Page 112 of The Last Call Home
Mal:Yep, they need to know.If he shows up, they have to be ready.I won’t mention it to Keir until he’s out of the center.
Cass:How long does he have left?
Mal:I don’t know.He’s been there for more than two months.Atlas is in charge.I’ll ask him so we can plan how to break the news to him.He’s going to be pissed.
ChapterFifty-Two
Cassian
Birchwood Springs doesn’t seemto realize what’s happening right under their noses.Everyone still walks around like this is some safe, sleepy little town where nothing ever goes wrong—where the biggest scandal is someone switching churches or getting caught buying boxed pie crusts at the store.
They have no fucking idea.
We’re no longer ahead of it.We’re scrambling to hold the line with nails and prayer, and I swear, one of these days, luck’s going to run out.
Every morning there’s a new agent slipping into town like they’ve been here since forever.They blend in.The population has gone up by thirty and not a single person’s questioned it.No one notices a damn thing.They’re searching, digging ...and still, we haven’t found the heir.
I need to talk to Rosalinda.Or maybe her entire knitting club.They’re more than just adorable, nosy old ladies with yarn addictions.They’re the gatekeepers of every secret this town has ever tried to bury.Birchwood Springs’ living, breathing history—except their stories come with café gossip and a splash of tequila.
But what if they’re not looking for an heir?
What if they’re targeting the heirs of Old Birchwood Timber—Michael Timberbridge’s bloodline?
What if this entire operation was not only to take over the town but also a twisted, calculated fuck-you intended to destroy Mal and his brothers?
And we’re all just sitting here, sipping maple lattes, licking powdered sugar off our fingers, completely unaware that this isn’t just a takeover—it’s a slow, methodical culling.One by one.Like someone’s checking names off a blood-soaked list.They think Keir is dead—at least he’s been reported as missing for the past three months.He’s actually hiding at a safe house with Simone and has no problem staying there until we tell him it’s safe to come out.
His brothers are all marked and I’m not sure who’s next.Mal?Fuck, their own father is doing this shit.
“You’ve been working all morning.Shouldn’t you take a break?”
Delilah’s voice slices through the murky thoughts in my head.I glance up just as she walks into the room and gestures at the array of monitors behind me.
“I’m pretty sure this looks exactly like NASA’s launch room.”
“No.”I grin, holding out my hand.“Our systems are a lot better.”
She rolls her eyes but takes my hand anyway.Her fingers cool, my blood heating instantly.
I kiss her temple and ask, “Not that I mind you visiting me here, but what’s happening?”
“As I said, you’ve been holed up in here since we arrived—at five in the morning,” she adds, arching an eyebrow.“Do you ever sleep?”
“Rarely,” I murmur, tugging her down until she’s straddling my lap.
Her body settles over mine like she belongs there—because she fucking does.I grip her hips and pull her closer, grinding her against the hard-on pressing through my jeans.Letting her feel exactly what she does to me.
“Can we have noon sex?”I ask, voice low against her throat, “or is your mom around?”
Lilah snorts, but her eyes flashing with heat.Her breath catches as my hands slide beneath the hem of her shirt.
“She’s downstairs,” she murmurs.“Which reminds me ...I’m concerned.”
“That we can’t have sex while you’re working because she’s always here?”I arch an eyebrow because I can spend more money on the bakery and speed up the re-construction.
“No.She said, ‘Your dad was outside,’” Lilah continues, fidgeting, trying to play it off with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.“That we should probably just leave town now.According to her, Canada seems like a good place to start a new bakery.”
Suddenly, I’m not smiling anymore.Everything inside me grinds to a halt.
