“Cam?”
Talia’s voice slices through my thought path, sharp and unwelcome. I jerk upright, clear my throat, slam the laptop shut harder than necessary. Not because I’m ashamed—because if anyone saw what was on that feed, what she’s doing right now… I’d burn for it.
Right now. As in two doors down, she’s falling apart under her own hand. And I’m here.
Waiting.
Grinding my teeth against every rule I swore I wouldn’t break for her.
“Yes, that sounds good to me.” I hope. Truth is, I have no idea what she asked me, let alone the answer.
Between keeping Nell safe and digging up the truth about her uncle, my brain’s already running hot. The rest of it? Let the team handle it. That’s what they’re here for, after all—trained, armed, and extremely competent.
By the time the house empties out and I reclaim the kitchen, I make sure I get there before Nell can set another appliance on fire. Last time, she nearly turned the toaster into an improvised explosive device. Not again.
The stove hums, the potatoes roll in a steady boil, and for the first time all day, there’s something resembling calm.
It’s not peace. But I’ll take it.
The cat’s a problem.
Still weaving between my legs like we’re old buddies, tail high, purring like he’s earned it. I don’t get it—I haven’t so much as scratched behind his ears once. Haven’t even looked at him with affection. But he’s latched on like I’m his personal saviour.
And he won’t leave me the hell alone.
I have to remind myself—I’m doing this for Nell. Only for Nell.
Because if it weren’t for her, this walking allergy would be back in that flat where I found him, shedding fur like confetti and hacking up hairballs like it’s a party trick.
A thunderous bang rips through the silence, and I’m awake before I’ve even registered the noise—pure instinct dragging me out of sleep, heart already slamming against my ribs.
There’s no time to think. I reach for the dart gun on the nightstand, flicking the safety off with muscle memory alone. I’m already moving—barefoot, adrenaline flooding my system like wildfire.
First priority—Nell.
I sweep into the hallway like a ghost, eyes adjusting to the dark. Her door’s wide open. And she’s not inside.
Panic spikes sharp in my gut. No.No, no, no. Not here. Not now.
Another bang—closer this time.
My head whips around toward the far end of the hall. To the last door on the left. Cold sweat beads down my spine.
I move.
Fast, low, controlled.
Every instinct screams at me to be ready for a fight as I edge against the wall, weapon raised, pulse a drumbeat in my ears.
The door is cracked, just enough to see.
I press my shoulder to the frame and strain to hear over the thudding in my chest. Something shuffles inside. Heavy. Uneven.
I count to three.
Then I move.
I slam the door open and sweep the room—gun first, body tight behind the frame. The shadows jump. There’s a crash as something—or someone—topples a chair trying to move.
