Page 149 of Shadowed Sins: Nitro

They're joking about nearly dying. For me. For my revenge.

Vanessa immediately moves toward him, unzipping the medical kit with practiced efficiency. "Sit down before you fall down."

"Little bunny, I'm fine."

"Your ribs look like abstract art." She points to the bench. "Sit."

Asher obeys with that rare smile he saves for her, settling carefully beside Damian. The contrast between them is striking—Asher's controlled precision next to Damian's coiled violence, but both watching their partners with identical protective intensity.

"International prosecution," Cole says, his analytical mind already processing implications. "That's bigger than killing him. Sets precedent."

"Your testimony will destroy him publicly," Remy adds, that diplomatic tone carrying weight. "Every victim gets their day through your words."

They're all here. All broken because they chose to fight my fight.

Four days of recovery, of Vanessa checking wounds, Cole making sure everyone eats, the team existing around my revenge like it matters to them.

"London proceedings could take weeks," Jax says, his voice carrying an edge that makes everyone's attention sharpen. His hands start moving again—that restless energy that means his mind is calculating odds, risks, how many betting apps he'd need to survive separation. "Then The Hague."

He's spiraling. I can see it in the way his fingers won't stop moving.

"Few weeks." I step closer, catching his hands to still them. "Then home."

Home. When did these people become home?

The word feels strange on my tongue. For seven years, home was whatever safe house I could find. Now it's these people. This man who conquered his deepest fear to save me.

Damian's quiet voice cuts through the moment, satisfaction threading through the words. "He'll wish you'd killed him."

There's professional pride in his tone. Not pleasure in causing pain, but satisfaction in breaking someone who deserved breaking.

Vanessa peels back the tape on Asher's ribs, making him hiss through his teeth. "Jesus, Frost. You pulled three stitches."

"Worth it."

"Sniper boy, I swear—"

The comm system crackles, interrupting her scolding. Holden's voice fills the hallway with clinical authority.

"Transport at 0800. Johnson takes custody." A pause that makes everyone tense. "One more thing—we intercepted chatter. Someone leaked the London testimony schedule."

Ice spreads through my chest. They know. The network knows.

"You'll have company at the courthouse. The network wants her silenced before she testifies."

Jax's hand finds mine, crushing hard enough to bruise. His separation anxiety just became survival fear. The drumming stops, replaced by stillness that's worse.

He's calculating odds again. Probability of keeping me safe across an ocean.

"How much company?" Kade asks, already calculating resources.

"Enough that I'm sending additional security. They know exactly where she'll be. When she'll be vulnerable."

Everyone shifts into combat mode despite their injuries. Petrov might be caged, but his network still hunts.

And now they know exactly where to find me.

thirty-four