Page 50 of Make Them Hurt

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I let my gaze drift casually over the patio, over the fence line, over the street beyond. Then I see it. There’s a white van parkedacross the lot at the edge of the street. Not in a spot that makes sense. Not angled like someone’s getting out for a drink.

Just… sitting.

Engine maybe off. Maybe on. The windows are tinted. My blood cools. It could be nothing. Could be a delivery van. Could be someone waiting to pick up a friend.

Could be— I don’t do “could be” when Salem is with me.

Salem tosses another bag and laughs when it bounces wrong. “Okay, I blame gravity.”

Brock grins. “Gravity hates you.”

Shepherd glances at me. “You good?”

My eyes flick back to the van. “Yeah,” I say automatically. But my body is already shifting into protect mode. My hand slides to Salem’s lower back like it belongs there.

She notices instantly. Her smile falters. “Ozzy?”

I lean in, voice low, calm. “We’re leaving.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

She swallows. Then she nods, because she does trust me now, and that trust is a weight and a gift and I carry it carefully.

I straighten and force a smile toward brothers and their wives. “Hey—this was fun. Sorry, but we’ve gotta head out.”

Brock blinks. “Already? We were about to destroy you completely.”

Salem manages a tight smile. “You already did.”

Shepherd studies my face for half a second, something sharpening in his gaze—like he recognizes the shift. “You need anything?” he asks, quietly.

I give him a small nod of respect. “We’re good.”

Brock claps me on the shoulder like we’re old buddies. “Come back. I like you two.”

Salem’s voice is soft. “Thanks for being so nice.”

Brock grins. “We’re Atwoods. We’re always nice.” He tugs his wife closer.

Shepherd snorts. “That’s a lie.”

We slip away from the patio, Salem close to my side. I keep my stride normal. I keep my head level. We step onto the sidewalk.

Salem’s fingers curl around my fingers. “Ozzy, what’s happening?”

I glance down at her, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I think we might’ve been made.”

Her breath catches. “Made? Like… found?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Maybe not. But we’re not waiting to confirm.”

Her eyes flick behind us, panic starting to rise.

I squeeze her hand once. “Don’t look.”

She swallows hard and faces forward, trying to breathe.