Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
The mention of Enley lands like a punch I can’t block. I close my eyes again, trying to push away the image of that photo. The bruise. The tears. The way her voice sounded so small on the phone.
“I’m tired,” I admit. It slips out before I can stop it. Not just physically tired. The kind of tired that settles in your bones after months of looking over your shoulder. “Tired of watching people I care about get hurt because of shit that has nothing to do with them.”
Orchid is quiet for a long moment. When she speaks again her voice is lower, almost careful. “Then make it stop. Obey. Give Serafina what she wants. Your friends will survive. Your sister will survive. You might even survive.”
I want to believe her. Part of me, the exhausted, desperate part, wants to nod and say fine, tell me what to do and I’ll do it. But the rest of me knows better. Goldenbell doesn’t do clean endings. They do body bags and burned bridges.
I roll onto my side, facing away from her, staring at the gray wall. The bed is big enough that we’re not touching, but I can still feel her presence like static electricity. Beautiful. Dangerous. The kind of complication I don’t need right now.
She doesn’t lie down. She stays sitting up, back against the headboard, probably watching me. Waiting for me to try something stupid.
I don’t. Not tonight. My body is too heavy, my mind too loud with worries about Ozzy and the others. About what they must be saying right now. About whether Render is already digging through my old code looking for proof I betrayed them.
“Get some sleep, Poe,” Orchid says softly. It almost sounds like an order wrapped in concern. “Tomorrow will be long.”
I don’t answer. I just breathe slow and steady, pretending I’m already drifting off. Inside, my brain keeps spinning. Plans. Half-formed escape ideas. Ways to turn this around before it’s too late.
But right now, with the lights low and Orchid’s quiet breathing beside me, all I can do is lie here and wonder how the hell I’m going to save my sister without losing everything else.
And whether the woman watching over me is the key to getting out… or the lock that’s going to keep me trapped until Serafina decides I’m no longer useful.
The thought follows me down into uneasy sleep, tangled up with the memory of Orchid’s sharp eyes and the way she said obey like it was the simplest thing in the world.
It isn’t simple.
Nothing about this is.
But I’m too damn tired to figure it out tonight.
Tomorrow I’ll try again.
Tomorrow I’ll find a way.
For Enley.
For the team that probably hates me right now.
Even if it means going through the beautiful enforcer currently sharing my bed.
FOUR
ORCHID
The first gray light of morning sneaks through the narrow slit in the blackout curtains, painting the concrete room in dull shades. I wake before the alarm in my head even needs to go off. Years of training have turned me into someone who never sleeps deeply, especially not when there’s a dangerous man sharing my bed.
I stay perfectly still on my side of the mattress, eyes half-open, and watch Poe.
He’s out cold. His chest rises and falls in slow, even breaths. The hard lines of his face have softened in sleep, the constant tension gone for once. Dark hair falls across his forehead. One arm is flung above his head, the other resting near his ribs where the borrowed black t-shirt has ridden up just enough to show a strip of toned skin and the edge of that technical-looking tattoo.
He looks almost peaceful.
Almost human.
It’s annoying how beautiful he is when he’s not glaring at me or trying to calculate his next move. The kind of beautiful that could make a weaker woman forget he’s the enemy. I let my gaze trace the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint stubble coming in, the way his lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks. For a moment I let myself imagine what it would feel like to reach over and brush that hair back. Just to see if he would wake up swinging or pull me closer.
Stupid thought. Dangerous thought.
I push it away and sit up slowly, careful not to jostle the bed. My gun is still holstered against my ribs. The room feels colder now that the adrenaline from last night has faded into this quiet morning limbo. Arthur’s monitor beeps softly from the corner, a constant reminder that we’re not alone.
I swing my legs over the edge and stand, rolling my shoulders to work out the stiffness. Poe doesn’t stir. Good. Let him sleep a little longer. Exhausted men make more mistakes.
The lock on the door clicks softly. I tense, hand drifting toward my weapon out of habit. The door opens without a knock.