The next morning, Jace was gone before I woke up.
But his hoodie was still draped across my chest, his scent clinging to my skin like a promise. My body still ached from the night before from the slow, deep way he made love to me on the couch, from the words we whispered into each other's mouths like prayer.
I love you.
The words had echoed in my head all night. But as morning sun spilled into the living room, it wasn't warmth I felt.
It was fear.
Because someone still knew.
And they were still watching.
When I checked my phone, there were no new texts. No new threats.
Just silence.
The kind that screams in your bones.
Downstairs, I found a note on the counter in Jace's sharp, messy handwriting.
"Be ready by 2. Don't ask questions. Just trust me."
I stared at the words.
Trust him.
I did.
Even if the world didn't want me to.
2:03 p.m.
He picked me up in his car — windows tinted, hoodie up, jaw clenched. No smile. No joke. Just a quiet "Hey," as he opened the passenger door and waited for me to slide in.
"Where are we going?" I asked as he pulled away from the house.
"You'll see."
I studied him the muscle jumping in his jaw, the tight grip on the steering wheel, the wild gleam in his eyes that only showed when he was on the edge of something dangerous.
"Jace…"
"They sent another message," he said finally.
My stomach dropped. "When?"
"This morning. Just a location. No words. Just a pin."
I stared at him. "You're not seriously"
"I am."
"You don't know who it is."
"I know exactly who it is."
He turned to me then, and something in his eyes made my breath catch.
He'd figured it out.
We drove twenty minutes in silence until we pulled into the back of a small, empty parking lot behind an old bookstore.
Jace didn't move at first. Just sat there, engine running, breathing like he was gearing up for a fight.
Then he killed the engine. "Stay here."
"No way."
"Please." His voice cracked. "If this goes bad, I need you safe."
"Jace"
"I'm begging you."
So I stayed.
But I cracked the window. Just in case.
I watched him walk to the alley behind the shop, shoulders tense, hands in his hoodie pocket.
A moment later, someone stepped out of the shadows.
Avery.
Of course.
I should've guessed.
She looked casual ponytail, tight jeans, crop top but her arms were crossed like she was ready for war.
I couldn't hear them, but I could see.
The moment he said her name.
The way her jaw clenched.
The instant her expression shifted from smug to guilty.
Then she pulled something from her back pocket and shoved it at him.
A flash of a phone. Then a printed photo.
My stomach turned.
Jace snatched it out of her hand. Read something. Yelled.
She flinched.
Good.
He stepped closer. Said something through gritted teeth.
And then she slapped him.
I shot out of the car.
I didn't care if he told me to stay.
By the time I reached them, Avery's cheeks were red, her arms shaking, and Jace looked like he was trying very hard not to punch a wall.
"She sent the photo to herself from your phone while you were in the shower," he told me, jaw tight. "Then deleted the message and put your phone back."
Avery scoffed. "Oh, come on. Don't act like it's some crime. You're siblings."
"Step," I snapped.
"That doesn't make it better."
"You stalked us."
"You lied to me," she spat at Jace. "You told me you di
dn't do commitment and then you go and fall for her?"
She turned on me.
"You think he loves you? He's obsessed with the idea of it.