“And you?”
“I’m on my way.”
“You better be,” Kane muttered. “We’re too close to the end to let personal shit burn you any further.”
“I'll take the burns if it means keeping them safe and fixing what is broken.”
“Keep your head up,” he said. “... and your gun ready.”
I tightened my grip on the wheel. “I’m done playing defence, Kane.”
“Careful, Harlan. If you go full vigilante, I’ll have to put you on a watchlist.”
I chuckled. “You already have me on one.”
“Damn right I do.”
The line went quiet again. This time, when Kane spoke, it was calmer. “We’re not done,” he said. “And Erin Voss hasn’t played her last card. Be ready.”
“I am.”
“Good. Then get to the cabin. Watch your six.... Oh... and tell Ava I say hi.”
With that, he hung up.
I drove the rest of the way in silence, my thoughts a mess of memories, regrets, and unfinished business. But under all of it was a quiet promise:
We were going to finish this.
And I was going to make damn sure the place we built afterward was worth the cost.
CHAPTER 62
AVA - CONNECTING THE DOTS
There are moments in life when time seems to stand still, no longer meaning what it once did. When you’re a kid, days blur together, endless and forgiving. Summers stretch forever, and waiting five minutes feels like torture. But then there are moments, the kind that rip something open inside you, where every second matters.
When you’re waiting for the doctor to come back with test results.
When you’re holding someone’s hand in a hospital bed, praying for one more breath.
When someone you love walks out the door, and you don’t know if they’ll come back.
Those are the moments when you start counting. Hours. Minutes. Heartbeats. Days.
This was one of those moments.
It had been one day since we’d heard from Remi.
And I told myself that was ok, that we all had a job to do. That we didn’t come here to hide, we came here to fight smart.
I kept repeating that as I sat cross-legged on the cabin floor, laptop open, drive humming softly beside me. But the silence pressed in from every angle, making each breath feel louder than it should’ve been.
Soft rustles of paper. The occasional creak of wood. The steady clack of Gray’s keyboard. Those were the only sounds inside the cabin, and somehow, they made the quiet worse.
Harlan sat at the kitchen table, sleeves rolled up, his hands buried in files and printouts. His brow was furrowed deep, the kind of focus you only get when betrayal and purpose finally meet. Jack stood near the window, one hand braced on the frame, the other holding his phone to his ear. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to find allies or ghosts.
I glanced at my phone for the hundredth time. Nothing from Remi. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the couch. The ache in my chest hadn’t eased since we left her. It wasn’t just fear. It was worse, that hollow kind of knowing that curls under your ribs and whispers that something is shifting, and you might not be able to shift with it.
