No more.
Logan dismisses the room twenty minutes later, but I don’t move right away.
Dom keeps working.
Landon gathers papers.
Joker slips out with Shadow.
Hammer heads for the hall to check rotations.
Cain pauses near me. “You good?”
“No.”
He nods like that’s the only honest answer. “Stay that way,” he says. “Good makes men sloppy.” Then he leaves.
Logan and I are alone for half a second before Dom looks up from the laptop. “She know?” Dom asks. I look at him. “How big this is?” he clarifies.
“No.”
“She needs to.”
“She knows enough.”
Logan cuts in. “She needs to know more than enough if they’re still coming for her.”
My jaw tightens. I hate that. Not because it’s wrong. Because it’s right.
Olivia doesn’t need lies. She doesn’t need soft edges that make the truth easier to swallow. She chose to stay with her eyes open, and every time we give her less than the truth, we treat her like she can’t hold it. She can. I’ve seen it. Still hate it.
“I’ll tell her,” I say.
Logan nods once.
Dom looks back at his screen. “I’ll keep digging.”
I turn toward the door. Then stop. “Dom.”
He looks up. “When you find the first thread…”
“I’ll call you.”
“No,” I say. His eyes sharpen. “When you find the first thread, you call Logan. Then me.”
A faint smile pulls at his mouth. “Look at you respecting chain of command.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Logan snorts. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
I leave.
The hallway noise hits me, muted compared to the office. The clubhouse is alive around me, but my focus goes one direction. Her.
Always her.
She’s somewhere in this building. Breathing. Moving. Maybe laughing with the women. Maybe curled in my room because her head still bothers her and she doesn’t want to admit it.
