Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
But we weren’t folding. Not me, not Judd, not any of us. We were in too deep now.
When we finally pulled the last thread on this web, Titian included, I was going to make sure nothing was left standing—not for any of them.
Chapter 23
Sayla
The bed shifted beneath me, jolting me from a deep, dreamless sleep as Roque slid out of it, his weight disappearing and the mattress rocking gently in his wake. His voice was low, a whisper into his phone, urgent but controlled.
Dog was curled up like a warm stone at the foot of the bed, pinning my legs in place. I blinked into the dark, my heart thudding as my mind caught up. Slowly, carefully, I eased my feet out from under him, sitting up and pushing the hair from my face as I listened.
Roque’s voice trailed off down the hall, and then nothing—just silence.
It felt like I waited for hours, though it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. When he finally returned, the dim glow from the bathroom light silhouetted his broad frame as he moved around the room, pulling on clothes in quick, practiced motions.
“You’re going out?” I asked, my voice still hoarse with sleep.
He nodded, zipping up his jacket. “Something’s happened. I’ve got to go in.”
I was already swinging my legs over the edge of the bed when he turned back to me.
“Can you stay with the kids?” The way he said it wasn’t a question because he already knew the answer.
“Of course.”
Roque stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Keep the doors locked and the alarm on. Don’t open up for anyone but me or one of ours, okay?”
There was something in his eyes—tense, sharp, like whatever he’d just heard on the phone had cut through the calm we’d been holding onto.
“Is it bad?”
He hesitated. “I’m not sure yet, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
I nodded, already rising to my feet and walking to the front door with him. “Just be careful.”
He gave me a look—one of those deep, steady ones that made it feel like time paused for a second. “I will.”
Then he leaned in, kissed my forehead, and was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, and I locked it, double-checked it, then reset the alarm as he’d asked.
Whatever was out there tonight, it wasn’t done with us yet. But I wasn’t about to let anything get through that door without a fight.
Whatever had been building finally hit us an hour later.
Kaida had woken up fussing, tugging at my hand until I carried her to the couch. She curled up beside me under a blanket, her head against my side, and asked to watch her favorite movie—something animated and soft with talking animals and way too many musical numbers. Not five minutes in, she was out cold again, breathing slow and steady. But I was wide awake now, nerves humming beneath my skin.
That’s when Kairo came sprinting into the room, eyes wide and full of fear, his little fists clutching the sleeves of his pajama top.
“Monster,” he whispered breathlessly, pointing toward the hallway that led to the back of the house.
Every instinct in me kicked into gear, but I did what any adult does when a child says something terrifying in the middle of the night—I pulled him into my lap and wrapped my arms around him.
“There’s no such thing as monsters, baby,” I whispered, running my fingers through his curls. “You’re safe. It was probably just a shadow or a dream, nothing’s going to hurt you.”
His heartbeat thudded against mine, fast and fluttering, and I kept my voice calm even though my own pulse was picking up speed.
That’s when I saw a shadow passing by the window through the blinds. I froze, breath catching in my throat. It was quick—there and gone—but it was real. It was not a dream or my imagination, someone was out there.
I didn’t move or speak, I just held Kairo a little tighter and slowly shifted so he couldn’t see the window anymore. My eyes stayed locked on it, my ears straining for any sound.
And then it came. A noise—faint, metallic, deliberate—from the other side of the house, like someone was testing a door handle.
My phone lit up on the coffee table.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
The motion detection alerts started rolling in.
Backyard – movement detected.
Side gate – movement detected.
Driveway – movement detected.
My fingers reached for the phone as silently as I could, one arm still wrapped around Kairo. The screen glowed in my palm, showing blurred night-vision stills of dark figures moving just beyond the perimeter lights.
They were here, whoever they were, and I was alone in the house with two kids. My throat went dry at the realization that I was solely responsible for keeping them safe until help arrived. I didn't know what they wanted, but I knew damn well I wasn’t letting them take it.