say as I align the last screw. “The cameras are running, the filing went through, and Garrett’s firm has him locked out of their systems.”
“None of that means he accepted it.” Sloane keeps his palm against the frame while I secure the plate, his attention splitting between the yard and the voices inside. “He spent months deciding everyone around him belonged where he placed them. He will see losing control as something done to him.”
I understand that too well. Garrett’s name has occupied half the calls coming into this house since morning, but Callie refused to spend the entire day sitting beside the phone, so she took Theo back to the nest after lunch with the records Zana needed them to review.
Idris joined them with tea and the promise that no one would discuss the case unless Callie or Theo chose to bring it up. The last time I passed the open doorway, Callie was stretched against the pillows with Theo curled beside her, and Idris was reading while keeping one hand on each of them.
My phone vibrates against the concrete step. I pick it up and see Kade’s approval beneath the photograph I sent him, along with a note that the preserved access records have been delivered to the investigator.
“He has the digital chain,” I tell Sloane. “The campus access, the assistant account, and the older transition files are all in evidence now.”
Sloane releases the doorframe and wipes sawdust from his palm. “Then Garrett knows the window is closing.”
Before I can answer, Sloane’s body locks beside me.
His head lifts sharply, and the color leaves his face as his hand closes around the front of my shirt. He isn't looking at me anymore, and the sudden terror in his expression is too complete to belong to anything happening in the yard.
“Callie,” he says, the name tearing out of him with a rawness I have never heard before. He lets go of me and runs for the open service door as another sound reaches us from inside.
Something heavy strikes a wall near the nest. Theo cries out immediately afterward, the sound sharp and frightened before it cuts off altogether.
I follow Sloane through the hall, nearly catching his shoulder when he takes the corner too fast. Idris reaches the opposite end at the same time, already moving toward the nest because the bonds have given both of them a warning I can only read in their faces.
The doorway is partially blocked by an overturned chair and one of the narrow tables Theo dragged in for scent objects. Sloane kicks the chair aside, and the room opens in front of us.
Garrett is on one knee inside the nest.
Blood runs from his nose and stains the front of his shirt. One of the pillows lies crushed beneath his hand, while Callie stands several feet away with her fists raised and Theo behind her against the far wall.
Her right hand is already swelling across the knuckles. She is terrified, but she is still between Garrett and Theo when he pushes himself upright.
For one stunned moment, all I can see is her. She met him before anyone reached the room, and the blood on his face proves she did not wait to be rescued.
Garrett wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at her as though the blow offended him more than the break-in. His polished calm remains, but it is thinner now, stretched over rage he can no longer hide.
“You have made this worse at every turn,” he says, taking a step toward her. “Move away from Theo before you frighten him further.”
Callie does not move. Her shoulders shake, but her voice is steady when she answers. “You broke into our house and came into his nest.”
Garrett’s eyes flick toward Theo. He is pressed into the wall with both hands clenched against his chest, his mouth open around breaths that don't make a sound.
“Theo knows me,” Garrett says, softening his tone in a way that makes Sloane bare his teeth beside me. “He knows I have always taken care of him.”
Theo’s face crumples at the words. Idris crosses the room carefully, keeping Callie between himself and Garrett until he can reach Theo without stepping into Garrett’s path.
Garrett sees the movement and turns toward him. “Do not touch him when he is distressed. You have already made him unstable with that permanent bite.”
Idris places himself in front of Theo and gathers him against his chest. Theo folds into him without resistance, his fingers clutching Idris' shirt while his body begins to shake hard enough that Idris has to brace his weight.
“You are trespassing in his nest after forcing entry into a protected residence,” Idris says, keeping his voice low. “The police are being called now.”
Garrett takes another step toward Callie. The movement is small, but Sloane reacts as though Garrett has lunged.
He reaches him before I do and drives a fist into Garrett’s jaw. Garrett hits the side of the nest platform, knocking loose a lamp and sending it crashing across the floor.
Sloane follows him down, grabbing the front of his shirt and striking him again before Garrett can lift an arm. The rage in Sloane’s face is nearly blank, burned past thought by whatever fear is still tearing through the bond.
Garrett twists beneath him and reaches toward Callie. I catch his wrist, wrench it behind his back, and drag him away from the nest before he can touch her.
He drives an elbow into my ribs as I pull him across the floor. Pain flashes through my side, but I keep hold of him and slam him facedown against the rug.
“You think this protects her?” Garrett spits, fighting beneath me. “She destroys every structure she enters, and you are too blinded by sex to see it.”
Sloane drives his fist into the side of Garrett’s face. Blood smears from Garrett’s mouth against the rug, and the sound that leaves Sloane is rough enough that Callie flinches behind us.
I tighten my grip on Garrett’s arm as he tries to buck me off. His free hand scrapes across the floor toward the folded papers that fell from inside his coat, and I drive my knee more firmly between his shoulders.
The papers are copies of the expired order he used on campus. Even after Zana dismantled the lie in front of him, Garrett carried the dead document into this house as though paper could still force everyone back into place.
Idris has his phone against his ear now. He keeps one arm around Theo while giving the dispatcher the address, the forced entry, and Garrett’s condition with a control that does not touch the terror in Theo’s face.
Theo tries to say something against Idris' chest. His lips form Callie’s name, but only a thin breath emerges before his throat closes again.
Garrett hears him and turns his head against the rug. “Theo, tell them to stop. You don't want this.”
Theo goes rigid in Idris' arms. His eyes fix on Garrett, and whatever confusion remained inside him breaks across his face.
Callie steps closer before any of us can stop her. “He does not have to tell us anything.”
Garrett looks up at her from beneath my hand. “You have poisoned him against the only person who kept him safe.”
As I shift back enough to give him room, Sloane grabs Garrett by the shirt again and hauls him halfway upright. His fist draws back, and there is nothing controlled left in the way he looks at the man in front of him.
My fist lands against his cheek and knocks him sideways into Sloane’s grip. The moment his body goes slack, Sloane pulls him back and hits him again.
Callie shouts for us to stop. Her voice cracks the first time, swallowed beneath Garrett’s grunt and Sloane’s breathing, but she steps closer and says it again.
“Stop. Both of you, stop.”
I freeze with my hand locked around Garrett’s wrist. Sloane’s fist remains raised, his whole body trembling while his eyes drag away from Garrett and find Callie.
She is standing beside us with tears on her face and blood across one knuckle. Fear still shakes through her, but her gaze holds Sloane’s until his arm lowers.
I force Garrett facedown again and pin both wrists behind him. Sloane stumbles backward from us as though releasing the violence costs him balance.
Callie reaches him first. Sloane catches her around the waist and pulls her against his chest, pressing his face into her hair while his breathing breaks.
“I am sorry, baby,” he says, his bloody hand cupping the back of her head. “I felt you, and then I saw him near you. I could not see anything else.”
Callie grips his shirt and lets him hold her for several seconds before she pulls back enough to look at him. “He can't pay for what he did if he is dead.”
Sloane’s mouth twists. He nods once, then again, the movement unsteady as he looks over her shoulder at Garrett beneath me.
“I know.” He presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes. “I am sorry I scared you.”
I keep one knee against Garrett’s back while reaching my free hand toward Callie. She comes close enough for me to hold her hip, and the tremor moving through her passes into my palm.
“I am sorry too,” I tell her. My knuckles burn, and blood from my split lip fills my mouth when I speak. “I should have stopped before you had to ask twice.”
“You stopped.” Callie covers my hand with hers and looks down at Garrett. “Now keep him there until the police come.”