Page 38 of Damian
“Damn it!” River slammed his hand against the wall.
“Not again,” Cyclone said, running out the back door. The men jumped into vehicles and took off. We ran for ours and followed; they were too far ahead
Roger’s jaw flexed. “How did she know about this place. She’s not just feeding us breadcrumbs from a distance. She’s in the middle of it.”
A surge of anger, fear, and something I didn’t want to name tore through me. She’d promised me she’d stay out of danger, that she’d keep Ruby safe. And here she was, putting codes in the computer.
River muttered, “Gotta admit… gutsy move.”
I clenched my fists, heat burning in my chest. “It’s not guts. It’s reckless. She’s painting a target on her back.”
Cyclone glanced up from his screen. “Whatever you want to call it, she just handed us our first real trail.” His eyes met mine. “Question is—do we follow it, or do we drag her out of this mess before she gets herself killed?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Both.”
47
Morgan
Iknew Damian wouldn’t like it. None of them would. But sitting safe in the cottage while girls kept disappearing and Luthor stayed free? I couldn’t do it. Not when I had the skills to help.
The mill was dark as I drove past it. I knew they were there, dealing with human trafficking and fentanyl. Ruby was home, safe in bed, and I told myself over and over that’s why I could do this. Because she needed a world without monsters like Luthor.
After I turned around, I saw two people outside, smoking cigarettes.Get the information. Leave. Don’t get caught. Don’t slow down. Keep driving.
It was reckless of me to drive out here, I knew that. It was dangerous. But every breadcrumb mattered. Every sign I left behind was one step closer to putting Luthor in a cage.
I thought of Damian as I drove into the night. His steady voice, the way he’d looked at me when he promised he’d come back once this was over. If he found out that I left the house, he’d be furious.
But he’d also know one thing for certain—
I wasn’t giving up. Not on this fight. Not on him.
By the timeI made it back to the cottage, the night air had turned cold enough to bite. My fingers were stiff on the doorknob, my chest still pounding from every close call replaying in my head.
Ruby’s soft snore drifted from her room down the hall. I leaned against the doorframe a moment, listening, grounding myself. She was safe. That was all that mattered.
Still, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I set the recorder on the counter, staring at its red light. Once, it had been nothing but a companion, a way to spill my thoughts. Now, it was the most dangerous secret I owned.
I sank into the chair at my desk, pulling my knees up tight, wrapping my arms around them. Damian’s face flashed in my mind—the hard edge of his jaw when he made a promise, the weight in his eyes when he told me he’d be back.
He’d be furious if he knew where I’d been tonight—furious and worried for me in equal measure. Maybe even disappointed. The thought burned worse than the danger I’d just faced, by driving out there.
But what else was I supposed to do? Sit here, pretend I didn’t know the patterns, the places, the things nobody else seemed to see? Pretend I wasn’t meant to be part of this?
I whispered to the silence, “I’m helping. Ihaveto.”
My throat tightened. Because beneath all that stubborn determination was a sliver of fear I couldn’t shake—that when Damian found out, he wouldn’t see me as brave. He’d see me as reckless. And maybe he’d stop looking at me the way he had before he left.
I pressed my forehead against my knees, whispering one more promise into the dark.
“I won’t let him down. Not this time. Not ever.”
48
Morgan
Sleep didn’t come. Even after Ruby’s breathing steadied into the rhythm of dreams, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, my heart still pounding with adrenaline. By the time dawn cracked pale light across the curtains, I was back at my desk, coffee cooling beside me, recorder propped where it always sat.
