Page 116 of Torment Me Knot
He lowers the phone slowly, his gaze moving over all of us. I've seen him angry. Controlled. Exhausted. Afraid.
This is none of those.
This is worse.
“Kev.” My voice barely makes it out. “What happened?”
“A finger was delivered to the OHC.”
Each word lands separately, like he has to force them out one at a time.
“Adrian confirmed the print.”
My stomach drops out from under me. Aubrey's grip crushes my hand and I hold on just as hard.
Kev swallows once.
“It was Sera’s.”
His voice breaks on the last word.
“Someone cut off her finger and delivered it to the OHC.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sera
Do the work, mija. Do the work.
My mother's voice has been in my head since I hit the tree line. Quiet. Specific. The way she always sounded when she meant every word.
I lie prone in the leaf litter, binoculars pressed to my eyes, keeping my profile as close to the ground as possible.
Ninety minutes in this position. Wet leaves beneath me. Diesel on the wind. Floodlights bleeding yellow through the trees.
My left hip went numb twenty minutes ago. My fingers have gone stiff around the binoculars. The seam of the vest cuts into my ribs where the Kevlar bunches.
My breath keeps fogging the lenses and I keep pulling back to wipe them clean before I give myself away.
My neck aches. None of it is what's actually bothering me.
What's bothering me is Aubrey's hand in mine on the couch, his thumb tracing my knuckles, his damaged fingers still reaching even when they were shaking, and I'd eased my fingers out of his grip, stood up and walked to the door.
Ezra had saidyou are wanted here, Sera. Not for what you do. Just you.
I'd saidI'm sorry I can't be the alpha you deserveand I'd meant it as kindness and I'm not sure it was.
Espie’s scent rises from the cold ground like a ghost at my back. She’s nowhere near me. I know that. Doesn’t matter.
I'm doing the right thing by them.
The sentence doesn't feel as true as it did yesterday. I say it again anyway.
I'm doing the right thing by them.
Twice is a rhythm. I don't let myself do three.
My own scent is rising off my collar. A sour note bleeding through the baseline of basil and blood orange and cedar.
