Outside, the evening wrapped around him, warm and salt-heavy, the sky deepening toward dusk.He sat on the patio, bottle cool in his hand, listening to the chorus of frogs and insects rising and falling in waves.
Eliza joined him a few minutes later.
He didn’t comment on the bruises he could see now, or the shallow cuts, or the way she held herself carefully.Instead, he rose, fetched her a bottle of water and a bowl of salted peanuts, and set them within reach.
She looked at him.
Then—slow, tentative—she smiled.
The sight hit him harder than anything that night had thrown at them.
“If you want,” he said quietly, “I can get a doctor here.Or someone to talk to.Whenever you’re ready.”
She shook her head once.
“Okay,” he said.
They sat in silence, the sounds of the Keys—water against stone, distant birds settling, insects beginning their chorus—filling the space between them.For the first time in longer than he could remember, Kol felt something loosen in his chest.
Peace.
It didn’t mean the danger was gone.
But here, in the dark, with the water breathing and the night alive, it was quiet enough to believe they had time.
And for now, that was enough.
Chapter Five
Eliza woke with a sharpinhale, heart racing, certain for one disorienting moment that she was still there.
The panic came first—heat under her skin, breath stuck high in her chest, muscles locking as if bracing for impact.Her eyes flew open, searching for the familiar wrongness: concrete walls, buzzing lights, the table bolted to the floor, men walking toward her, hands on her.
None of it was there.
It took longer than she liked for reality to reassert itself.
