Chapter Eighty-Eight
The morning light crept through the high window in soft, pale gray bands, filtering across the heavy quilt.
For the first time in days, I woke up to the steady, rhythmic thud of Jake’s heartbeat beneath my ear. His broad arm was draped heavily over my waist, pinning me flush against his warm side, his long fingers resting lightly against my hip. The quiet stillness of the room felt different from the tense, heavy silences of the safehouse; it felt like a truce.
I didn't move. I just stayed there, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest, letting the familiar scent of cedarwood, soft cotton, and faint motor oil ground me.
Jake stirred slowly, a low, quiet rumble echoing in his chest as his grip on my waist tightened almost defensively. His gray eyes opened, dar
