Page 121 of BounBound By Scars

A terrified whisper—like a child repeating a prayer he didn’t believe would be answered.

“There’s no 900… without…” He choked. “P-please, Amelia.”

Fuck.

I knew about their thing. Their old Bridgewood badge numbers. Dylan’s ended with 900. Amelia, 901.

His chant continued. Soft. Broken.

“No 900… no 900…”

“Dyl—”

He flinched like I’d slapped him. Turned around, and those gray eyes—the same ones I loved in her—were wrecked. Hollowed out.

He didn’t say a word. Just brushed past me, stormed out like the air was poison.

Leaving me.

With the machines humming.

Alone—with my heart quietly dying right besides hers.

???

I looked around the lounge table.

Dylan wasn’t here.

And for the first time since D.C., I had managed to sit with the entire team or what was left of it. But even now, the absence was louder than the chatter.

Amelia.

Dylan.

Zane.

The missing chairs might as well have been outlined in blood. We were all pretending things were fine. I was pretending. And I was doing a piss-poor job of it.

“What’s the status on the data?” Zarek asked, voice low but cutting through the murmur of conversation.

It took a few seconds too long for his words to register.

The data.

The Sentrix.

The entire reason I had been in that godforsaken Situation Room in the first place.

“I haven’t…” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I haven’t gotten to it yet.”

Zarek gave me a nod, like he understood. But then he said the one thing that gutted me open.

“I understand. But Cipher… with Zane gone…” His voice trailed for a second, just a beat. “You’re the only tech asset we—”

“Ghost!” Logan snapped but the words were out there now. Sharp words plated with a gentle tone.

Cipher.

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