Page 103 of Shadow Of Sin

The battle is coming, and I honestly don’t know how it will end.

I scroll through my phone, heaving a deep sigh. The texts from Ronan go back weeks, ever since he found out that the ghost is Eva. He’s been circling this conversation since the warehouse hit, sending me short, cryptic messages between operational updates.

We need to discuss her role.

What’s the exit plan?

Figure out what you’re doing with her before I do.

Handle it or I will.

And my responses. I shake my head. Fuck.

I’ll take care of it.

She won’t be a problem.

Let’s get through Thursday.

On the phone just now, I told him she stays. But in these texts, I sound like a man who hasn’t decided yet.

I have decided. My mouth knows it. My texts just haven’t caught up.

I rake a hand through my hair, my shoulders slumping as I walk back into the room. Eva sits on the bed next to her packed bag. Her dark eyes narrow at me.

“Who was that?” she asks.

“Ronan. He had a few questions about the Thursday timeline, and he didn’t want to wait on them.”

Her brows furrow and I shift under her penetrating gaze.

“Your voice changed out there,” she says. “Through the door. I couldn’t hear what you said but you sounded...” She pauses. “Tight.”

“I’m tired. It’s been a long night.”

“That’s not what tight sounds like. Tight sounds like someone pushing back against something they don’t want to do.”

She’s too damn perceptive. She didn’t hear the words, but she heard everything underneath them.

“Ronan and I don’t always agree on strategy,” I say, rubbing the stress knot lodged at the base of my spine. “That’s nothing new.”

She lifts an eyebrow. I hold her gaze, knowing she’s debating about whether or not to push me, but thank fuck, she lets it go.

Not because she believes me, though. Because she trusts me enough to let the lie sit for now.

“Come to bed,” she says. “We have to leave early.”

I lie down next to her. She curls into my side, laying her head on my chest. Her hand rests on my stomach. Soon, her breathing slows.

I’m still wide fucking awake; my heart racing as I stare at the ceiling.

I can’t let her go. I won’t. And Ronan is going to have to deal with it.

But my brain still doesn’t settle because that’s how it works. It plans for every outcome. The good ones. The bad ones. The ones I’m fighting against. And right now, at two in the morning, with Eva asleep on my chest and Ronan’s voice ringing between my ears, my brain is doing the thing I wish I could stop it from doing.

It’s building the contingency.

Not because I want it. Because my brain doesn’t give me a choice. It sees unresolved problems—what happens if Ronan won’t budge and forces Eva out? What happens if keeping Eva puts the family at risk?—and it automatically builds a new plan.