Page 63

Boone goes still beside me.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Gunner clarifies. “Smuggling. Arms. Labor. Controlled movement of undocumented bodies through locked channels.”

Boone stares at the screen. “And Davit?”

“Not just an errand boy. He’s earned his seat. Your girl was the final link to lock in one of the political families still on the fence. Marriage would’ve closed the deal.”

I feel my pulse at the base of my throat. Boone doesn’t blink, but I see it in the way his fingers curl against his biceps.

“Boone,” Gunner says in a low voice, “I know that look.”

Boone doesn’t answer for a moment. His jaw is locked as he stares at the screen. When he finally speaks, his voice is sharp enough to cut concrete. “She brought this to our door.”

I look at him hard. “You think she wanted to? She didn’t ask us to take her in, we offered.”

He laughs once, short and bitter. “No. She just showed up with a fucking target on her back.”

“She also showed up terrified and alone, with nowhere else to go.”

Boone glares at me. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do I.

I nod toward the screen. “They were going to bury her. Use her. Break her. We might not have known that then, but we knew she was scared and running from something. So we let her in. And I’d do it again.”

Boone exhales hard through his nose. “You’d knowingly put Mae in danger? This doesn’t go away—you know that.”

“That’s why we’re here, Boone. To protect what’s ours. That includes Ani whether you like it or not. She’sours. And even ifyoudon’t want her—which we both know is bullshit by the way—she belongs to Finn. You gonna tell him he can’t keep her? Or are you gonna make him leave with her?”

Boone crosses his arms and looks away from me.

Gunner clears his throat. “Everything I’ve got’s on this drive. I scrubbed the metadata. No digital breadcrumbs.”

Boone straightens. “Anyone else know we’re asking questions?”

“No,” he says. “But they probably already know what you’re doing at this point.”

Boone nods once. His shoulders stay tight. “Then we don’t have much time.”

Gunner hands over the drive. “Then I won’t keep you.”

He doesn’t wish us luck.

And we’re too far in for luck to matter.

We find the closest coffee shop and order a couple of coffees and sandwiches.

I take a seat that keeps the door in view. Boone stays standing until he checks every face in the room, then finally settles across from me.

The sun is rising now and the streets aren’t busy, but there are enough people around to make us keep our voices low.

We drink in silence for a few minutes. I tear a corner off the sandwich and pop it into my mouth. Boone stares through the window, sandwich untouched.

I pull out my phone. I haven’t checked anything since we left the cabin. I don’t want to read headlines, but I need to know what’s going on. If her family is trying to blame her for the motel fire, who knows what else they’ll do.

There’s not just one new story, there’s dozens.

“Brighton Hills Heiress Disappears Night Before Lavish Wedding.”

“Sources Confirm Fears of Mental Breakdown or Foul Play.”