Page 74 of In the Dark of the Past

Atlas cursed. “If they run, we lose every chance of proving who covered what.”

“They won’t run,” I said suddenly.

Both men turned to me.

“They won’t run,” I repeated, the truth settling solid beneath my ribs. “Whoever is involved, they’ve spent years building a façade of righteousness. They’re addicted to the power, the image. They won’t abandon it. Not until they believe they can control the narrative.”

Finn stared at me for a long, tense moment.

Then something like reluctant pride flickered through his features.

“She’s right,” he said to Atlas. “Grant’s ego won’t let him flee. Kline’s too arrogant. Graham is just an ass-kisser. And Jordyn...she thinks she’s smarter than all of us.”

“So, what do we do?” Atlas asked.

Finn looked at me.

“Our tripwire,” I whispered.

“Mm-hmm,” he said. “It’s time to set it.”

Atlas straightened. “You want to trigger it tonight?”

“Tomorrow morning at the latest,” Finn said. “But first, River’s not staying here.”

“Obviously,” Atlas said.

My pulse stuttered. “Where am I staying?”

Finn didn’t hesitate. “With me.”

My breath caught.

Not because of the intimacy—though that was there, too, warm and frightening under everything else. And not because of the history. But because of the certainty in how he said it. The way it wasn’t a question.

Nine years ago, I would have argued. Nine years ago, I would have said I didn’t need protecting. Nine years ago, I was a different version of myself, one who confused independence with not needing anyone at all.

But the red eyes were still drying on my floorboards. My mother could have very well been insinuated on that message on the back wall. And Finn was standing between me and the dark like he’d always been standing there, in every version of my life, waiting for me to stop running toward it instead.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“You’re not walking into a dark house alone,” he said. “Not until we flush them out. Not until this ends.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn’t.

Not with the paint still drying inside my home. Not with the violation still sinking into my skin. Not with Finn looking at me like he’d tear the world apart bare-handed before letting something happen to me.

Atlas cleared his throat. “CSU’s on the way. I’ll stay with the scene.”

Finn nodded, then turned back to me. “We’ll stop off so you can grab anything personal from your car. You’re coming home with me.”

A hundred thoughts surged.

None of them were fear.

I nodded. “Okay.”

The night seemed to shift again—not tilting this time.