Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
They were going to send it to the people already working on Maddox’s case. People who, until now, only had whispers. The evidence Gabby found had lit a match, but what the others were uncovering could burn his whole damn empire down.
And as much as I didn’t want to ruin this moment—her laughter, her joy, and the ease in her shoulders I hadn’t seen since she got here—I knew I couldn’t keep playing it down.
I was going to have to tell her soon. And when I did, that smile might not come back for a while.
So, I let her have it, this ridiculous, perfect moment. Her feet kicked out in front of her, absurd flip-flops askew, hair full of leaves and righteous vengeance.
She caught me watching her and raised a brow. “What?”
I shook my head, smiling faintly. “Nothing, I'm just glad you’re here.”
Her expression softened. “Even though I might’ve just summoned an ancient water beast?”
“Especially because of that.”
She laughed again, quietly this time, like it was just between us and the trees. And I promised myself that she’d get more moments like this.
Whatever it took.
Even if I had to fight the damn Kraken myself.
Chapter Twelve
Webb
The night had curled in quiet around us, the way it always did out here—soft and dark, with only the firepit crackling between us and the wilderness beyond.
Gabby sat across from me in one of the old camp chairs, knees pulled to her chest, the bottom of her t-shirt tugged over them. She was calm, but it was the kind of calm that came after laughter. The fragile type and the kind that could tip either way.
And I was about to tip it.
The news had been sitting in my chest all afternoon, burning a hole in my ribs. I’d wanted her to have the peace of the bayou, the laughing meltdown over a frog-eating monster, and the silliness of that moment. But it was gone now, banked like the fire.
It was time.
I shifted forward, elbows on my knees. “Matty called again while you were in the cabin earlier.”
Her gaze lifted toward me, a shadow crossing her face.
“He had his guys watching Barris, and they followed him to a meet-up with two guys we hadn’t seen before. They weren't the regular crew. These were more organized and professional, so Matty did some digging.”
Gabby’s arms tightened around her legs.
“They’re connected to one of Maddox’s shell companies. Word is, Barris isn’t just looking for you anymore. He’s passed your name along and outsourced the problem.” I hesitated, then said it plainly. “It looks like Maddox wants you gone permanently. Not just silenced but removed.”
Gabby didn’t say anything at first. She didn’t even flinch. She just stared into the fire, her eyes fixed on the shifting orange glow.
And then I saw it, the tear. It slid down her cheek in the silence, catching the firelight like a falling star, and something in my chest cracked.
“I love my family,” she said quietly. “I also adore my friends, even the ones who drive me crazy.”
I stayed still and didn’t interrupt.
“I thought maybe I’d have a chance to say goodbye if it ever came to that.” Her voice wavered, soft and raw. “But I didn’t think I’d die this young, at least not without warning and a little bit more time. I mean, I’m only twenty-five.”
She sniffled, not dramatically, just like her body was trying to hold everything in and was finally losing the battle.
“I wanted to go to Italy,” she whispered. “I wanted to adopt a Bernese Mountain dog that scared everyone but was secretly a marshmallow. I wanted to wear red lipstick more. I wanted to dance with someone who made me feel like… like I wasn’t just the quiet one who notices everything.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood, crossed to her chair, and gently wrapped my hands under her arms. She looked up at me, startled, but didn’t resist when I lifted her out of the seat and settled her on my lap, arms around her, with my chin brushing her temple.
“You’re not dying,” I said gruffly into her hair. “We’re not letting that happen.”
She clutched the front of my shirt, knuckles white.
“I set traps today,” I told her. “And I’ll set more tomorrow. And coming from my family means some creative, wildly unsafe contraptions that would make MacGyver cry.”
She choked out a laugh—sharp and wet and broken—then buried her face in my shoulder and bawled.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she sobbed. “You’re helping me, and they’ll come for you.”
I tightened my arms around her. “I’ve survived worse. Maddox and his goons don’t scare me, not when it’s you on the line.”
She cried harder, and I just held her—the kind of hold that says I'm not letting go, no matter what. The kind you don’t give unless you mean it.