LOGINLucas’s POV My eyes cracked open to the low hum of machines and the faint sting of antiseptic lingering in the air. My shoulder throbbed with a deep, burning pain, a brutal reminder of where the bullet had gone through. I didn’t even need to move to know every small motion was going to hurt like hell. So I stayed still for a moment, letting my instincts kick in before my brain fully caught up. I scanned the room automatically. White walls. Steady beeping from the monitors. The door shut tight. One chair pulled close beside my bed. Mercer was sitting there, his elbows resting on his knees, watching me like he hadn’t moved in hours. I let out a rough breath and tried pushing myself up with my good arm. The second I moved, pain ripped through my shoulder. My vision blurred for a moment, and my entire body reminded me exactly how much damage I had taken. “Shit.” “Easy there, Sparky,” Mercer said, his voice low and exhausted. “You’re in a hospital, not a prison. You don’t need to
Tiffany’s POV The next morning, I found myself standing inside the airport terminal with my duffel bag hanging from my shoulder. I pulled out the new phone Mercer had given me and checked his message for what had to be the fifth time. His instructions had been simple. 'Meet Detective Summer Abrams near Gate 12.' Except apparently, finding one specific person in an airport filled with thousands of travelers was not nearly as easy as Mercer made it sound. The problem was not just the crowd. It was the thoughts. Airports were basically torture for someone like me. Everywhere I looked, someone’s mind was shouting something. [Please don’t let my luggage be overweight.][Did I lock the front door? I definitely locked it. Right?][If my flight gets delayed again, I’m going to lose it.][Why is this line moving so slowly? The person in front of me has been standing there forever.][Should I buy a sandwich? No, it’s too expensive. But I’m hungry. Okay, maybe just the sandwich.] It wa
Tiffany’s POV I stared at the folder in front of me like it might bite me. “No. I’m not going back to Riverton.” Mercer didn’t react. He just watched me carefully. I didn’t have to read his mind to know he was expecting me to fight him on this. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Tiffany, but it’s the only option I have right now,” he said. “You can’t read Scars, but your gift hasn’t disappeared. It still works on everyone else. Even Jacquelline.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. Riverton had been hard. The interrogation rooms. The criminals sitting across from me while their thoughts revealed everything they refused to say out loud. The things I heard. The things I couldn’t forget. But the truth was, I had been dealing with other people’s darkness long before I became a detective. I remembered being a kid and hearing my mother come home drunk late at night. I remembered the anger in her thoughts before she ever opened her mouth. She hated my ability. She hated that I co
Tiffany's POV They took Lucas straight to Valor Medical Center, a highly secured private facility reserved exclusively for injured cops and federal agents, while I was sent straight back to the safehouse. The moment I walked through the front door, I stopped. My eyes immediately went to Lucas’s closed bedroom door, and suddenly I was pulled back to my first morning there. The awkward silence in the hallway. The way we had stared at each other, both of us completely horrified when we realized Mercer had forced us into the same space. I shook my head, pushing the memory away before it could settle. Not now. I went into my room, stripped out of the hospital gown, and stood under the shower until the water turned cold. Even then, I barely moved, letting the numbness settle over me for a few extra seconds before finally stepping out. I pulled on my uniform and headed straight to the station. ***** The second I stepped into the station, the familiar wave of mental static crashed ov
Tiffany's POV “Whoa, Tiffany, slow down.” Mercer was clearly caught off guard. He masked it quickly, his voice going soft and steady to ground me before I completely lost it. “Breathe, kid. I know what happened out there. My informant filled me in. Trust me, Hale is going to be okay. I’ve seen that stubborn boy survive a lot worse than a bullet to the shoulder. He’ll bounce back. So stop beating yourself up. None of this is your fault.” I tightened my grip on the phone until my knuckles went white. “Of course it’s my fault,” I said, my voice shaking. “Hale got shot, and the whole ship… God, Captain, it went down. Criminals or not, there were families up there, kids. So many people. I could hear them screaming when the explosions started and I just stood there like…” “Tiffany.” [Okay, she’s not breathing. She is definitely not breathing.] “…like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. I should’ve seen it coming. If my stupid gift had just…” “Tiffany, stop.” His tone sharpened ju
Tiffany’s POV Scars closed his eyes for a single second. When he opened them again, that cold focus was back in place like it had never left. “When is the chopper getting here?” he demanded. The man shook his head, visibly tense. “Almost here. But it won’t make it before the timer hits zero. We have to take the tenders right now.” Scars gave a sharp nod. “Get Xavia to the primary tender. Don’t let her out of your sight. Go.” The man moved immediately. Scars turned his focus back to Lucas. Even with everything happening around us, his hands stayed steady. I watched him work, pressing firmly against the wound in Lucas’s shoulder, then tearing a strip from his own shirt to wrap it tightly. The blood slowed, but it didn’t stop. He had done this before. Of course he had. Probably too many times for a mafia boss who lived in blood and violence. “You’ve been shot before, haven’t you?” I asked, my voice rough. Scars didn’t look up. “More times than I can count. You learn fast when peo
Tiffany's POV Hours later, I found myself staring at the bag sitting on the bed. The clock on the wall read nine o’clock. We had exactly two hours before the ship sailed, and for the first time, the weight of what we were about to walk into really started settling in my stomach. I slipped into t
Tiffany’s POV Five minutes later, we were shoved into matching salon chairs. Apparently, the “premium transformation package” came with champagne, cucumber water, and two stylists aggressively touching our hair without permission. I stared at myself in the mirror while a pink-haired stylist sect
Tiffany's POV “Alright then, I’m leaving before you suddenly decide I need a fake fiancé too.” Mercer snorted quietly, already reaching for another file. “Don’t tempt me.” A small laugh escaped me before I turned toward the door. “Oh, and Tiffany?” Mercer called before I reached it. I glanced b
Tiffany's POV The second I stepped into the station, thoughts crashed into me from every direction. [Oh God, she's the mindreader girl!][Don't think weird stuff!][Can she hear this right now?][Why am I sweating?][This is how villains feel around Superman.] I paused and shut my eyes for a sec







