“Do what?”
“Pretend I can’t see you.”
The words hit too close.
I lower my voice. “I am handling it.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.” I force myself to meet her gaze fully. “It is the only answer I can give right now.”
Hurt flickers across her face before she hides it.
My chest tightens painfully.
Evie studies me for another moment, then exhales through her nose. “Okay.”
She does not believe me.
But she trusts me enough not to press in public.
That trust feels heavier than armor.
The transit skiff arrives in a rush of warm air and blue light. We board together. This time the ride feels different. Not ruined. The warmth between us still exists, but tension shadows the edges now. I sit beside her, broad shoulders angled toward the aisle automatically. She leans against me anyway.
I cannot relax.
My mind runs routes, contingencies, leverage points. Lenrog’s interest changes the shape of the city overnight.Organized crime notices what police ignore. A former Vakutan soldier protecting Halo’s bakery district, dismantling gangs, gathering quiet loyalty among civilians and tunnel residents—that attracts attention eventually.
And Evie stands at the center of my vulnerabilities like a lit candle in dark water.
“You’re thinking too hard again,” she murmurs against my arm.
“Yes.”
“About scary business man?”
“Yes.”
She tilts her head back slightly to look at me. “You want to tell me about it?”
No.
Yes.
I do not know.
The skiff lights paint gold along her hair. Downtown reflections fade behind us as the transit lanes descend toward Halo’s older infrastructure and dimmer streets. She still smells faintly like citrus drink pearls and vanilla gloss beneath the lingering sweetness of bakery flour. Her hand rests lightly against my forearm as though the contact is natural now.
I want to protect this.
The desire feels enormous enough to crack bone.
“It is complicated,” I say carefully.
“You know what I’ve learned about complicated?” she asks.
“What?”
