Page 134 of Without a Trace
“Morning,” I said, too casually moving straight for the coffee. Grabbing a mug, I poured slow, pretending not to feel their eyes all over me.
Rhett cleared his throat. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” I replied, sipping.
Kane snorted. “Uh-huh.”
Zeke tilted his head. “That’s Trace’s shirt.”
I shrugged. “It was dark. Could’ve been Alden’s.”
Rhett coughed into his mug.
Kane leaned back in his chair and dragged a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Holy shit.”
I turned, leaned my hip into the counter, and met their eyes one by one. “Something funny?”
“No,” Kane said. “Just bracing for the fallout when those two show up.”
Zeke didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. He set his mug down—hard. The ceramic cracked against the granite, loud enough to make Rhett blink.
Then silence.
Heavy.
The kind that pressed into your chest and made you feel watched.
Zeke’s eyes hadn’t moved from me.
“You feel different,” he said.
The words hit harder than they should have. “Excuse me?”
He pointed subtly—not at me, but at my wrist. “Your energy. It’s changed.”
I gripped my mug tighter.
“You guys are being weird,” I said. “Someone better start explaining.”
No one did.
Rhett looked down. Kane shook his head slowly, like whatever this was had just confirmed something. Zeke? He just stared. Not rude. Not afraid.
Almost… reverent.
The villa door creaked behind me. Footsteps. Trace. Then Alden.
I didn’t turn.
I felt the shift in the room. The way the other three glanced between each other. Their expressions sharpened, eyes flicking toward the two who had just entered.
It wasn’t just shock.
It was understanding.
Recognition.
Something had happened.
