Page 12 of Make Them Pay

We go back to work side by side. Our elbows brush again. This time neither of us pulls away quite so fast. The almost-touches feel different now.

A few hours later we catch the message. It gives us our first real clue. A partial code and a location hint about forty miles north.

“Good work,” Render says, looking at me with real pride in his eyes.

“I know,” I reply, managing a small smile.

He almost smiles back. The corner of his mouth lifts, then settles. That almost is starting to feel like its own language between us.

Night falls. We eat our simple dinner and he goes to take the floor again, but I stop him. I shift my weight from foot to foot.

“You’ll never get any sleep on that hard floor,” I tell him. “We’re adults, and we can share a bed.” I don’t want him knowing the truth. That I feel safer with him in the bed with me. A solid body, breathing beside me.

“Okay,” is all he says. He moves toward the bed, and pulls the covers back.

I climb in first and he slides in after me. We both lie flat on our backs, staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Always,” he whispers back into the night, and I already feel safer.

I close my eyes. The container doesn’t come back. Instead I hear Render’s steady breath beside me.

5

Render

I wake up with Enley in my arms.

Sometime during the night we must’ve migrated toward each other on the narrow bed. My arm’s wrapped around her waist, her back pressed against my chest, her pink hair spilling across the pillow near my face. She’s warm and soft and breathing slow and steady. For a few long seconds I just lie there, letting myself feel it. The way she fits against me. The trust of her body relaxing into mine while she sleeps.

It’s the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. I needed it more than I realized. Days of running on empty, worrying about her, worrying about Poe, worrying about everything, finally caught up with me. And somehow having her here made it possible to actually rest.

I need to get up before she wakes. Before she realizes my arm is around her and this comfortable, dangerous closeness becomes something we have to talk about. I start to slide my arm away as carefully as I can, but she makes a small sound in her sleep and shifts closer. My chest tightens. I’ve wanted her for years. That’s the truth I’ve carried since the first time she stole my fries at that diner and grinned at me like she knew exactly what she was doing to my heart. Poe’s sister. Off limits. The line I’ve never even thought about crossing.

Until last night, when exhaustion pulled us both into the bed instead of me taking the floor again.

I finally manage to slip my arm free and ease out from under the covers. The morning air feels cold against my skin. I pull on a shirt and move to the table, starting the day before she opens her eyes.

The facility code Enley pulled from that hidden message yesterday has given us something solid to chase. I’ve been cross-referencing it against maps and records since I sat down, looking for anything that stands out in the industrial area north of the city. Most places look normal. Regular warehouses and factories. But one building feels wrong. It’s registered to some shell company, uses way more power than it should, and has a new fence around it that doesn’t match the official paperwork.

That’s probably where they’re holding my friends.

Enley stirs behind me. She sits up in a smooth motion, instantly alert, scanning the room. Her hair is messy from sleep and her eyes are still soft in that half-awake way that makes my stomach do things it shouldn’t.

“Morning,” she says, voice a little husky.

“Morning. Knight sent coordinates. One of the sites looks promising.”

She’s out of bed and at the table in seconds, pulling her chair close. She leans in to study the images on the screen, tucking her hair behind her ear. The fading bruise on her jaw catches the light, and a familiar protective surge rises in my chest. I’ve always been protective of her, even from across rooms. Now that I’ve helped her through a panic attack and woken up with her in my arms, that feeling’s grown into something deeper. Stronger. Harder to ignore.

We fall into work easily. She starts checking the hidden communication channel we’ve been watching. I handle the maps and possible ways in. Our elbows brush as we share the small table. Every touch feels electric now. I notice the way her shoulder presses against mine when she leans closer. The focused set of her mouth. The way her eyes light up when she spots something useful.

She’s always been beautiful to me. But seeing her mind work like this, sharp and quick, makes the attraction harder to push down. I’ve wanted her for years. That’s why I stayed away. Why I kept my distance. Being this close every day is testing every bit of control I’ve got.

“The fence is new,” she says, pointing. “And look at how much power that building uses. Something’s going on underground. That’s probably where they’re keeping everyone.”

She’s right. Her ability to see the full picture keeps impressing me. We keep working, trading ideas, building on each other’s thoughts. The cabin fills with the rhythm of two people focused on the same goal. Our knees touch under the table. Neither of us moves away.