Page 209 of Midnight Curfew

“Fuck.” I shake, knowing they all must hate me for this. “I love him.”

I twist my head out of his hold, trying to hide. I know it’s not what they want to hear, and they’ll probably despise him more for making me run. And hate me for failing them again.

I thought being in love was giving up control, and maybe it is, but perhaps I understand now. My father was the one person my mother was afraid to miss. When he was gone, it finished her.

I’d rather love Callum than not. I know what I’m missing now. He fucking ruined me.

Every decision I’ve made since him was because of him. I love the way he looks at me.

I love the way he kisses me.

He got me to talk in a way no one else did, and I don’t want him to be without me.

Macon backs up, his voice crisp and clear. “Let’s bring him home, then,” he tells everyone.

My stomach flips, my chest swelling with a rush of adrenaline.

What?

I pop my head up, glancing at Krisjen and my siblings, their expressions the same as mine. “Are you serious?” I choke out to Macon.

His murmur is just for me. “This could be it.”

The Tryst Six motto, reminding us to never waste a day. To never leave a moment with regret. We’ve all failed to remember it at one time or another, but I needed to hear it. If I die tomorrow, I want him tonight.

“Gear up,” he tells everyone. “Let’s go get him.”

“Right now?” Army gripes, throwing out his hand to remind us all of the storm outside.

But Macon is already climbing the stairs.

“Macon, it’s lockdown!” Trace reminds him.

“And we’re getting our fucking treasure back, too!” he shouts back at us.

I lock eyes with my sister, my heart stopping for a moment.

Then a smile spreads across her mouth, her eyes gleaming. “Let’s do this!” she shouts.

Everyone mobilizes, and I nearly fly up the stairs. This is going to be fun.

31

Callum

Someone is reporting to my father, and I don’t mean just in regard to the Wolfe Room. It has to be a cop.

I hired a crew of three to clear out the tomb, and the police were there for protection against the Jaegers. They didn’t have a warrant, but the cemetery isn’t private land, and they have a right to inspect new constructions. Finding items consistent with typical stolen loot like coins, jewels, and solid gold and silver adornments was a natural cause for concern. That the items could be historically significant was the nail in the coffin.

We seized it and can probably prove the Jaegers have paid no taxes on anything they’ve managed to sell so far.

I took the truck, and no one I hired knew who I was, just day laborers who probably didn’t know what was in the boxes.

I move my eyes around the officers in the police station. Grady, Townsend, Fabre…

Where’s Army Jaeger?

Dallas’s brother always stuck out a little to me. He looks a lot like Dallas, just older—green eyes, tall, black hair—but there was something different in his eyes, not like the rest of them. Like he’s not really here. More present as an accessory to any action than a full participant.