Page 67 of Turmoil's Target

“Seraphina… she knows Jolt... she figured out we’re Reapers Rejects.”

Jolt sucks in a sharp breath. “Shit.”

“Yeah. I know.” The words come out muffled against my palms.

I hear him get up, start pacing.

The floorboards creak under his heavy footsteps. My mind is reeling, thoughts tangled and knotted.

I can still see the betrayal and hurt flashing across Seraphina’s face.

The way she recoiled from me, like my touch suddenly burned.

Her accusing voice still rings in my ears.

Each word was a dagger in my heart.

The worst part is—she’s right.

I did lie.

By omission maybe, but a lie all the same.

And now it’s cost me everything.

Jolt’s voice cuts through the agonizing memories.

“How’d she figure it out? I thought we covered our tracks.”

I lift my head, meet his concerned gaze with tormented eyes.

“I don’t know. We were so goddamn careful. I’ve been wracking my brain but I can’t figure out where we slipped up.”

He rubs a hand over his stubbled jaw, forehead pinched in thought.

“All right, let’s think this through. Walk me through exactly what happened...”

I take a shuddering breath and start recounting the devastating confrontation with Seraphina.

Each word feels like a knife in my gut, but I force them out.

We need to get to the bottom of this.

Figure out how she uncovered my true identity.

My mind spins in endless circles as Jolt listens, his face growing more grim with each detail.

When I finish, he blows out a heavy breath. “Shit, brother. This is bad.” He shakes his head. “Real fuckin’ bad.”

I clench my fists, fingernails biting into my palms.

The physical pain is a welcome distraction from the emotional agony shredding me to pieces.

What now?

Do we go back to the clubhouse and face the music?

Or stay here and try to figure out how the hell we salvage this clusterfuck?

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