Chapter 17

Marie’s POV

"One week," Tristan says, back at my house after everything at the club, sitting close on the edge of my bed while I'm still shaking off the adrenaline of it. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes bright with that eager, fast-moving energy he gets when he’s made up his mind. "I've had this planned for a while, actually. Booked it last week. Hilton Head. I got us a place at Coral Key — right on the water, private beach, the whole thing." He takes my hand "Come with me. Let’s get out of here for a few days. God knows you could use it after tonight."

I look at him, and something in my chest, still unsettled from the parking lot, from Dean, from everything I don't have words for yet, reaches for the idea of it like a rope thrown into water. The thought of stepping away from the club, from the noise, from the heavy silence in Frank’s house, feels almost overwhelmingly necessary.

"Yes,&quo