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FLINT CHECKED ELIZABETH in the rearview mirror as she slowly ran her hands over her still-unconscious dog and inspected him for injuries while sniffing back tears.

"Everything okay?"

"I'm n-not sure. I felt something under his fur..."

"Is he bleeding?"

"No, thank God. Maybe I'm just overreacting. Or maybe I'm still in shock. I can't believe Sunlight's with me again, and..."

He saw her swallow hard as her gaze sought his.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I don't know how I'll ever pay you back—-"

"You can start by telling me why you'd think I'd be the type to kill your dog just to stop him from barking."

Elizabeth's face reddened. "I'm so, so sorry."

He shot her an unimpressed look. "That's it?"

She started squirming in her seat. "W-What was I supposed to think?"

"Anything but that?"

"You stabbed him in the neck!"

"With a tranquilizer ."

"How was I supposed to know that?" she asked helplessly.

"Because I'm not a psychopath?"

"I never thought you were—-"

"So what then? Or are you just used to dating men who either abduct or stab your dog—-"

Elizabeth let out a gasp. "You know I never dated Migs—-"

Her voice noticeably faltered upon saying the other man's name and his grip tightened around the steering wheel.

"You really like saying his name, don't you?"

"I just forgot to call him Culo," she protested. "And...and aren't you the same? You've been...you've b-been judging me this whole time, too. Do you really think I'm the type of girl who'd date my roommate's boyfriend?"

No.

She was not the type to do so, and he had known that from the start.

Just like he also knew that the reason he was suddenly picking fights with her was because the reality of being apart from her had finally started sinking in.

And grown-up man that he was—-

He just didn't know how to fuckle handle it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His grip tightened around the wheel until his knuckles started to turn white.

Let her go.

If she really matters

Just fucking let her go.

"When we get to the airport," Flint heard himself say, "you take the first flight out. Doesn't matter where. I'll help you with Sunlight's paperwork. I just need the two of you out of his reach—-"

Elizabeth looked at him in confusion. "But I promised to help you—-"

"I'll take care of him without your help."

"But...didn't you also tell me that's what you've been trying and failing to do for years?"

"That's my problem," he bit out even as his stomach churned at the thought of never seeing her again. "So mind your fucking business."

Tears filled her eyes, but he told himself this, too, was necessary.

"I just—-"

"Just leave, dammit," Flint snarled out. He hated seeing the tears roll down her cheeks, hated himself for still wanting her even when he knew it was wrong. "If you care about keeping Sunlight alive, you'll do as I fucking say."

All he heard next was silence, and the sound was punishing and deafening. He knew he should let it end there, but instead he found himself once again checking the rearview mirror—-and his stomach dropped.

I felt something under his fur.

His mind raced as he connected the dots, and the truth hit him like a punch in the gut.

The stitches Elizabeth had felt under Sunlight’s fur, the ease with which they’d retrieved the dog—it had all been too convenient.

The bastard had been fucking with them from the start, and Flint had walked right into the trap.

Everything they had done, perhaps even from the moment they had visited Bucks to buy back Sunlight’s collar—

It had all been a fucking game.

And it was a game where all the fucking odds were in Dantes' favor.

"Get ready," he said tersely. "We're being followed."

Her eyes widened, her lips parting in a silent cry of dismay.

"They implanted a tracker in Sunlight. They wanted us to take her—-"

An SUV charged toward them out of nowhere, cutting his words short as Flint barely had enough time to slam on the brakes. Elizabeth's head banged against the window as their tires screeched to a stop.

Armed men spilled out of the other vehicle, surrounding them.

Game. Fucking. Over.