Page 27 of No Save Point

Right now, I just need to go. I take the steps two at a time, each footfall a little heavier, a little sharper, a little more deliberate.

When I’m at his door, without knocking, without giving him the chance to play innocent, I shove it open. Tate’s already sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, like he was just waiting for me to finally show up.

I exhale sharply, forcing my shoulders to stay loose, forcing my voice to stay level even as my chest tightens. “You think this is funny?” I ask, my voice low.

Tate tilts his head, mocking, unimpressed. “Which part?”

My jaw locks. “The part where you left your mask out on purpose.”

Tate doesn’t even pretend to play dumb. He just sits there, leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking up at me like he’s already won a game I didn’t even agree to play.

I shut the door behind me, not slamming it, but close. “Real subtle move, leaving that out,” I grit out, voice low, sharp, controlled.

Tate tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching up, amused. “She noticed it, huh?”

We both know she did, and we both know that if she had connected the dots just a little faster, this whole thing would be over.

Tate leans back against the headboard, arms sprawling out at his sides like he’s got all the time in the world. “Let me guess,” he grins. “She made a joke about me.”

My hands curl into fists at my sides. That’s all the answer he needs, he huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “God, that’s good.”

I step forward, jaw tight. “You’re fucking with her.”

Tate raises his brows, mocking. “No, Carter.Youare.”

That hits harder than I want it to. Haven doesn’t know, she doesn’t know how this entire night has been one long balancing act where I’m just waiting to fall straight through the fucking floor.

I breathe slow, force my muscles to relax, keep my voice steady. “She doesn’t need to know,” I say, the words coming out even, but the weight behind them isn’t up for negotiation.

Tate watches me for a second, studying me, weighing his options. Then he sits forward again, voice quieter this time. “What if I want her to?”

My breath locks in my throat. I’ve spent this entire time trying to keep the truth away from her. I take another step forward, lower my voice to something quiet, even, firm. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Tate.”

Tate smirks, like I’m the one missing something. “Who’s joking?”

I don’t answer, because I don’t like where this is going. For the first time since she got here, I’m starting to think Tate isn’t just fucking with me. He’s finally making his move.

Tate’s smirk doesn’t waver, his body already coiled like he’s about to launch into some new bullshit. He moves like he’s about to stand, but doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, considering, measuring, dragging this out just to make me sweat.

Then, right as I step forward, right as I reach to stop whatever the hell he’s about to do, he grins, eyes flashing with amusement. “You sure you don’t want to introduce me, little brother?”

My stomach drops. Before I can stop him, before I can throw out some excuse, before I can block the doorway or grab his arm or do anything to slow this down, he’s out of the room in a flash, down the hall in seconds, taking the stairs two at a time, moving so fast that I barely have a second to react.

“Fucker—” I bolt after him, tearing through the doorway, pushing off the railing, following the sound of his footsteps pounding against the hardwood.

He’s already there, standing at the bottom of the staircase, grinning like the devil himself, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes cutting toward Haven like this is the best thing that’s happened to him all night.

Haven? She freezes. I see it, the sharp inhale, the way she physically stills, the way her head tilts just slightly, like her brain is trying to process what the hell she’s looking at.

I reach the bottom of the stairs right after him, heart hammering, pulse racing, already waiting for the moment she pieces it all together. Instead, she blinks. She looks at me, then back at him. Then back at me again. Her mouth opens, closes.

“…Wait,” she finally breathes, brow furrowing, voice laced with pure disbelief.

Before either of us can say anything, before I can explain, before I can control the damage, before Tate can do whatever the hell he’s planning, she blurts out the obvious. “You’re twins?”

Tate grins wider, soaking in the moment like he’s been waiting for this exact reaction. I just stand there, gripping the railing, bracing myself.

I don’t know if I just got lucky, or if Tate just gave himself a front-row seat to the destruction that’s coming next.

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