Page 77 of Her Nightshade

Jake was all charm, asking Sloane about school, her life—carefully avoiding anything that might spark tension. She answered politely, but her tone was clipped, her smile forced.

I barely spoke, focusing on my plate and nodding along to their conversation, though my mind was elsewhere. Every now and then, Jake’s hand brushed my arm or rested on my shoulder, a silent reminder of his control.

When we finished eating, Jake stood and stretched. “Let me fill your glass of wine, sweetheart,” he said to me, his tone dripping with false affection.

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you.”

As he disappeared into the kitchen, Sloane pulled out her phone, her fingers moving quickly over the screen. She hesitated, then slid it across the table towards me.

I glanced down at the screen, her notes app open with a message written.

I know what’s going on. We’re gonna get you out of this.

My breath caught in my throat and I quickly lifted my eyes to hers. She gave me a subtle nod, her expression calm but her eyes blazing with determination.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I reached out to slide the phone back to her. Before I could respond, Jake’s footsteps echoed down the hall.

Sloane slipped the phone back into her lap, her face a perfect mask of casual indifference just as Jake walked in with a glass of wine in hand.

“Here you go,” he said, placing the glass in front of me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, quickly taking a sip.

Sloane smiled politely at Jake, but the tension was still there. I could feel her gaze on me, her silent promise hanging in the air.

We’re gonna get you out of this.

28

Charlie

Icrouched near the window, staring out at the faint glow of the lights in the lake house in the distance. We were in the vacant lake house next door, though it was about 100 meters away. Every second we waited felt like torture. My jaw was clenched tight, my palms sweaty despite the biting cold of Maryland.

Behind me, Callan leaned against the wall, arms crossed like he had all the time in the world. His calm demeanor irritated me, but I knew it wasn’t indifference—it was experience. He’d been here before, maybe not in this exact situation, but close enough.

“It’s been hours,” I muttered, the words escaping before I could stop them. “Still nothing.”

“That’s a good thing,” Callan replied, his voice maddeningly composed.

I turned to face him. “How the fuck is that good? They’re in there with him and we’re sitting here doing nothing.”

He pushed off the wall, meeting my glare head-on. “We’re not doing nothing,” he said sharply. “We’re waiting. Bart did his job. Jake doesn’t know we’re here. That’s what matters.”

I let out a sharp breath, trying to keep the frustration hidden. “We’re putting all this on a guy who’s been working for Jake. How do we know he won’t just double back and sell us out?”

Callan’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a sharper edge. “Because we paid him more than Jake ever did. Bart doesn’t have loyalty, he has a price. And we made sure ours was higher.”

It made sense, but it didn’t feel like enough. I ran a hand through my hair, pacing near the window. “And you think that’s all it takes?”

“Yep,” Callan said simply. “He told us everything. And now he’s been feeding Jake bullshit to keep him off our backs. Right now, Jake thinks you’re still in New York, and that’s why we’re here, waiting for our time to strike.”

I stopped pacing, staring out at the lake house. My chest ached with the unknown.

“What about Sloane?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “Have you heard anymore from her?”

Callan stepped closer, his expression softening just slightly. “She’s keeping an eye on them. Says they both went up to their room, but she’s lingering around, trying to catch him off guard.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. The thought of Ana in there with him made my stomach churn. And Sloane…fuck, if I dragged her into this, if either of them got hurt, I’d never forgive myself.

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