Page 77 of Betray Me
“Twenty-four hours,” Harper continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “After that, we start with your friends. Luna first—I believe you’ve grown quite fond of her despite your history.”
The line goes dead, leaving us in silence that feels heavier than the grave.
“Jesus,” Max whispers. “Belle, I’m so sorry. I had no idea Harper was—”
“How could you?” I set the phone down with hands that won’t stop shaking. “He’s been perfecting this performance for years. Probably decades.”
But even as I speak, my mind is already moving beyond shock and betrayal to something colder, more calculating. The training my father gave me as a spy—the ability to compartmentalize emotion and focus on strategy—serves me well now.
“Max,” I say, my voice growing steadier. “Text Erik. Tell him Harper’s compromised, that they need to disappear immediately. Use the code phrase we agreed on.”
Max nods. “Already done. What about us?”
“We disappear too. But not to hide.” I stand, gathering the most damning documents from our spread. “If they want me to surrender, they’ll have to catch me first. And in the meantime, we’re going to expose every single name in these files.”
“Belle, if Harper’s right about The Architect’s resources—”
“Then we’d better move fast.” I meet his eyes, seeing my own determination reflected there. “Max, they made one crucial mistake. They assumed I’d react with fear instead of fury.”
His smile is sharp, predatory. “What do you need me to do?”
“Help me hunt,” I say simply. “It’s time to show them what happens when their victims fight back.”
It’s best to stay on the move to keep them guessing about our whereabouts, and as we prepare to abandon yet another one of our temporary sanctuaries, I feel something shift inside me—the final transformation from victim to predator. Harper andhis mysterious Architect think they’re closing a circle that began with Janet Wilson’s murder.
They’re wrong.
They’re about to discover that some circles become nooses.
And Belle Gallagher knows exactly how to tie the knots.
Chapter 27: Unholy Alliance
Now
The burner phone feels like a weapon in my hands as I dial the number Max memorized from Erik’s emergency contact card. Twenty-four hours have passed since Harper’s ultimatum, twenty-four hours of moving from one abandoned location to another, always staying ahead of whatever forces are hunting us. The cabin we’ve taken shelter in now—some forgotten hunting lodge deeper in the Vermont wilderness—smells of mold and dead leaves, but it has the one thing we need most: complete isolation.
Max sits across from me at a table made from a tree stump, his laptop open to news feeds that have been our only connection to the outside world. The morning light filtering through grimy windows catches the stubble on his jaw, the exhaustion in his dark eyes that mirrors my own. We’ve been running for so long that I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to be still.
The phone rings three times before Luna’s voice cuts through the static.
“Who is this?” Her tone is sharp, suspicious—exactly what it should be.
“It’s Belle. Is this line secure?”
A pause, then: “As secure as we can make it. Belle, what the hell is happening? We had to leave our safe house yesterday after Erik noticed surveillance.”
Relief floods through me so powerfully that my knees weaken. She’s alive. They’re both alive. “We need to talk. All of us. Are you somewhere you can put me on speaker?”
“Hold on.” I hear muffled conversation, footsteps, and the sound of a door closing. “Okay, you’re on speaker. Erik’s here. Belle, we’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
Erik’s voice joins Luna’s, tight with worry. “Max sent a coded message about Harper being compromised. We’ve been operating under the assumption that no one in law enforcement can be trusted.”
“You’re right.” The admission tastes bitter on my tongue. “Harper’s been working for them all along. He’s code-named ‘The Guardian’ in my father’s files—a law enforcement asset who’s been protecting the network’s core members for years.”
“Fuck,” Luna breathes. “Belle, that means everything we told him—”
“Has been fed back to them, yes.” I lean forward, pressing my palm against my forehead where a headache has been building since yesterday. “They know our movements, our plans, our safe houses. We’re completely exposed.”
