“Time to go,” I tell Minny, grateful for the interruption.
She nods but doesn't move, “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“When this is over, really think about what's best for her. Not what you want. What she needs.”
The words hit harder than any punch I've ever taken. I want to tell her to go fuck herself, that she doesn't know shit about what Charlotte needs. But the truth is a bitter pill lodged in my throat—she's right.
“I'll think about it,” I lie, because thinking about it and doing something about it are two different things.
We move through the security checkpoint in silence. I watch Minny disappear into the maze of gates and shops, her words still echoing in my skull like a broken record. My phone buzzes again, an update from V.
Package secured. Boarding in 20.
I should feel relief, but all I feel are Minny's accusations pressing down on me. She's right about one thing—Charlotte deserves better than this. Better than me. But the thought of walking away from her makes my chest feel like it's collapsing in on itself. I pace the terminal like a caged animal. My phone buzzes again.
She's on the plane. Door closed. Wheels up in 10.
Relief floods through me, but it’s fleeting. Now that Minny's safe, my mind shifts back to Charlotte—what she needs, what she deserves.
Fuck this.I need answers more than I need these doubts.
I stride toward the exit, decision made before I even realize it. The safehouse can wait. Ratchet's got Charlotte locked down tighter than Fort Knox. What we need now is information.
I pull out my phone, thumbs flying across the screen as I step into the morning sunlight.
Taking a detour. Heading back to the hotel. I want to see if those fuckers are still hanging around.
Ratchet's response is immediate.
You sure that's smart?
V chimes in seconds later.
Want me to meet you there?
I don’t hesitate before responding.
Stay with Minny until wheels up. I'll be fine. Just recon.
I silence my phone and climb onto my bike, the engine's rumble drowning out the voice in my head telling me this is reckless. But reckless is what I do best. And right now, I need to feel useful. I need to prove that I'm more than just the violence Minny sees in me.
THOR
The hotel isn’t far.I pull into the parking garage and snag a spot on the same level as the skybridge that leads straight into the casino. Efficient. Fast. I don’t plan on lingering.
Inside, I move like I belong—head down, strides steady. Just another guest blending into the chaos of flashing lights and fake smiles.
The casino sprawls before me like a glittering trap. Neon strobes, clinking glasses, and the hypnotic chime of slot machines fill the air with false hope. I hug the perimeter,scanning the crowd. No familiar faces. No one watching too closely. Just tourists chasing luck and cocktail servers pretending to care.
I hit the bars next, starting with the one near the lobby. It’s quiet, scattered with early drinkers and bored business types. No sign of them.
Then I head toward the high-roller section—the bar near the velvet ropes and heavy security. The one where they drugged Charlotte.
My jaw tightens as the memory flashes: her body folding into mine, limp and helpless.
The bartender tonight is new—young, sharp, and female. She barely glances at me when I order a water, no flicker of recognition.
