Page 55 of Run While You Can

It was a message.

And she had the uneasy feeling that it wouldn’t be the last one.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Duke walkedAndi back to her room once dinner was finished, the quiet of the upper floors settling around them like a held breath.

The bartender had shown them the video of the man ordering the drink—hat pulled low, heavy jacket zipped high, his face angled just enough to stay out of view. No identifying features. No usable details.

Part of Duke hadn’t expected anything different. Still, the lack of progress left a dull ache behind his ribs. They needed a break—any break—and tonight hadn’t given them one.

The hallway was hushed, carpet absorbing the sound of their footsteps. Lights were dimmed for the night, everything softened into shadow and a low mechanical hum that made the space feel insulated from the outside world.

“You look exhausted,” Duke said as they slowed near her room.

She gave a weary smile, her shoulders sagging now that they were alone. “I am. Today felt like a week.”

“I get that.” He hesitated, then asked, “You turning in?”

“Definitely.” She stopped at her door, key card already in hand. “Tomorrow’s going to come fast.”

He nodded. They both knew it would—and neither of them voiced everything that tomorrow carried with it.

“Wait.” Duke stepped closer and took the key from her fingers, the contact brief but deliberate. “Let me check your room first.”

She didn’t argue. She never did, and the trust in that quiet compliance weighed on him more than any protest could have.

He swept the room methodically—the bathroom, the closet, the window, the connecting door. Everything was as it should be. No signs of entry. No disturbances. No wrongness clinging to the space.

Still, he paused longer than necessary, listening.

Only when he was satisfied did he step back toward her, exhaling slowly as some of the tension eased from his chest. He caught the familiar scent of her perfume in the air—light, comforting—and it grounded him.

“All clear,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He cupped her face and kissed her—slow and steady, meant to anchor them both. When he pulled back, she leaned in, resting her forehead briefly against his chest, her breath warm, her body heavy with exhaustion.

He didn’t want to let her go.

“Good night,” she murmured, her voice soft and tired, eyes already half-lidded.

“Good night,” he said. “Bolt the door.”

“I will.”

Duke waited until Andi’s lock clicked before stepping back into the hallway.

Inside his room, he repeated the same routine as he checked the bathroom, closet, window, and connecting door.

Everything was in place.

But it didn’t reassure him at all.

His phone rang. Ben.