Page 108 of Sage Haven
“You believe him?” Castor asked eventually, his voice low.
I shook my head. “I believe he’s obsessed. And desperate.” I paused. “Which makes him dangerous.”
Castor exhaled through his nose, nodding. “One week, huh?”
“One week,” I repeated.
One week to keep Sage safe. One week to keep her in the dark. One week to figure out how to untangle the web she was caught in without getting us both killed.
It sounded simple.
But I knew it wasn’t.
I walked with Castor back toward the main room, both of us falling into step without thinking. The house was quiet tonight, but it was the kind of quiet that didn’t last. We both knew it.
Later, in my office, we sat across from each other. Castor poured some more of the whiskey while I sifted through files I’d already read a dozen times. My mind wasn’t on them.
It was on her.
She was in my house. Sleeping under my roof.
And I had no idea how I was supposed to keep my hands off her.
Castor tapped the edge of his glass against mine. “You seem tense,” he said, though there was a sharpness under his words. A knowing. “More than usual.”
I ran a hand over my face, scrubbing at the stubble there like I could wipe away the exhaustion clawing at me. “I’ve spent the last two days trying to pull answers out of someone who refuses to talk.”
He laughed under his breath. “Sounds familiar.”
I shot him a look. “You’re not helping.”
He raised both hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying... you’ve always had a thing for impossible women.”
“She’s not impossible,” I muttered, draining half my glass. “She’s stubborn.”
He smirked. “Isn’t that what I said?”
I didn’t answer. My gaze drifted to the window, to the dark stretch of trees beyond it. Somewhere out there, Klay was planning his next move. Somewhere out there, the world was spinning toward disaster, and I was sitting here, drinking whiskey, wondering how the hell I ended up here.
“You’ll figure it out,” Castor said quietly, as if reading my mind.
“I always do,” I replied, but the words felt hollow tonight.
He left me alone a while later, taking the bottle with him because he knew if he didn’t, I wouldn’t stop. I’d sit here until dawn, drinking and thinking myself in circles.
I needed something else.
I stood, crossing to the turntable in the corner. My fingers hovered over the records until they settled on the one I needed.
I let the music settle into my bones, closing my eyes as I leaned back against the desk. The lyrics hit too close. I’d built my life on control. On precision. On keeping everyone at arm’s length.
And then there was Sage.
I didn’t know if she was my rescue or my destruction.
Maybe both.
I checked on her again that night. She was asleep, but not peacefully. Her body twisted beneath the sheets, her face pale and damp with sweat. She was fighting something in her dreams. Something I couldn’t touch.
