Page 252 of What We Burn

“Fourteen men came to assault two women they believed had been drugged and delivered to them,” Holden cuts in, his voice a blade slicing through the spiral. “That was the point.”

Milo stops.

His heart hammers through my spine, a trapped-bird rhythm.

“Fenrir will identify every device owner he can and recover any Kennel sessions still authenticated,” Holden continues. “If one of those devices carried SMAN69, we’ll have a direct link.”

“And if none of them did?” I ask.

His eyes meet mine. “Then we keep hunting. The work doesn’t change. Only the timeline does.”

“Timelines are manageable,” Micah says, reaching across the table to still Milo’s drumming fingers with his own. “It’s what we’ve always done. One thread at a time.”

Knox hasn’t moved. He’s watching me, reading the arithmetic happening behind my face, and I force myself through the count—in four, hold four, out four—while his gaze holds me steady like a hand on the back of my neck.

“Okay,” Milo says. He exhales against my shoulder, some of the wire coming out of his muscles. “But for the record, if Stephen’s still alive, I’m going to be extremely upset, and I reserve the right to make it everyone’s problem.”

“Noted,” Eli says dryly, refilling his coffee.

“It’ll be my problem first,” Knox rumbles.

The way he says it—flat, absolute—makes it sound less like reassurance and more like a eulogy for a man who doesn’t know he’s dead yet.

Milo relaxes another degree. His chin settles back onto my shoulder.

“Tyler can’t come back.”

Nobody argues with that.

But nobody says Stephen can’t.

“I’m guessing this means the surveillance remains?” I ask.

“It does,” Holden says.

“Are we adding new trackers?”

“No new trackers. But after last night, one of us stays close until we know whether we got the person targeting you. You go to work, live your life, and we stay alert.”

“And Odin?” I look toward Knox. “How pissed was he when you gave him the devices?”

“He didn’t say,” Knox answers. “He wants a full explanation next meeting.”

My stomach tightens. We broke Odin’s stand-down the moment Tyler died. Now Milo and Knox have turned that breach into a massacre and cost Fenrir his live access. This could damage more than my initiation. It could damage the Hangmen.

I lean closer to Milo.

“He’ll be pissed,” Micah says. “But thirteen local account holders are dead if we include Tyler. Plus the two men who came along hoping to join the party. Whatever it cost, fifteen predators can’t hurt anyone again. Worth it.”

“Worth it,” I repeat.

I stare into my coffee.

It’s like a game of Whack-a-Mole. Take out one rapist and a bunch of others pop up. The threat against me ends once we know Stephen is gone.

The threat against every woman and vulnerable person out there is never-ending.

“What happens when it’s over?”