Page 98 of Shadow

He blinked, frowned. Then, “Yeah.”

Yeah.

She crossed to Destiny. Sat beside her on the bed. Put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to get you there. I promise you that. No matter what happens. No matter who we can or can’t trust. You’re going to testify. You’re going to put Draven Frost away. And then this will be over.”

Destiny nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so scared.”

“I know. But you’re brave. And you’re strong. And in a week, this will all be finished.”

One week.

One week to rebuild the walls. Restore the compartments. Remember that professional distance wasn’t cruelty—it was survival.

One week to stop falling before the fall killed her.

Destiny leaned against her. Daphne put an arm around her shoulders.

She could handle this. This was her job. This was what she was good at.

Protecting people. Keeping them safe. Getting them where they needed to go.

Not falling in love. Not trusting. Not depending.

Asher headed for the adjoining door. Stopped. Looked back at her.

“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “I meant what I said. I’m not going to betray you. I would never hurt you. You can trust me.”

Daphne met his eyes, her throat filling.

She wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust him. Wanted to go back to tonight when dancing with him had felt safe and real and right.

“I’ll take first watch,” she said. “Get some sleep. I’ll figure out our next move.”

Asher held her gaze for another moment. Then nodded and went into the other room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Daphne stood. Moved to the window. Checked the parking lot. Two cars. Theirs and one other. No movement. No threats.

She pulled her weapon. Checked the magazine. Chambered a round. Set it on the nightstand within easy reach.

Then she settled into the chair by the window. Watch position. Clear view of the door. Clear view of the parking lot. Clear view of any threat that might come.

This, she knew how to do.

Behind her, Destiny’s breathing slowed. Evened out. Sleep finally claiming her.

Daphne sat in the darkness. Watching. Waiting. Protecting.

Rebuilding the walls, one breath at a time.

Asher should have told her everything last night. But maybe it didn’t matter. Destiny and Roger were still alive.

And he meant to keep them that way.

Sitting in his motel chair, on watch with morning light spilling in past the curtains and Roger snoring and his ribs screaming, Asher needed this to be over.

Draven wasn’t going to wait for him to take out Roger and Destiny.

Which meant that Asher needed to take out Draven.