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She leans in without hesitation. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her in, pressing her tight against my chest.Her breathing evens out eventually. She lets herself be held. And it’s not something I take for granted.

I press my lips to her temple. “We’ve got you,” I whisper. “No matter what comes.”

She nods against me, and we sit there until the chill sets in. When I finally let her go, she squeezes my hand once before stepping back inside. I wait until the door clicks shut behind her.

Boone joins me on the porch a few minutes later.

He doesn’t say anything. He leans against the railing, arms folded across his chest, eyes scanning the trees.

I cross the porch and stop beside him. “You think it’s Davit?”

“I think it could be,” he says without looking at me. “But it could just as easily be her father’s people. Or both. Or someone else entirely.”

“So we hit first.”

Boone’s jaw tightens. “We hold the line.”

I turn to face him. “You really think playing defense is going to make them back off?”

“It’s not about backing off,” he says. “It’s about keeping them out until we know who’s driving the damn car.”

“And if we wait too long?”

He finally looks at me. “Then we do what we’ve always done.”

My shoulders tense, but I nod once. I understand what that means.

We hold the line. Until the moment we don’t.

Then we end it.

Chapter 22

Ani

The boys are trying to pretend that they’re not tiptoeing around me but they’re failing miserably.

Jonah can’t stop watching me, like he’s afraid I’m going to disappear. Finn has gone from sweet to borderline overbearing, offering food every hour and hovering.

But it’s Boone who’s having the hardest time. He doesn’t hover or ask questions or play caretaker. He keeps his distance and says very little, but carries tension in every part of his body. He seems to be trying not to snap.

I desperately want to soothe him.

So, I bide my time. I wait until Mae is settled with Finn and Jonah has taken his coffee out on the porch. Boone is in the kitchen, washing up after breakfast. He hears me come in, but he doesn’t stop or acknowledge my presence.

“You okay?” I ask.

His answer is immediate. “Fine.”

It’s the kind of fine that isn’t fine at all. I’m very familiar with this kind of fine.

“You’re clenching,” I point out.

He shoots me a look. “I’m not in the mood, Anie.”

“You haven’t been in the mood for days.”

“Because we’ve had to set up goddamn perimeter coverage around the house. I’ve been preparing for war—a war you brought.”