Krystal’s POV
New York City was different, felt different or perhaps we had changed. The sound of traffic, the very highs of the buildings, the faces, which did not bother to even glance at you as before--all of this was as we had left it, but something down in myself had changed. I was no longer that scared woman who ran away. I had stopped only being in a survival mode. I was there to battle.
Colt held my hand as I stepped out of the car. He had decided on a small place in the West Village, secluded yet near where we had to go. Not the mansion. Not the old homes. This was not a matter of display. It was a matter of keeping watch.
Very little was spoken in unpacking. He was doing deliberate work, locking things, installing cameras, drawing his laptop. I drew back the curtains and admit
