Page 72 of Wraith

Maybe that’s just being practical.

Or maybe I’m already slipping back into old patterns.

“What does ‘your way’ mean?”

“Neutral location. Public place. Somewhere we can see who’s coming and going. Somewhere we have exits if things go wrong.” His voice is pure strategy now, no emotion, just logistics. “And we don’t tell him where we’re staying. We don’t give him any information that could get back to the Devils that would help them track us.”

“Do you think Evan would tell them?”

“I think your brother loves you and would do anything to protect you. Including things you might not want him to do.” Wraith steps closer, his hand coming up as if he wants to touch me but stopping just short. “I’m not saying he’d betray you on purpose. But the Devils are going to have questions. They’re going to want to know where you’ve been, what happened, who you’re with. And if Evan knows those answers, he might have to choose between protecting you and lying to his club.”

The logic is sound. And I hate that I can see his point even while I resent the way he’s framing it as a demand instead of a suggestion.

“Fine. We’ll meet him somewhere public. Somewhere neutral. And we won’t tell him where we’re staying.”

Wraith’s shoulders drop slightly. “Thank you.”

“But I’m calling him. Not you. And I’m deciding when and where we meet. You can give input, but I make the final call.”

He hesitates. I can see him wanting to argue, wanting to take back control of this situation before it gets away from him. Wanting to be the old version of him that dominates. But he also knows that if he pushes too hard right now, I’ll dig in. And then we’ll be fighting instead of planning.

New June has teeth. He knows that.

“Okay. Deal?”

I should feel good about this. I should feel like I won something, like I successfully negotiated with him and got what I wanted while maintaining my boundaries.

Instead, I just feel tired.

Tired and worried and uncertain about whether I’m being smart or stupid, trusting or naïve. Am I New June? Or just Old June in a different outfit?

“Deal.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Wraith

The Sunshine Diner sits on the edge of Evansburg like a relic from a time when chrome and Formica meant something. I let June choose it — neutral territory, public enough to be safe, far enough from Ironwood Falls that we’re not stepping on Devil territory. I park the truck three spaces from the entrance where I can see both the front door and the side exit, and June doesn’t comment on the tactical positioning because she knows why I do it.

She hasn’t said anything more about the Cinder lie. Hasn’t pushed. Hasn’t demanded to see my phone. But I can feel the suspicion radiating off her like heat, and that she’s choosing not to confront me about it makes it worse somehow.

“You ready?” I say.

“Yes.” She opens her door. “I can’t wait to see my brother. This’ll be good. Thank you, Wraith.”

Those words catch me off guard, and surprised, I mutter, “You’re welcome.”

We cross the parking lot and I catch sight of two motorcycles pulling in from the opposite direction. One is a Harley I recognize as Gator’s. The other is smaller, sleeker, and has something strapped to the back that looks like...

“Is that a yoga mat?” June says.

It is. A yoga mat. Rolled up and secured to the back of a motorcycle with bungee cords.

The bikes park and two men climb off. Gator pulls his helmet off first, and his face is tight with worry when he sees June. He crosses to her immediately, wraps her in a hug that lifts her off her feet.

“Jesus, Junebug. When the Devils found your apartment...” His voice cracks. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m okay,” she says against his shoulder. “I’m okay, Evan.”