Stronger now.
Steadier.
“Yeah,” she whispers.
Yeah.
She is.
And that’s exactly why this isn’t over.
Not even close.
26
Ace
Idon’t relax when the road clears.
Not after a hit like that.
“Keep going,” I tell Blaze.
He nods, eyes locked ahead. “Ten more minutes and we’re off anything they can track easy.”
Good.
Trigger’s still scanning mirrors. Beast hasn’t moved from the back, solid as a wall. Tessa’s beside me—quiet, steady, breathing a little easier now.
But I can still feel the tremor in her hand.
I don’t let go.
“Talk to me,” I say.
Blaze glances at the screen mounted near the dash. “I’ve got traffic cams picking us up three intersections back. That sedan clipped our rear panel—paint transfer.”
“Plate?” I ask.
“Partial,” he says. “But I’ve got enough.”
“Run it.”
“Already am.”
We roll through a turn, then another. Houses thin out. Road opens.
My phone buzzes.
Blaze’s tone changes a second later. “Got it.”
“Say it.”
“Sedan is registered to a shell LLC. Surprise.” He types faster. “Tracing ownership… there we go.”
He exhales.
“Connected to a county fleet maintenance account.”
