“I’ll take my chances,” I whisper. Tears burn in my eyes but I blink them back hard. “Please. Just… let me leave. I’ll figure it out.”
Boyd guides me back to the bed and helps me sit on the edge. He crouches in front of me so we’re eye level. His gaze is calm, but there’s something fierce underneath it. Protective.
“No one’s coming for you here,” he says quietly. “Not unless you want them to. We haven’t called your father. We haven’t told anyone outside the compound that you’re here. You’re safe.”
Safe. There’s that word again. I want to laugh, but it would probably hurt too much.
“You don’t know my father,” I say. My voice wavers. “If he finds out where I am, he’ll come. And he won’t come alone. He has people. Money. Power. I saw things I wasn’t supposed to see. That’s why they tried to kill me on that road. If I stay here, I’m putting all of you in danger.”
Boyd stays crouched in front of me. He does not interrupt. He just listens. When I finish, he is quiet for a long moment.
“Then we handle it,” he says simply. “This place was built for people running from dangerous things. You’re not the first. I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
I stare at him. He looks completely serious. Like offering to go up against a man like Viktor Lane is just another day for him.
“I don’t even know you,” I whisper.
His mouth twitches. Not quite a smile, but close. “You know enough. I pulled you out of a wrecked car in the middle of a storm. I haven’t left this room since. That should tell you something.”
It does. It tells me he’s either incredibly kind or incredibly dangerous. Maybe both. And right now I can’t tell which one scares me more.
I look down at my hands. They’re covered in small cuts and bruises. My mind races. I keep seeing my father’s cold smile the night I confronted him about the books. The way he said my name like it was a warning. The black SUV that tried to run me off the road two days later. I ran because I had no choice. Now I’m here, broken and trapped in a stranger’s cabin, and this man, Boyd, knows my name. He has had days to look me up. Days to call my father.
What if he already did?
What if my father is already on his way?
The thought makes my chest tighten so hard I can barely breathe. I’ve spent weeks looking over my shoulder. I’ve slept in my car, used cash only, avoided cameras. I can’t let all of that be for nothing.
“I can’t trust this,” I say, more to myself than to him. “I want to. God, I want to. But I’ve been wrong before. People say they’ll help and then they hand you right back to the monster.”
Boyd doesn’t move. He just stays there, crouched in front of me, steady as stone.
“I get it,” he says finally. “You don’t have to trust me yet. But you’re staying until you can walk out of here on your own. That’snot up for discussion. You’re hurt too bad to go anywhere right now.”
I want to argue. I want to demand he take me to the nearest town and drop me off. But my body feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Literally. My leg throbs so badly I can’t even put weight on it. My ribs scream with every breath. The thought of facing the world alone again, broken and bleeding, makes me want to curl up and disappear.
“Okay,” I say finally, voice small and defeated. “For now. But as soon as I can walk…”
“We’ll talk about it then,” he says.
He helps me lie back down. The pillows feel heavenly against my aching head. He pulls the blankets up and tucks them around me with surprising gentleness for someone who looks like he could bench press a truck.
“You need more rest,” he says. “Eli will be by soon to check on you. The women brought some clothes and toiletries. They’re on the dresser. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”
I nod, already feeling exhaustion pull at me again. My eyes drift shut despite how hard I try to keep them open. The fear’s still there, churning in my stomach, but Boyd’s presence feels solid. Too solid. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to turn out to be just like everyone else who promised to help.
Before sleep takes me, I hear Boyd settle back into the chair. His voice is quiet in the dim room.
“Sleep, Piper. I’ve got you.”
For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe it might be true. Even if only for a little while.
FIVE
BOYD
I haven’t left the chair in five days.
