Page 16 of Damian
Even with Damian’s men moving through the safehouse like shadows, checking locks, setting up motion sensors, speaking in clipped tones that sounded like safety, my chest stayed tight. It didn’t matter how many rifles leaned against the wall or how steady Damian’s voice was — Ruby was still out there. Sixteen years old, stubborn as ever, humming off-key when she did her homework. My kid sister.
And I wasn’t with her.
I sat at the edge of the couch, files scattered around me like a shield I couldn’t hold. My recorder sat warm in my hand, the red light blinking, waiting. I pressed the button because silence was worse.
“Ruby’s scared of the dark,” I whispered. “Always has been. She keeps the closet light on when she sleeps. She says it keeps the monsters out.” My throat closed. “What if they took the light from her, too?”
The words cracked, and I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
I wanted to believe Damian’s promise —We’ll find her.I wanted to believe the neat stacks of files meant something, that they were more than just paper between us and the abyss. But fear had a way of chewing through belief, stripping it to bone.
The floor creaked. Damian’s shadow filled the doorway, broad and steady. He didn’t say anything, just watched me. His gaze was like steel — unflinching, hard — but there was something underneath I couldn’t name.
“I can’t just sit here,” I blurted, my voice shaking. “She’s out there, Damian. Every second—"
“I know.” His tone was clipped, but not cruel. “But running blind will get her killed faster. Luthor counts on desperation. It makes people sloppy.”
I hugged the recorder to my chest, fingers trembling. “I feel like I’m failing her. Like I should’ve protected her better.”
“You walked into a warehouse full of armed men for her,” he said, stepping closer. “That’s not failure, love. That’s bloody loyalty.”
The words hit me harder than they should have. I blinked fast, swallowing the knot in my throat.
“I just… I need her to know I’m not giving up,” I whispered.
Damian’s jaw tightened, and for a second I thought he’d argue. Instead, he crouched so we were eye level, his voice steady as stone. “Then don’t. Use that worry. Channel it. But don’t let it break you. Ruby needs you sharp, not shattered.”
I nodded, even though my heart still ached. He didn’t smile, but his hand brushed the edge of the files, sliding them closer to me. A silent command: keep going. Keep fighting.
When he left the room, I pressed record again, my voice steadier this time. “Ruby, if you can hear me somehow… I’m coming. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll find you.”
The red light blinked, steady as a heartbeat.
And for the first time that night, I almost believed myself.
16
Damian
The farmhouse smelled of strong coffee and damp paper. Cyclone and River hunched over the map we’d laid across the table, their voices low, steady, but my mind kept circling back to the image of Morgan on the couch — small frame wrapped around that bloody recorder like it was armor.
She’d whispered Ruby’s name like a prayer. And God help me, I’d almost believed her words carried enough weight to reach across the darkness.
But belief didn’t win wars. Planning did.
“Hub 9’s a spider’s web,” Cyclone said, tapping the edge of the map with a pencil. “Multiple docks, layered security, but nothing that screams military. They’re running civilian-grade patterns, hoping to stay under the radar.”
River leaned back, arms crossed. “We tag Hemsley, follow him up the chain. He’s the link to Caldwell, to the shell companies. The trick is keeping Morgan out of the blast radius while we do it.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “She’s already in the blast radius. Luthor doesn’t let loose ends dangle.”
Silence stretched. They knew I was right.
Cyclone adjusted the map, laying a smaller blueprint over the top. “There’s a secondary access point on the north side of the hub. Maintenance entrance. Minimal camera coverage. That’s our way in if we want eyes on the inside.”
“In and out?” River asked.
“Five minutes,” Cyclone confirmed.
