Page 55 of My End
The drive was quiet for the first ten minutes. I gripped the wheel like it owed me money, my knuckles white, and my eyes on the road.
“You good?” Adam asked and tapped on the dash with the corner of the notebook.
I didn’t answer at first. The words burned my tongue.
“No,” I finally said. “I’m not good. I’ve got a target on my back, and I don’t even know what the hell I did.”
Adam glanced at me sideways. “Is this about Tilly?”
My jaw clenched. “Probably. But fuck if I know for sure. Jim’s lips are sealed, and Boone, Boone’s the puppet master pulling every string.”
Adam scratched his beard. “You and Tilly… it’s serious?”
I didn’t answer.
Adam nodded slowly. “Yeah. Thought so.”
I sighed and eased back in my seat as we hit the main road out of the estate.
We made the first two stops for dry goods from the bulk distributor, then a specialty butcher shop Boone liked. Adam handled most of the talking. I kept my head down and my eyes open.
My mind kept spinning back to Tilly.
The way she’d looked last night, tucked into my chest, asking if something was wrong. She was too smart not to feel the tension. Too intuitive not to see the cracks.
I wanted to tell her everything. That Stretch wasn’t a nickname from friends, that it was who I was. That I was deep undercover with a club that would burn the world down to protect its own.
I wanted her to know the truth before it was too late.
But every second I stayed quiet was a second I kept her safe.
Or so I told myself.
At the final stop, while Adam was checking off the list, I leaned against the hood of the SUV, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag.
I was running out of time.
And I had no idea what Boone was planning next.
But if he was pulling me away from the inner circle, it meant he was locking something in place.
And when Boone locked in… people died.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tilly
I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me, but I had this gnawing feeling in my gut that something was wrong. Not the kind of wrong where someone forgot to order milk or the laundry was still sitting wet in the washer. This was the kind of wrong that made your skin itch. The kind that made your stomach twist in knots and your pulse tap out warning signals.
I hadn’t seen Jake all day.
At first, I thought maybe he was just laying low. After all, last night had been... a lot. But when I poked my head into the kitchen, the living room, and the gym and didn’t spot him anywhere, the itch grew into full-blown unease.
My bare feet padded across the cool floor of the hallway as I made my way toward Boone’s office. If anyone knew where Jake was, it would be Boone. I wasn’t going to knock or even open the door. I just wanted to see if he was in there.
When I rounded the corner, I heard voices.
Low. Serious. Boone and Gibbs.
