Chapter Thirty-Six
Blade’s POV
The dinner ended without another slip, but the air inside my small bunkhouse room felt thicker than ever. I stripped off my button-down shirt and threw it over the back of the chair, my mind hyper-focused. Grip was still concussed in the infirmary, Skyler was successfully thrown off the scent, and Stone thought I was his golden boy.
Everything was perfectly aligned for me to secure a new burner phone tomorrow and re-establish contact with the Vipers.
Then, just past midnight, my door didn’t just open—it was kicked off the latch.
I spun around, my hand instantly diving beneath my pillow for the backup blade I kept taped to the frame, but I stopped dead when I saw who was standing in the doorway. It wasn't Grip, and it wasn't a Viper hit squad.
It was Pre
