That thought hits harder than anything else.
I glance down at Hadley, brushing a hand over her hair, grounding myself in something real for half a second. “Hey,” I say softly. “You want to go grab a drink?”
She looks up at me, surprised. “Now?”
“Just for a minute,” I tell her. “It’s loud down here.”
She hesitates, glancing back toward the arena, then nods, trusting me even if she doesn’t understand why I’m suddenly pulling back.
I take her hand and guide her away from the rail, weaving through the crowd, putting distance between us and whatever is about to happen next.
But it doesn’t feel like enough.
We stop near one of the vendor stands, my chest tight and my focus still locked on the arena. The noise shifting into something more scattered, less focused, but my attention doesn’t follow it.It stays locked on the arena, on the space I just walked away from. On the man still standing in the middle of something I don’t fully understand.
And then I feel it. That awareness.
The same one from yesterday.
Like someone’s watching.
My gaze shifts without thinking, scanning the edge of the lot again, and the truck is still there, still angled toward the exit, too still for comfort.
A chill moves down my spine.
Because now I’m not just noticing it.
I’m reacting to it.
“Riley.”
His voice hits before I see him.
I turn, and Jace is there, close enough that the noise drops away just a fraction, his presence cutting through everything else like it always has.
Up close, the tension in him is impossible to miss.
“What are you doing?” I ask, the question coming out quieter than I expect.
“Making sure you’re not standing by that rail right now,” he answers, his gaze flicking briefly past me, checking the surroundings before coming back.
Something in my chest shifts hard at that.
Because this isn’t casual.
This isn’t coincidence.
“You knew,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Something’s wrong.”
His jaw tightens just enough to confirm it.
“Yeah,” he says. “And I need you to listen to me.”
The seriousness in his tone cuts through everything else, leaving no room to argue, no space to brush it off.
I nod.
“Stay away from the chutes,” he continues, his voice low and controlled. “Stay where I can see you. Don’t go near the outer lot.”
