Page 72 of Hunt Me

Silence stretches behind me. I feel my brothers’ eyes on us, witnessing what I never let anyone see—the crack in my armor.

“I’m going home.” Iris’s voice cuts through the tension. “I need to talk to Maya anyway.”

I spin around. “That makes her complicit. The moment you tell her what you found, she becomes a target.”

“She already knows everything about my search.” Iris doesn’t back down despite four Ivanov men staring at her. “She’s been helping me for two years. Every breach, every file I pulled on you and your family—Maya knew.”

“Then she’s already dead,” Nikolai says flatly.

“No.” Iris’s hands curl into fists. “She’s careful. She doesn’t leave traces.”

“Neither did you, supposedly.” Dmitri gestures to the screens showing Morrison’s surveillance logs. “And yet here we are.”

“Maya is my best friend. The only family I have left.” Iris’s voice shakes slightly. “I’m not abandoning her because you think it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s not about what we think,” Erik says quietly. “It’s about what they’ll do when they realize you breached Nightshade.”

“Then I’ll warn her. Tell her to disappear for a while.”

“And if Morrison’s already watching her apartment?” I step closer. “If they’re waiting to see who you contact after the breach?”

Iris meets my gaze. “I can’t just leave her in the dark, Alexi. She deserves to know what’s coming.”

“What’s coming is a bullet if you lead them straight to her.”

“So, what, I’m just supposed to stay here? Let you and your brothers handle everything while I hide behind your name?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck that.” She turns toward the bedroom. “I’m getting dressed and going home.”

I grab her wrist, pulling her back. “You walk out that door, you’re risking both of your lives.”

“I’ll text you later.”

She pulls free, disappearing into my bedroom. The sound of her gathering clothes punctuates the silence—fabric rustling, a zipper sliding, the soft thud of shoes hitting the floor.

My brothers watch me, waiting to see what I’ll do.

My instincts demand that I follow her and pin her against the wall, bind her wrists, and keep her here where I can protect her. She’s mine. Mine to guard, mine to control, mine to?—

“You going to let her walk?” Dmitri asks.

I stare at the closed bedroom door. The physical ache of restraining myself feels like strings pulling taut, ready to snap.

Iris emerges five minutes later, fully dressed in the black jeans and fitted top she wore yesterday. Her platinum hair is pulled back, ice-blue eyes carefully blank.

She doesn’t look at me as she heads for the door.

“Iris.”

She pauses, hand on the knob.

“Your phone. Give it to me.”

Now she turns, eyebrow raised. “Excuse me?”

“If Morrison’s tracking your communications, you’re broadcasting your location every second you keep it on.” I hold out my hand. “Unless you want to lead them straight to Maya.”