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“Fine. We do this, but we need a foolproof plan. One where there is no way Skye can get hurt. You hear me, Jax? No matter the plan, and I don’t care how you do it, we need eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Got it.”

“Now, everyone, grab a drink. It’s time to figure this shit out.”

One way or another, we are getting Felix. I only pray there are no complications.

45

Skye

The guys are all gone. It’s just us. The plan is that tomorrow, I will resurface, and despite Tobias’s objections and my annoyance over being hacked, I’ll play the part I need to play of the concerned lawyer.

At this moment, rumors are circulating that Tobias Kosta died in the explosion. This is the narrative we want. Under this false story, we have time to move about and draw Felix out. Which also means I need to step up, go into the office, and set myself up to get Felix out of hiding.

It’s too much to think about right now. Instead of spending my night wondering and worrying, I intend to spend the little time I have with Tobias.

When we are back in the bedroom, I notice Tobias appears distant. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, his face is pointed in the opposite direction, and he’s locked in a stare. But there is nothing there. Knowing him, he’s looking off at a speck on the carpet and lost in his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tugs me closer to him, wrapping his arm around me as I rest my head on his shoulder.

“I’m thinking about how if he touches you, Skye—”

“He won’t,” I interject, moving to pull away. But Tobias won’t let me.

“You don’t know that. You can’t.” His voice sounds velvety smooth, yet it’s still laced with steel. “What if we’re out, and someone tries to hurt you?”

“That’s not going to happen. I can take care of myself.”

“But what if it does?”

“Tobias, I can handle myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I have worried about you for twenty years.” It feels as if my heart has broken open.

I’m briefly transported back to the past, when I’m still in the closet.

My eyes close of their own accord, and I can see it like it was yesterday. I want to reach out and touch the boy sitting across from me.

His movement from beside me has me returning to the present, but I wish I could go back in time and be there for him.

I can’t go back. I can only move forward. Live in the present.

Take care of him now. I want to heal him, calm him like he calmed me all those years ago.

“You can’t protect me all the time,” I say into his hair. “I’ll die of boredom if you try. I need you to let me live my own life and help you. We need to do this together. It’s the only way, Tobias. The present isn’t much different from the past. We lived through hell because we had each other.”

My words hang in the air. The room goes quiet around us. Neither of us speaks, probably because neither knows what to say. I look down at my hands, wringing my fingers together.

“Why do you think he lied to me?” I break the silence.

“That’s a question only he can answer.” The edge to his tone worries me.

“I need to speak to him.”

“You will, but not tonight.”

He moves from beside me and drops down to kneel in front of me. Taking my hands, he holds my wrist, swiping his finger over the sensitive spot.

“Skye, once this is over, we can get to the bottom of everything.” He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, then he opens them and looks at me. “I promise, but please, not before Felix is taken care of. I need to know you’re safe.”

I understand where he’s coming from. The same thoughts ran through my brain when I heard Felix was going to go after him. Even before I knew who he was and our connection, I couldn’t lose him. I didn’t want to live in a world without him.

Not then. Not now. Not ever. A sharp pain tears through me at the thought, and I realize . . . I love him.

I love Tobias Kosta.

I have loved him probably since the day I met him. The day in the closet when I found peace in the most horrific moment. The revelation takes my breath away. I’m too scared to love him and lose him. I can’t bear the thought of watching him die.

“What’s wrong?” His fingers have moved, and they are now tilting my chin up. In the reflection of his eyes, I see it. He doesn’t need to say anything because he loves me, too.

“You love me,” I whisper. Not a question but a statement. He nods.

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