Rebekkah's POV.
The silence of the safe house was heavier than the noise of the city. Without the roar of traffic or the hum of the office, the only sound left was the ragged rhythm of my own breathing. I stood in the center of the room, my bare feet pressing against the cold stone floor. I’d kicked off my heels an hour ago, leaving them near the door like relics of a woman I didn't want to be anymore.
Derek was across the room, clearing a space. He moved a heavy wooden table with a single, grunt-free shove. He didn't look like a bodyguard anymore. He looked like the house itself...raw, unyielding, and built for a storm.
“You’re still shaking,” Derek said, not looking up.
I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I’m not. I’m just... cold.”
“You’re lying,” he countered, finally standing s
