Page 64 of Break Me

“Well, congratulations,” I mutter. “It’s not working.”

The car rolls on, farther from town, farther from everything familiar. The light thins as we go, the sky deepening from blue to bruised gray, trees closing in until Ashbourne feels like a place I imagined instead of lived in.

Mouse slows the car as the road narrows, and pavement gives way to gravel.

Then I hear it. The sound reaches us even with the windows up. It’s steady, constant. Water moving over stone.

“How far out are we?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

“Far enough,” Mouse says.

I swallow hard. “He thinks this will protect me.”

Mouse nods once. “Yeah.”

“And do you?”

Mouse doesn’t answer.

I lean my head back against the seat, eyes closing as fear and fury coil together.

Because whatever Wolf is doing right now, he didn’t want me anywhere near it. That means whatever he’s walking into must be worse than I can imagine.

Samuel

Knox’s house is lit like nothing’s wrong.

Porch light on. The living room glow spills through the front windows. It’s the quiet kind of normal that gets men killed.

I kill the engine a block away and step out into the dark, the weight of my gun solid against my ribs. Not fear. Readiness.

I scan the street.

There’s nothing obvious. No bikes. No headlights. No engines idling where they shouldn’t be.

Which means Ridgeback is already in position.

Moving fast, I stay low, cutting through shadows and hedges, every sense stretched thin. I’m looking for Bishop. For Diesel. Any sign Mouse got to them in time.

Nothing.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

I round the side of the house and freeze. Two men stand near the back fence, silhouettes half-hidden by trees. Leather cuts I recognize. Patches low on their backs—Ridgeback. One of them lifts a phone, his screen lighting his face just enough for me to see the grin.

They’re not rushing. They think they have time.

My heart hammers as I edge closer. A flash of movement through the back window catches my attention.

Knox.

He steps into the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear, pacing. Annoyed. Distracted.

Unaware.

The second Ridgeback guy shifts. His hand drops toward his waistband. I don’t think. Don’t hesitate.

I move.