Page 218 of Sage Haven
But I know that if Blythe had been Sage, I would’ve done the same thing.
“How are things?” I asked as we sat on the back deck, watching the dusk bleed into night.
Keenan leaned back in the lounge chair, fingers absently peeling at the label of his beer. The silence stretched between us, heavy. Thick with things neither of us wanted to say out loud.
Finally, he sighed, “I don’t know.” His voice was low. Tired. Stripped of the bravado I usually associated with him. Then, with a bitter, self-deprecating smirk, he added, “But I’d be hopeless if I was someone who gave up. So, thank God I don’t ever stop trying.”
I offered him a half-smile, letting the silence settle for another few breaths before speaking, “Keenan. Thank you—for everything with Sage.”
I met his gaze, meaning every word, before continuing, “If there’s anything I can do for Blythe… you say the word.”
He lifted a hand, shaking his head as he stared down at his boots, “Thank you, Reich. But no.” His voice was flat. Final. “You focus onyour girl. If I need you, I’ll come to you. But you don’t want to get involved in what Nael and I are doing.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
His jaw worked, muscle ticking in his cheek, “You don’t want to get involved,” he repeated. “This is high risk. Nael and I… we’ve got nothing left to lose. You’ve got your brother. Your girl.”
I stared at him, the words twisting in my gut, “You still have Blythe. You still have all of us.”
He scoffed, shaking his head like I was missing the point, “I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection, Keenan,” I snapped. “You know damn well I can handle myself.”
He met my eyes. “I never said you couldn’t.” His voice was calm. Measured. But there was something in it—something I didn’t trust.
We fell silent again.
Old history hanging between us like smoke.
Heavy. Choking.
We had always gotten into shit together.
Always.
Since we were kids. Since the nights we drank cheap whiskey and planned the kind of future that was never going to exist for guys like us. We had bled together. Fought side by side.
So why the fuck was this different?
Keenan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His voice dropped low. “Nael and I found a way out.”
My stomach sank. “A way out of what?”
He held my gaze. Unblinking. “We found a way out of the ENA.”
For a second, I said nothing. Then I laughed. A dry, humorless sound that felt foreign in my throat. “You haven’t been able to get Blythe out for six months. But now, somehow, you’ve found a way to do the impossible?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. “It’s all or nothing,” Keenan said. “We can’t get her out unless we get everyone out.”
A cold knot twisted in my gut. “Okay,” I said carefully. “And how exactly do you plan on getting us all out?”
He exhaled slowly. His expression darkened. And when he spoke again, there was something in his voice I’d never heard before.
Something dangerous.
Something final.
“It involves treason.”
