Page 93

Story: King of Power

Naomi straightens in her chair, her shoulders squaring. “I keep thinking about who I used to be. Before Lucas. I was going to open my own bakery, you know? I had all these dreams.”

“Those dreams aren’t dead,” I tell her. “They’re just waiting for you to be ready to chase them again.”

“And when you are,” Olivia says, “you’ll have us backing you every step of the way. That’s what this sisterhood is about.”

“She’s right.” Lydia reaches over and takes Naomi’s hand. “We’re stronger together. Each of us has been where you are, and each of us found our way back to ourselves. You will too.”

A tear rolls down Naomi’s cheek, but she’s smiling now. “When Micah brought me here, I was so scared. But you all understand. You really understand.”

“And we’re not going anywhere,” I promise her. “Whether you need someone to talk to at three in the morning, or help finding a lawyer, or just a shoulder to cry on—we’ve got you.”

For the first time since she walked in, I see real hope in Naomi’s eyes. It’s the same look I remember seeing in my own reflection the day I realized I wasn’t alone anymore.

I leanagainst the folding table as Naomi hugs Lydia goodbye. Something warm unfurls in my chest at the exchange.

“Want to grab a drink?” Olivia asks, shouldering her designer purse. “I could use something stronger than support meeting coffee.”

My phone buzzes in my back pocket. Probably Zeke checking in. He’s been hovering since my breakdown earlier, like he expects me to take off and never come back. I don’t blame him. I was emotional.

I pull out my phone, the screen lighting up with a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Caller

Someone’s going to die.

My fingers go numb, and I almost drop the phone. The fluorescent lights are suddenly too harsh. My heart pounds against my ribs as memories from the last several weeks flood my thoughts.

“Eve?” Olivia touches my arm. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I try to speak but my throat’s too tight. Instead, I hold up my phone with trembling fingers. Olivia reads the message, her face draining of color.

“Shit,” she whispers. “That’s—fuck. Do you think it’s connected to what happened to Seb?”

Everything has to be connected. The attack at my house, the string of brutal rapes, Seb getting shot, the messages … they’re escalating. And I’m trapped in the middle.

“We should tell Zeke,” Olivia says, already reaching for her phone.

My stomach lurches. “No.” The word comes out sharper than intended. “Not yet. I need to think.”

But all I can think about is blood in our house, the gun in my hand, and the sickening certainty that someoneisgoing to die because of me.

My hands shake as I shove my phone into my back pocket, desperate to hide the threatening text from view. But I can’t hide from the implications—or from the cold fear slithering down my spine.

“Eve?” Olivia’s voice is distant, muffled by the thundering of my pulse in my ears. “Maybe we should—”

“I need air.” I’m already moving toward the exit. The lights blur overhead as I push through the double doors into the cool night air. It feels like someone’s wrapped steel bands around my ribs.

Leaning against the rough brick wall, I try to steady my breathing. But all I can think about is Leo sleeping peacefully at home. And Zeke—God, Zeke with his stubborn pride and his need to protect everyone. I picture him bleeding on our floor just like his brother.

A car backfires somewhere in the distance, and I flinch hard enough to scrape my knuckles against the brick. The pain barely registers through the fog of panic. Someone wants to hurt us—wants to hurt them, the people I love. Is it because of me? Because I’m a cop? Or is it because of whatever Zeke and Seb were doing when they got ambushed?

My phone feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket. I should report the threat, follow protocol, let my department handle it. But that would mean exposing Zeke’s world to scrutiny, and I’ve seen enough to know it would end badly for everyone.

The steel bands around my ribs tighten. I’m supposed to protect people, uphold the law. Instead, I’m standing here, paralyzed by fear and indecision while threats pile up around us like storm clouds.

The door creaks open behind me. “Eve?” Lydia’s voice is gentle. “Come back inside. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

My hands shake as I turn to face my friends. They’re all there—Lydia with her concerned mother-hen expression, Olivia looking fierce and ready for battle, and even Naomi, hesitant but present.