Chapter Seventy-Seven
Blade’s pov
The day crawled by with the agonizing, suffocating slowness of a death row sentence. Each hour felt like a physical weight, pressing down on my chest until it was hard to draw a full breath. I spent the afternoon in the garage, my hands moving with a mechanical, mindless rhythm as I stripped my bike down to its frame and rebuilt it. I needed the labor. I needed the grease, the oil, and the sharp bite of metal against my skin to keep me from spiraling. Every time my focus wavered, my mind drifted to the old, abandoned watchtower at the edge of the property.
I had made my decision. I was done with the shadows. I was done with the lies that had become a second skin, slowly suffocating the man I used to be. I was going to tell Skyler everything. I was going
