PART 18:

She didn’t run. She didn’t hide. She faced problems head-on and crushed them with superior force and resources. But looking at Nate’s exhausted face, thinking about Stella checking exits and making lists of good things, remembering Detective Chen’s warning about these people not being amateurs, Claire realized that maybe her instincts were wrong.

Maybe survival wasn’t about being the strongest or the most aggressive. Maybe it was about being smart enough to know when to change tactics. Okay. She said quietly. I’ll disappear. But only if you help me. Help you how? Be my contact. My safe person. You’re the only one I trust right now, Nate. Everyone else could be compromised, could be working with Marcus, could be feeding him information.

She hated how vulnerable her voice sounded. I need someone I can call, someone who’ll answer. Claire, I have Stella. I can’t just drop everything to I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to answer your phone, to to be there if I need help, to to She stopped, struggling with words that had never come easily.

To care whether I make it through this. Nate looked at her for a long moment, and Claire saw the war happening behind his eyes. He had a daughter who needed him, a life that was already complicated, every reason to say no. Okay. He said finally. But you have to promise me something. What? That you’ll actually let me help.

No pride, no stubbornness, no I can handle this myself. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you that you’re in danger, you listen. His voice was hard now, almost angry. Because I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself. And I won’t watch another person I care about die because they were too proud to ask for help when they needed it.

The words another person hung in the air between them. His wife, Claire realized. He’d lost his wife, and somehow Claire had become someone he didn’t want to lose, too. I promise, she said, and meant it. Detective Chen emerged from the back room, snapping off latex gloves. We’re done here for tonight. Mr.

Rhodes, you can lock up what’s left. We’ll be back tomorrow to finish processing. What about my car? Claire asked. It stays here for now. It’s evidence. Chen looked between them, seeing something Claire wasn’t sure they were ready to name. Ms. Montgomery, one more thing. This investigation is going to take time. In my experience, people who try to kill you once usually try again.

Be careful who you trust. I am, Claire said, looking at Nate. Chen nodded and walked out, leaving them alone in the aftermath of chaos. Other officers followed, their radios crackling with dispatcher codes and routine violence. Within minutes, the shop was empty except for the two of them and a car that had become the center of everything.

I need to get back to Stella, Nate said. Mrs. Rodriguez next door is great, but Stella gets anxious if I’m gone too long. Of course, go. Where are you going? Claire thought about her penthouse with its electronic locks and security cameras that clearly weren’t enough. I don’t know. A hotel, maybe. Use cash. Don’t use your name.

Don’t tell anyone which one. Nate pulled out a pen and wrote something on a business card. This is my personal cell, not the shop number. My actual phone. It’s always on. Always within reach. You need anything, anytime, you call. Claire took the card, feeling the weight of the trust it represented. Thank you.

Don’t thank me yet. We haven’t caught them. Nate looked at his shop, his livelihood, now a crime scene, and sighed. But we will. I promise you that, Claire. We’ll figure out who’s doing this, and we’ll stop them. How can you be so sure? Because the alternative is unacceptable. He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And I stopped accepting unacceptable outcomes the day my daughter was born. He walked her to her car, not the Valkyrie, but the loaner Mercedes she’d finally accepted from insurance, and waited while she got in and started the engine. Through the window, she watched him check the street in both directions, scanning for threats with the same systematic attention he gave to engines.

Nate, she called before he could walk away. Yeah? Add something to your daughter’s list for me. What? People who keep their promises. Tell her that’s a good thing. A really good thing. Nate smiled, tired but genuine. I will. Now go. Find somewhere safe. And Claire? Don’t forget to actually sleep. You’re no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion.

Claire drove away from Davie’s Automotive at 3:47 in the morning, watching Nate in her rearview mirror until she turned the corner and he disappeared. Then she drove aimlessly through Seattle’s empty streets, thinking about good things and bad people, and the strange mechanic who’d somehow become the anchor keeping her from drifting away completely.

She ended up at a small hotel near the university, the kind of place that catered to visiting professors and graduate students, where people paid in cash and minded their own business. The night clerk barely looked at her when she registered under a fake name. Just took her money and handed over a key card. The room was small and anonymous.

Beige walls, generic art, furniture that had seen better decades. Nothing like her penthouse with its custom everything and its view that cost more per month than most people’s annual salary. But it was safe. Or safe enough. Claire lay on the bed fully clothed, too wired to sleep, and pulled out her phone.

She opened her notes app and looked at her list of good things. Two items. Just two. She added a third. People who answer their phone at 2:00 a.m. Then she stared at the ceiling and thought about Marcus Webb and David Chang and 35 other people who might want her dead. She thought about patterns and opportunities and the way puzzle pieces clicked together when you finally saw the right configuration.

And slowly, despite her best efforts to stay vigilant, exhaustion pulled her under. She dreamed of car engines and little girls with broken hearts and hands braiding hair while humming forgotten songs. She dreamed of spark plugs and security systems and a man who fixed broken things. She dreamed of being safe. Across the city, Nate let himself into his small rental house and found Mrs.

👉 [Tap here for the Next Part ] 👈