Page 107 of Pucked Around and Found Out

“It's a fact,” Masen says, looking at him. “Toren is Steven Kellar's daughter. She knows things. Has access to things. The moment the cartel destabilizes, every rival organization in three states is going to come looking for her. The fact she is pregnant with a Devlin makes it worse.”

“Then we protect her,” Carnage says flatly.

“With what?” Masen challenges. “The Denver Kings? They're powerful, but they're not prepared for the kind of war that's coming if this empire collapses. You want to keep her safe? Help me keep the cartel stable.”

“Get out,” I say, my voice hollow. “Just... get out.”

Masen looks like he wants to say more, but Halo physically turns him toward the door and walks him out.

The moment they're gone, my legs give out.

Carnage catches me before I hit the floor, lowering us both to the sofa.

“He's lying,” I whisper. “He has to be lying about me being a target. About the baby⁠—”

“I don't think he is,” Carnage says quietly, and the honesty in his voice makes me want to scream.

“So what?” My voice breaks. “I'm supposed to just stand beside him tomorrow night? Pretend I'm okay with everything he's done? Pretend the Kellar family is fine?”

“I don't know,” Carnage admits. “But he's right about one thing, if the cartel falls apart, the chaos that follows won't care that you're not involved. It'll come for you anyway.”

I bury my face in my hands, the weight of it all crushing down on me.

“I can't do this,” I whisper. “I can't be what everyone needs me to be. I'm just... I'm just me. And I don't know how to handle any of this.”

“Then don't handle it alone,” Carnage says gently. “Tomorrow night, when you walk into that house, you'll have me beside you. You'll have Halo and the others. You're not facing this by yourself.”

“What if I make the wrong choice?” The question tears from my throat. “What if I stand beside Masen and it makes everything worse?”

“Then we deal with it,” he says simply. “But at least you'll have made a choice instead of letting fear make it for you.”

I look at him through my tears, and the steady certainty in his eyes steadies something in me.

“I'm scared,” I admit.

“Good,” he says. “Fear means you understand what's at stake. Means you're taking this seriously.”

“What would you do?” I ask. “If you were me?”

Carnage is quiet for a long moment, considering.

“I'd go tomorrow night,” he finally says. “I'd see what we're really dealing with. I'd listen to what the men have to say. And then I'd make a decision based on what I could live with, not what Masen wants or what anyone else expects.”

“And if I decide I can't do it? Can't stand beside him?”

“Then we leave,” he says firmly. “We get you and that baby somewhere safe and we let the chips fall where they may.”

The certainty in his voice makes me want to cry all over again.

“Why are you so good to me?” I whisper.

Something flickers in his expression—something warm, painful and impossible to name.

“Because someone has to be,” he says quietly. “And I'm selfish enough to want it to be me.”

The words hang between us, loaded with everything we're not saying.

Everything we can't say.