Page 37 of A Witchy Spell Ride
Reaper snapped his attention toward him. “What sedan?”
“Silver. Tinted. Passed the shop a few times last week. Again yesterday. Same car. Selene came back from a walk; it drove past minutes later. Too clean. Plates are dummy tags.”
Reaper was already reaching for his phone.
“No,” I said, stepping forward.
He froze. “What do you mean,no?”
“I don’t want the whole damn club rolling up and burning the Quarter down.”
“That’s exactly what needs to happen!”
“I want to know who it is, Reap. I want the truth, not just blood.”
He stared at me like he didn’t recognize me.
Like the sister he thought he knew had been replaced with someone reckless and quiet.
But it wasn’t recklessness.
It was survival.
I didn’t want to be protected in a cage.
I wanted answers.
And I wanted them now.
“I’m not saying don’t help me,” I said, softer. “I’m saying… don’t take this out of my hands.”
Ghost stepped forward, closer to my side.
“She’s right,” he said. “We need to knowwho. Andwhy. If we jump too soon, we lose that.”
Reaper looked between us, eyes narrowing. “You already knew.”
Ghost held his stare. “I had suspicions.”
“And you didn’t fucking tell me either.”
That landed like a hammer.
But Ghost didn’t flinch.
And neither did I.
Because I was done pretending.
Done hiding.
Done being scared in silence.
Reaper swore under his breath and stalked toward the front of the shop, phone already at his ear, barking low orders into the line.
Cross moved closer, notebook tucked under his arm. “I’ll pull the street cam feeds. See if I can track the sedan’s plates over time.”
Bones nodded. “Want me on watch outside?”
