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Chapter 18

Author: rouge
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-07 17:43:03

Ingrid

I didn’t expect to laugh today.

Not after the basement. Not after the sting of chains and the taste of betrayal. But here I was, tucked in the middle of madness and masculine chaos—laughing like a girl who hadn’t bled.

Jaxon and Rick were arguing over who could land a better knockout punch. I was roasting a half-burned hotdog on a stick, and Jace—being Jace—shut them both up by throwing a knife between their feet.

I screamed. The knife embedded into the soil with a dull thud.

They roared with laughter. Rick called him a psycho. Jace just grinned without looking up.

That was their language. Blunt force and reckless grins. The kind that told me this—whatever “this” was—was their version of home.

I sat cross-legged on the grass in Rick’s oversized shirt, feet bare, hair a mess, skin still bruised from what I survived. And for a stupid, stolen moment, it all felt light. Like breathing after suffocating.

But it didn’t last.

Because I remembered.

He is still here. In the basement. In
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