Page 61 of Without a Trace
Zeke raised a brow. “Still the bodyguard, huh?”
“I’m not asking again.”
I didn’t move. Just stood near the window, eyes fixed on the floorboards, trying to ignore the knot in my throat that had been there since I looked at her. Since Ilefther. Since I walked out of that shower like I always fucking do.
“She doesn’t know anything yet, does she?” Zeke asked.
“No,” I said.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because she’s not ready.” Because I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to watch her face break when she found out we’d been playing God with her life.
Zeke scoffed. “It’s not about ready. It’s about time. The others are circling, Trace. People are asking questions. She's not just some girl anymore.”
“She’snota pawn,” Alden snapped.
“No,” I agreed, voice low. “She’s everything.”
Zeke tilted his head. “You’re getting emotional.”
“She’s not part of this,” Kane said, finally. His voice was quieter, but there was weight in it. Finality. “We brought her out here to keep her safe.”
“She’s the reason we’re in danger,” Zeke replied.
“No,” Alden said. “She’s the reason we haven’t fucking lost control yet.”
Zeke looked between us—me, Alden, Kane, Rhett. Measuring.
Rhett hadn’t said a word, but his fists were clenched at his sides, going still. His silence wasn’t apathy. It was fury, barely held in check. The kind of fury that came from betrayal waiting to surface.
“You’re all in love with her,” Zeke muttered. “Jesus Christ.”
Nobody corrected him.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “She stays here. She doesn’t find out. Not yet.”
Zeke stared at me. “And when she does?”
My throat tightened.
“When she does… it better be fromus.”
Zeke pushed off the wall. “Then you better figure out how to tell her without her hating all of you.”
He walked toward the door, pausing just before opening it.
“She’s not safe, Trace. Not from the others. Not from the ones watching. You think you’re protecting her by hiding the truth?
My hand curled into a fist before I even realized it. Nails digging into my palm. A flicker of heat behind my eyes. I couldn’t let him see it—that he was right. That the truth was already fraying everything I was trying to hold together.
“Wait until she finds out how long you’ve all been lying.”
And then he was gone. The mark on my arm pulsed again—quiet, steady, like it already knew what came next.
I didn’t look at the others. I couldn’t.
Because every word he said was right.
