Page 50 of Damian
Damian’s hand found mine, grounding me even in front of the others. “It won’t be wasted. We move now.”
Oliver zipped his bag shut with a sound that felt final. “Two teams. Cyclone and I on tech. Gage and I’ll breach first. Damian, you take point inside.”
Ruby leaned forward, eyes wide. “You’re really going after them tonight?”
“Yes.” Damian’s voice was firm, but not unkind.
“And you’re staying here, with Morgan. “Do not go outside.”
The certainty in his tone left no room for argument. Still, Ruby looked at me, worry clouding her face. For once, I didn’t try to play it down. I squeezed her hand, hard. “We’ll be fine.”
But inside, fear uncoiled sharp and cold. Because I knew this wasn’t just another step. This was the step. The one that could either tear Luthor’s network open… or paint an even bigger target on all of us.
Damian bent close enough for only me to hear. “Lock the doors behind us. Don’t open for anyone but me. No matter what.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Come back to me.”
His lips brushed my forehead, quick but searing. “Always.”
And then he was gone, moving with the others into the night, leaving me with Ruby, the echo of his promise, and the knowledge that the storm was finally breaking.
67
Morgan
The silence was the hardest part.
Once the SUV’s engine faded down the road, the safehouse felt like it was holding its breath. Every tick of the clock seemed louder, every creak of the floor sharper. Ruby curled up in the armchair, her knees tucked under her chin, pretending to scroll on her phone. I could tell by the way her eyes kept flicking to the door that she wasn’t really reading anything.
“They’ll be okay,” I said softly.
Ruby’s voice was tight. “You don’t know that.”
I crossed the room and sat on the edge of her chair, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You’re right. I don’t. But I do know Damian doesn’t promise anything lightly. And he promised us he’d come back.”
Her lips pressed together, trembling despite her effort to look tough. “He cares about you.”
The words caught me off guard. “Ruby—”
“No, I mean… really cares,” she said, looking up at me with eyes too old for her age. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s like he’s already decided you’re his.”
Heat prickled the back of my neck, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was truth. A truth I hadn’t let myself fully believe until now. “I care about him too,” I admitted.
Ruby’s shoulders slumped in something like relief. “Good. Because for once… maybe you don’t have to do this all by yourself. I’m so sorry those men took me. I know how scared you must have been.”
The words hit me hard. I pulled her into a hug, holding her close until her sharp edges softened. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I love you. I was scared for you. If you ever want to talk to me, I’m always here for you.”
The house groaned with the shift of settling wood, and both our heads snapped up at the sound. My pulse thundered. Just the old house, I told myself. Just old timber breathing in the night. Still, I stood, double-checked the locks again, then closed the blackout curtains so not a sliver of light could escape.
“Paranoid much?” Ruby asked, trying for humor but not quite landing it.
“Prepared,” I corrected, keeping my voice steady.
She followed me back to the sofa, and we sat together, the silence stretching once again. Minutes felt like hours as I tried to focus on the small things—Ruby’s hand warm against mine, the faint hum of Cyclone’s abandoned equipment still running, and the memory of Damian’s lips pressing against my forehead before he left.
That last thought steadied me most of all.
Still, as the night deepened, I couldn’t shake the sensation that we weren’t as alone as we wanted to be.
