Page 105 of Priest

“I know she is,” he said quietly.

“And if she is?”

He finally looked at her fully. “Then she’s gambling with people I care about.”

Jazzy nodded once. No teasing now. No games. That was the thing about her most people missed. She wore glitter and flirt like armor, but she listened. She watched too. Maybe not the way Ghost did, maybe not with wires and feeds and quiet patterns, but she saw enough to know when the ground under the club was starting to shift.

His mind began rearranging pieces.

You didn’t bring a burner into a place you were hiding unless you were talking to someone you shouldn’t be. You didn’t keep it charged unless the line mattered. You didn’t tuck it away in the middle of the clubhouse unless you felt safe enough to get arrogant.

“Good work,” he said evenly.

Jazzy grinned, though the edge in her eyes stayed sharp. “If this gets her kicked out, I expect front-row seats.”

Ghost gave the smallest incline of his head.

She slipped back into the noise, and he stayed at the bar a moment longer, staring at nothing while everything inside him clicked into place.

Sadie hadn’t just kept a burner.

She’d kept it here.

In their house.

That was confidence. Worse, it was comfort, and comfort meant she thought she had leverage.

His jaw tightened as he turned the question over in his mind, cold and precise.

Who are you talkin’ to, Sadie?

Whoever it was, Ghost intended to find them first.

34

Blue

I glanced at the clock overhead, noting how quickly my shift was flying by. The ER buzzed with the familiar chaos of the day, but I felt the pressing need to step back, even if only for a moment. My feet ached, my lower back had started its usual late-shift complaint, and my brain felt like it had been juggling trauma charts, family members, and discharge instructions with one hand tied behind its back.

I spotted Lila and Evan at the nurses station and headed straight for them.

“Hey, Lila, Evan,” I called, my voice cutting through the noise as I approached. “I need a break. Can we have a minor ‘chaos unpacking’ session?”

Evan practically bounced in his chair, eyes sparkling like I’d just offered him premium gossip wrapped in a pastry box. “Emergency caffeine and gossip? Oh, twist my arm! If there’s whipped cream involved, I’ll even spill my own secrets.”

Lila looked up from the chart she was finishing, her gaze moving over my face with the quiet accuracy that always made me feel a little too seen. “You’ve got the look.”

“What look?” I asked.

“The one that says you’re either about to cry or murder somebody,” Lila said mildly, clicking her pen closed. “So yes, break.”

“Hot chocolate for me, obviously,” I said, grinning.

Evan pushed away from the desk like a man accepting a sacred mission. “And something with frosting. I’m emotionally available, but I require fuel.”

Lila shook her head, but she was smiling as we escaped the ER and headed for the cafeteria. The place was quieter than the department behind us, full of low voices, old coffee, and a wall of pastries that Evan eyed like forbidden treasure.

Once we were settled at a small table, I cupped my hot chocolate in both hands and stalled. Lila let me have the silence. Evan tried to, which for him meant lasting almost nine full seconds before leaning forward with barely contained impatience.