I nod once. “You know where he is?”
Oxy shrugs, closing the door behind him. “You know where he is. He dropped Axel off. Probably planning his next move.”
I take a breath, forcing my voice to stay steady. “We need to intercept him before someone else does.”
“You mean Gilbert.”
I don’t answer because we both know that’s exactly what I mean.
Oxy smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “What’s your play here, Rev? You gonna hand over your stepbrother for a bonus check?”
My stare hardens. “Don’t test me.”
He steps closer, lowering his voice to something more serious. “Then what? You planning to save him?”
The question hangs in the air, demanding an answer I’m not sure I have. But then the truth surfaces, cutting through all the bullshit and strategy and careful calculation.
“I’m planning to save her,” I say finally.
Oxy studies me for a long moment, then nods once. “Then you’d better hurry. Word is Vincent’s body hasn’t even cooled and Gilbert’s already moving pieces. He’s got people watching the dorms, the warehouse, probably this safehouse too.”
Fuck.
I grab my coat from the back of the chair, shouldering it on. The leather is cold, familiar, armor that doesn’t actually protect anything that matters.
I text Atticus.Keep her inside. No calls, no exits, no contact with Koa.
I leave the safehouse, rain pelting my jacket the moment I step outside. The night hums like static—the kind of electric tension that comes before a storm breaks, before violence erupts, before everything you’ve been holding together finally falls apart.
My phone buzzes again. I pull it out, expecting Gilbert, expecting threats or demands or ultimatums.
But it’s Koa’s number.
Just three words,Where is she?
I don’t respond. Can’t respond. Because any answer I give will be a lie or a betrayal, and I’ve done enough of both for one lifetime.
I slide into my car, the engine roaring to life. The sound cuts through the rain, through the static, through the guilt trying to drown me.
I pull out onto the road, headlights cutting through the darkness. Somewhere out there, Koa’s looking for answers. Gilbert’s moving his pieces into position. And Lexi’s sitting in acabin with Atticus, probably planning her next escape or fucking him.Fuck.
And I’m trying to figure out how to save everyone without losing myself completely.
The rain hammers against the windshield, and I push the accelerator harder.
Time to see if I’m still the coward who ran, or if I’ve become a better man.
Either way, someone’s bleeding before sunrise.
43
Koa
The warehouse is dead quiet.
Not the comfortable kind of quiet—not the silence of an empty building settling into night. This is the quiet that comes after violence, after screaming stops and bodies drop. The kind that makes your instincts scream danger even when you can’t see the threat yet.
No engines humming in the distance. No guards smoking outside, their voices carrying on the wind. Just the rattle of loose tin above me, shaking in the breeze like bones in a coffin.
