Ryker’s POV:
The property gates slide open behind us.
I don’t look back.
The road stretches ahead, dim streetlights passing in rhythmic flashes across the windshield. For a while, it’s just the sound of tires on asphalt and the faint rattle of the rifle case in the back.
Jace breaks the silence first.
“So,” he says, leaning his elbow against the window, watching the road ahead, “Marco gave me logistics.”
I don’t respond.
“Angles. Distance. Entry and exit. Fallback routes.”
“But he didn’t give me context.”
I keep my eyes forward.
“All I got was ‘Matteo’s a bad man.’”
He lets out a quiet scoff.
“A bad man doesn’t usually require this much effort.”
I tighten my grip on the wheel slightly.
“He hurt her,” I say.
Jace doesn’t immediately reply.
“What kind of hurt?” he asks after
