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SEVENTY-SIX: Did You Mean It?
publish date:
2025-12-06 23:00:29Author’s Note: Hey fam! So remember when I gave a vague estimate for how many chapters were left? Well, I am here to confirm that chapter 79 will be the end of SIR. I get so emotional just thinking about it, and I am not even remotely ready for it to be over. But let's do the damn thing together.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ David leads me into his apartment, not commenting on the mess he has to guide me through. Or maybe he doesn’t even notice.
Latest chapter
SIR #95: I Believe You
My father takes the news about Carver’s condition with a stillness that scares me considerably more than shouting would have. He doesn’t slam his hand on the desk. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t demand anyone repeat themselves, doesn’t do any of the things I’ve watched him do when a business deal falls through or a rival tries something petty. He just sits there for a long moment, absorbing it, his eyes going somewhere distant like he’s already three moves ahead in a chess game the rest of us haven’t even realized we’re playing. “A machine keeping him alive, you said,” he says finally, mostly to himself. “He’s in a coma,” Eli confirms. “Apparently, the bullet grazed his brain not bad enough to kill him but bad enough to out him on life support. There’s no version of that man giving orders from a hospital bed, not for weeks, maybe longer.” “Then someone else has been,” my father says. “Which means everything we’ve been calling Carver’s operation for the last several months was
SIR #94: Right Back Where They Started
Rourke gave them one usable thing before they took him downtown – a drop location, a mailbox rental two towns over where the payout had been left in cash, no camera coverage, no forwarding address on file, the kind of dead end that would have stopped most investigations cold if Elias hadn’t spent months learning exactly how men like Carver structured their money trails. Zeke insisted on running it together. Neither of them says it out loud, but Elias understands the reasoning without needing it explained. David wants this contained to the smallest circle possible, and right now that circle consists of exactly two people with the skill set to actually work a stakeout properly, and one of them happens to be a man the other one still doesn’t trust. The first night in the car is almost entirely silent. They sit parked a block from the mailbox facility with a clean line of sight to the entrance, coffee going cold in the cupholders, and for six hours the only sounds are the occasional c
SIR #93: Ghost
Author’s Note (I know y’all are sick of this. I’m sorry, I just love talking to you guys): Hi, my lovelies! First of all, I’m so sorry for disappearing over the last five days. I’ve been buried under tests and preparing for my exams, which officially start on Monday. 🥲 But I’m back now, and I come bearing chapters! Now for the bittersweet news… I’ve officially outlined the rest of I Hate You Too, and I’m both excited and a little heartbroken to say that the story will be coming to an end by the end of this month. The Reids have been such a huge part of my life since last year, so it’s honestly hard to imagine saying goodbye to them. But every story deserves its ending, and I think it’s finally time to put SIR to rest. On a happier note, I also have a brand-new book on my profile called His Undercover Submissive! I’ve poured just as much love, time, and chaos into that story as I have this one, so I’d absolutely love it if you checked it out and showed it some love. Leave a few
SIR #92: The Entire List
Elias watches her face while he explains everything – the shell corporation, the staffing filings, the single occupied room repeated down the entire length of a logbook he had no business reading through a window. He tells her about the four guards rotating a wing built to look like nothing, and about standing in the treeline at midnight cataloguing every detail he could get without crossing a line he wasn’t ready to cross alone. Lucia goes quiet or a while as she absorbs all the information and processes it. “We can’t go back there,” she says finally. “At least not without some backup.” Elias knows exactly who she means, and he knows what saying it out loud is going to cost both of them. “You’re talking about telling your father everything.” “I’m talking about not running this alone anymore,” she says. “You know what’s in that facility. I know what’s been happening at my house. If we keep sitting on separate halves of this and trying to solve it in secret, someone’s going t
SIR #91: It Wasn’t About Him
I text Eli four times before noon and get nothing back. Not even the clipped, professional one word responses he’d normally manage even when he’s furious with me, the kind of restraint that used to make me want to throw something at his head purely for the audacity of staying composed while I fell apart. Nothing. I know exactly why, obviously. I’ve known since the second I saw his face through that glass partition, frozen for half a beat too long before he disappeared, and I’ve spent every hour since then sitting with a private kind of shame I haven’t handed to a single person, not Danielle, not my mother, not even Zeke, who was standing directly in the middle of the thing I’m currently ashamed of. Zeke, for his part, has gone quieter than I’ve ever seen him. He still shows up for training, still drives me to school, still does his job with the exact competence he’s always brought to it, but there’s a distance in it now that feels less like anger and more like guilt wearing the
SIR #90: Never Supposed To Find
Elias sets the duffel bag down just inside the door carefully and quietly, the same way he’s learned to move through rooms where the wrong sound at the wrong moment costs you something. Neither of them turns around. Neither of them hears the door click shut behind him. He walks the whole way home. It’s forty minutes, longer than the bus, longer than he has any good reason to choose on a night this cold, but he needs the distance to do something with the noise currently filling his skull, and walking has always worked better than sitting still ever has. He replays it the entire way, on a loop his brain refuses to switch off. Her hand fisting in Zeke’s shirt. The half second before either of them moved. The way Zeke went still and then didn’t stay still. He tells himself he has no right to be angry. He tells himself this with the specific, repetitive insistence of a man trying to talk himself down from a ledge he’s already standing on. He’s the one who lied for months. He’s the o
SIR Epilogue
The bedroom door is barely closed before David's hands are on me, sliding up under the thin silk of my robe as he backs me against the wall.I tilt my head back against the cool plaster, letting him kiss down the column of my throat while my fingers work the buttons of his shirt open. His skin is s
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