“Yeah. He’s really suffering.” She laughed. “But we use Win’s pool, and it’s got a beautiful view of the ocean on the beach side.”
“You know, you could use your portion of the inheritance Mom left us and get your own beach house.”
Emberly laughed. “Yeah, unfortunately, two mil, even though it’s a nice nest egg, won’t get me anything bigger than a cabin on the beach. No, I like your place for now—two blocks off the beach, cute, three bedroom—it’ll be beautiful when we get it done.”
“It’s not my place anymore.” Oh, she hadn’t meant to sound bitter.
“It will be again, Nim. We’ll get it sorted.”
She sighed, but the memory of the fire burned through her. No, the Russian mob had taken her peace, her security from her. “We’ll see.”
A sudden whirring roar shattered the quiet outside—the unmistakable thump of helicopter blades slicing through air.
Moving on target.
“Helicopter.” Nimue froze. “I’ve got to go.”
“What—” Emberly was shouting even as Nimue’s phone clattered to the countertop. Nimue lunged toward her tech hub. “No, no, no.”
The sound thundered closer, vibrating through the bus’s frame. No. She’d been so careful, rerouting signals, masking her location.
She flipped through her camera feeds, pulse hammering in her ears. Pine branches swayed in the wind from the rotors, but she couldn’t see the chopper. The third feed caught it—a figure sliding down the drop line, black against the sky.
Her breath hitched. The bus could move, but not fast enough. She’d have to ditch it, grab her go bag, disappear into the canyon?—
She clicked to the fourth camera and let out a sigh. A red cross blazed across the helicopter’s side.
Medical team. Not Bratva.
She closed her eyes as adrenaline flushed from her system, leaving her limbs heavy and warm. The walnut frame of the bench creaked as she sank onto it, cushions shifting under her weight. She exhaled a shaky laugh.
Emberly’s voice still yelled from the phone, tinny and distant.
She picked it up, wincing at her sister’s harsh tone. “It’s fine. Just a medevac. But we should end this. Secure line or not…”
She didn’t need to finish. The Bratva had hackers working for them—maybe not as good as her, but close enough.
“I still say the Bratva wouldn’t put this many resources on you unless you have something they want. Or wantback.”
“I’ll go through the files again. But I really don’t know what they’re after.”
“Stay safe, sis. And if you need us?—”
“Love you.” Nimue ended the call and leaned forward, pulling up the feeds again. Her cameras weren’t just for security—they were her eyes, her connection to a world she couldn’t risk joining.
She cycled through angles until one locked onto the scene—a jagged cliff edge with a cluster of figures in ranger tan at the top. The way the lip of the canyon snaked back and forth in this area, her east-facing cameras had a clear shot across a fifty-foot gap in the canyon.
Someone was injured. She rewound the footage, watching the fall unfold in reverse.
Her stomach dropped at the image of the small girl tumbling over the cliff. The helplessness clawed at her chest—biting, familiar. The same powerlessness she’d felt too often as a child, watching bad things happen to people she couldn’t protect.
She zoomed in as far as her lenses allowed, the grainy image sharpening just enough to catch the rescue unfolding.
A ranger in climbing gear rappelled down the cliff face, broad shoulders straining against his harness. Dark hair whipped in the wind, just long enough to look untamed. She couldn’t make out his eyes from this distance, but his intensity cut through the screen—focused, unyielding.
Nimue held her breath as he reached the girl. His movements were controlled, deliberate. He immobilized her leg, then her neck, before he secured her to his line. She clung to his shoulders as he pulled them both up.
At the top, another ranger—long blond hair tied back, full beard—grabbed his arm, hauling them both over the edge. A woman in a medic’s vest knelt beside the girl, checking the splint.
