Page 90 of Without a Trace
Didn’t move either.
Her grip tightened around the stem of her glass, fingers pale with pressure. A tremor in her breathing.
“We’re not the heroes in this story, Scar,” I said, my voice low, rough. “But we’re yours. Every one of us.”
That hits.
Her gaze drops for just a second. Enough for me to see the crack behind the wildfire.
But then it’s gone.
She tossed back what’s left in her glass, setting it down with precision, and walked away without another word.
Back to her seat.
Back to Trace.
Back to the part of this story that didn’t make sense anymore.
I didn't follow.
Just stood there, glass in hand, pulse pounding like it’s a countdown.
Because the truth settled heavy in my chest—
We lost her the minute we gave her reasons to question who she was to us.
And I’m not sure we’re ever getting her back.
Rhett
The tension in the cabin could break bone.
Scarlett sat curled beside Trace, champagne in hand, skin glowing in the way that always looked half divine, half dangerous. Trace looked like he was seconds from combusting. Arms tight. Mouth tighter. Like he hadn’t unclenched his jaw in thirty-six hours.
So naturally, I slid into the seat across from them with the world’s most obnoxious grin and stretched my arms behind my head. “What’s up, lovebirds?”
Scarlett raised a brow. “You bored already?”
“Nah,” I said, kicking my feet up. “Just figured I’d make the emotional triangle a square.”
Trace set his drink down, gaze pinned to me like he was deciding where to aim. “Don’t.”
Which only made me grin harder. “Too late.”
Scarlett fought a smile behind the rim of her glass. “You’re a menace.”
“I’m a gift,” I corrected. “And you’re all sitting on a jet like you’re headed to your own funeral. Loosen up.”
She gave a low laugh—real and sharp-edged—and tilted her glass toward me. “Where exactly are we going again?”
Trace’s gaze flicked to me, fast and warning.
I held her eyes. Shrugged, easy. “Somewhere remote. Sun, sand, secrets. Sounds dreamy, right?”
She narrowed her eyes, catching something in my tone.
But I just smiled wider and leaned back in my seat, playing dumb with decades of practice.
