He takes a seat in the closest chair and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s about Eve.”
I nod since there’s no point in denying it. “I want to… I don’t fucking know. Live life to the fullest and all that shit that comes with it.”
Explaining what’s in my head is a hell of a lot harder than thinking it, but after what feels like hours, I think I’ve finally managed to make Nick understand that this isn’t a tantrum. It’s something I need.
“I thought about it before,” I explain. “But there was Ruby to consider. And then I got blinded by revenge.”
Nick nods.
“Something fucking changed when Dad had me killed. I can’t explain it better than that. But I don’t want this life anymore.”
I stop talking, waiting for the judgment of my older brother, but it never comes.
“Carolina once asked me if I’d walk away from it all if she asked me to,” he confesses as he stands and shoves his hands into the pockets on his suit pants.
“And—”
“And I would leave it behind in a heartbeat,” he says, tone stern. “So if your happiness is elsewhere, go fucking get it, brother.”
I let out a strained breath. “Wait, really? You’ll let me?”
He snorts. “You think I want your sourpuss ass around all the time? Fuck off, Jack.”
Tilting my head to the side, I watch him. Like,reallywatch him. I see the cost setting me free is taking on him. Not ina bad way. But in the way that we were meant to always stick together, but now I have things of my own I want—and he refuses to stand in my way.
“Thank you.” Instead of waiting for him to brush it off, or for me to make a stupid joke, I stand and pull him in for a hug. “I mean it.”
At first the hug feels stiff, unfamiliar. Then, after a beat, it settles—solid, grounding, years of bruises and silence folding into the press of his hand on my back and mine on his. For once, there’s no dominance to prove, no legacy choking the air between us. Just blood. Just family.
When we pull apart, Nick exhales sharply, almost like he had been holding it in. He scrubs a hand over his face, then fixes me with the kind of look he usually saves for strategy. “Then the Tunnel of Screams. That’s where we start.”
The name sits heavy on my tongue when I repeat it. “I guess so.” Shelby would thrive in a place where terror is currency and spectacle is cover.
But even as I speak, something unsettles low in my gut. Not doubt exactly—more like the echo of it. A faint coil tightening where conviction should sit steady.
The more I let the words hang between us, the more I feel the thread tug tight in my chest. A gut-deep coil, subtle at first, then insistent. My certainty begins to blur at the edges, like blood thinning in water.
Nick notices. He always does. “You believe it, don’t you?”
I nod slowly. “I’m not sure.” A pause. My jaw works, grinding the words. “There’s something off about it. She’s too smart to let herself be found because some coward croaked out her hiding place.”
“True,” Nick agrees.
The Sanctuary is the perfect setting if you want to rattle your opponent. The fog, shadows, sounds, and people milling about makes it easy to use for whatever you want. But…
“It’s uncontrollable,” I say, giving voice to the thought the second it hits me. “There are too many factors. She wouldn’t know who’s hiding behind masks, robes, or corners.”
Catching on, Nick adds, “We could have our people stashed there and she wouldn’t even know it.”
Now, I’m even surer she’s not at the Tunnel.“This is personal.” I repeat that phrase to myself over and over. “The Sanctuary is personal to Carolina, but it’s not…”
“What?” Nick asks, stepping closer.
“It’s personal,” I repeat. “There’s only one place it could be.”
Nick doesn’t move. His eyes narrow, arms folding across his chest, his silence heavier than accusation.
Then he runs a hand down his face, tone like gravel. “If you’re sure you know where it is, we should get it staked out. I’ll get men at every entrance. Five inside, five out. We can get the three in, and—”