Page 93 of Rivals & Revenge

I was so lost in thought I didn't even remember grabbing the plates and forks, nor did I remember Larissa and the dogs coming back in. The puzzle consumed me, swirling in my brain as if the answer was just beyond reach and it would only take the tiniest stretch to reach.

I speared a piece of food absentmindedly, not caring what I was putting in. It was just fuel, after all. Flavor exploded in my mouth. The chicken was so flavorful. Was there anything he wasn't amazing at? I sliced off a piece of the eggplant, stacking it with the cheese and tomato. Yep, that was ridiculously delicious. That settled it. He was objectively perfect.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the fog I had been lost in, Larissa and Ahren's voices coming back into focus just in time to hear Larissa's brilliant reply to our earlier conversation.

"What about her name—Lucia, it means light?"

My fork clattered to the plate, and I dove for the phone, snagging it before he could finish his bite.

My fingers shook as they punched in the passcode, then opened the map. "L-U-C-I-A" I called out the letters as I typed them in. The map disintegrated instantly, replaced by a clear photo of a majestic property. Small green numbers in the corner were most likely the GPS coordinates.

I took a quick screenshot before turning the screen for Ahren. I wanted to scream, to jump and celebrate, but I froze. A lead weight settled in my chest, anchoring me to the spot; my spirit drained and immobile. As if my body hadn't quite caught up with the idea, we solved the fucking riddle.

"Fuck yeah!" he yelled, offering both Larissa and me a high-five.

"What are the chances she doesn't know we solved the riddle? We may have her location, but she knows we're coming." I breathed.

The smiles slid from their faces as realization slammed into them. Everything leading up to now was nothing more than a practice run. Shit was about to get real—fast.

Chapter 49

AHREN

The rest of dinner passed in silence. Tierney's words, sharp as shards of glass, hung in the air, a chilling threat that pierced the silence. "We may have her location, but she knows we're coming."

She was right, of course. The smartest course would be to assume she knows we are coming. Add to that, our buffer zone had long expired and we could expect to be dodging bullets for the duration of whatever this was.

"Dinner was delicious." Tierney said robotically, rising from the table and placing her dishes in the sink.

I stood, abandoning my plate, and wrapped her in my arms. Her soft curves that had turned to rigid stone softened under my touch. I wanted to tell her it was ok. That everything would be fine. But I made myself a promise not to lie to her, and making any kind of predictions or promises about the future was more than a little reckless.

Instead, I just held her, both of us needing comfort and reassurance, both things neither of us had experience seeking outside ourselves.

"I'm going to take a shower and get cleaned up while you two get ready." Connor muttered, almost to herself, as she slipped her plate into the sink.

My hands slid down her arms until only our fingers were linked and I tugged her toward the stairs.

Entering my room, she walked past the arsenal of weapons on the wall, straight into the bathroom. One by one, pieces of her clothing hit the floor. I spun the knob, letting the water heat while I stripped my clothes off to join her.

Still silent, she melted against me, allowing me to care for her.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet." I murmured, working the shampoo through her hair.

She remained quiet, still as a stone.

"Close your eyes."

She obeyed, tilting her head back so I could rinse the shampoo and debris from her hair. I had almost given up on her answering me when she finally spoke.

"Just—don't have anything to say."

"It's ok to be scared."

Her wet hair slapped against my skin as her head shook from side to side. “I'm not scared. Not exactly. But I hate waiting. I just want it over with. You know?”

I barked out a laugh, shattering the somber silence.

"I'm sorry." I coughed, clearing my throat. "That was rude. I'm sorry. It's just—you're a sniper. I once waited three days to get a shot. An impatient sniper."

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