Page 96 of Make Them Cry
His fists are clenched. Shoulders tense. Every part of him radiates fury and protection and something primal that makes my breath catch.
God, he’s sexy when he’s like this. Fierce. Loyal. Unapologetically mine.
I reach out, brushing my fingers against his hand. “We’ll stop them.”
He looks down at me, eyes dark and burning. “I swear to you, River. I’ll end this.”
And I believe him.
THIRTY-TWO
GAGE
The door clicks shut behind Mason and the rest of the team.
For a long moment, I just stand there. The apartment is quiet—River’s sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. I know that position. It’s what people do when they’re trying to shrink themselves, trying not to fall apart.
She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.
Because this whole case is twisting in on itself. Mason gave us breadcrumbs at best. His intel wasn’t worthless—but it wasn’t the smoking gun we were hoping for either. Cathedral is still out there. Regent is still hiding in the shadows. And River’s still the target of their twisted obsession.
I glance at her, and something inside me aches.
Her shoulders rise and fall on a deep breath. “That was a lot,” she finally says.
“Yeah.” I sink onto the couch beside her, close but not touching. “I was hoping he’d tell us something useful. Something real.”
“He’s scared.”
“He should be.” I pause, then add, “We all should be.”
She turns her face toward me, the soft lamplight catching the curve of her cheek. “I thought this would feel better, you know? Like… having someone crack. Having a lead.”
“You wanted it to be over.”
“I wanted to stop looking over my shoulder.”
“I know.”
She looks down at her lap. “And yet… here I am. Still flinching at every noise outside.”
I don’t think. I just move. I pull her gently into my arms, her body folding into mine like she belongs there. Her cheek presses to my chest, right over my heart.
“I hate this,” she whispers. “Feeling powerless. Like no matter how many leads we follow, Regent’s always two steps ahead.”
My hand slides up her back. “We’ll catch them. I swear to you, River. We’ll catch them and burn it all down.”
Her voice is barely audible. “But at what cost?”
I tilt her chin up to look at me. Her eyes are stormy and tired and so damn beautiful it hurts. “You’re not a cost,” I say, voice rough. “You’re the reason we keep going.”
Something shifts between us—no longer tension, but pure heat. A live wire strung between our mouths. And this time, when I kiss her, it’s not desperate. It’s reverent.
Slow.
Full of everything I can’t say.
She melts into me, her fingers tugging at my shirt, pulling me closer. I deepen the kiss, hand sliding into her hair as I guide her back against the cushions. Her body curves into mine like it’s meant to, like we’ve done this a thousand times before in another life.
