All Chapters of Call it love,Call it war: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The air in Kael’s cabin was thick with silence. Riven stood by the window, one hand pressed to the cold glass, his breath fogging up the corner. He hadn’t heard from Roman. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing. And the longer the silence stretched, the more it scraped at his chest.Kael leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him. “You’ve been at that window for an hour.”Riven didn’t turn. “You think he reached her?”Kael rubbed his jaw. “He knows how to disappear. If he wanted to reach Jesse, he did.”Riven let out a low exhale. “That’s not what I meant.”Before Kael could respond, the sound of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Harlow came into view, her bag slung over her shoulder, hair damp from a rushed shower.“I have to go,” she said quickly, grabbing her tablet and half-zipped hoodie.Riven blinked. “Now?”She nodded. “There’s a journalist from the city who’s been poking into the fire. And someone’s been asking about me at my old apartment. I don’t know if it’s the press, or

The light slanting through the curtains was dull and pale, a quiet gray that bled over Kael’s living room like a hush. Riven woke tangled in Kael’s arm, their legs still draped across each other from the night before. For a while, he didn’t move. He just stayed there—warm, suspended in this rare peace, listening to the soft rise and fall of Kael’s breathing.His phone lit up with a quiet buzz on the coffee table.Riven reached for the phone.Still nothing from Roman.No missed calls. No updates. No anything.He slid out from under Kael’s arm gently and stood, rubbing his chest like he could settle the throb under his ribs.The kitchen was quiet, but it didn’t stay that way for long.Kael appeared minutes later, barefoot and shirtless, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Did you sleep?” he asked.Riven didn’t answer directly. “Still no word.”Kael moved past him and set a kettle on the stove. The silence that stretched between them wasn’t hostile, but it was tight.“I don’t know how you’re s

The burner phone blinked silently in Riven’s hand. The message was still there, glowing faint in the dark:Midnight. East Ridge.But now it was nearly dawn, and the sky was shifting from black to steel-gray.He sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed. Hoodie zipped halfway, boots laced to his ankles but not tied. His fingers hovered at the laces like they weren’t sure what to do next.Downstairs, a soft creak on the stairs. Riven turned his head.Kael appeared in the doorway, already in boots and a thermal, face unreadable.“You’re up early,” Kael said.“So are you.”They didn’t say anything else.They moved quietly through the house, each man packing without instruction: flashlight, burner phone, one handgun Kael tucked into the glove compartment, a power bank, a first-aid kit. Riven hesitated over the last thing — a polaroid of him and Roman as kids, barely visible through years of wear. He tucked it into his jacket.Kael watched him from across the room. “Still time to back out.

Kael sat at the kitchen table, nursing black coffee that had gone cold hours ago. Riven paced the room in circles, his sneakers squeaking against the warped floorboards. Every few minutes, he’d check his phone, then stuff it back into his pocket, then drag it out again. Ari lay on the couch with his feet kicked up, twirling a cigarette between his fingers but never lighting it.Mrs. Bea’s clock ticked in the corner, every second feeling louder than words.Finally, Riven broke. “We can’t just sit here doing nothing. Roman could be—” His throat caught. “He could be out there waiting for us.”Kael’s jaw flexed, the muscle working beneath his beard. “And if we rush in blind, we’ll get ourselves killed before we even reach him.”“That’s not good enough,” Riven snapped, spinning toward him. “You keep acting like patience is some kind of strategy. What if it’s just cowardice?”The words landed like a slap. Ari whistled low, muttering, “Ouch, bro,” before sitting up and grabbing his shotgun t

Riven leaned against the counter, arms folded tight across his chest, his leg bouncing like it was trying to run away from him. Ari sprawled on the couch with a shotgun resting across his lap, eyes alert despite the casual slouch. Mrs. Bea had taken the rocking chair, hands wrapped around her rosary, lips moving in silent prayer.Roman’s absence hung like a noose. Jesse sat near the stairs, face pale and raw, one of Kael’s hoodies swallowed around her small frame. Every so often her eyes darted to the door, as if expecting her brother to walk in.“Someone talk,” Ari muttered finally, voice sharp from the tension. “Or else I’m gonna start singing, and trust me—none of you want that.”No one laughed.Riven spoke first. “That message—it wasn’t just a threat. ‘House without a chimney’? That’s a clue. Roman’s alive, Kael.” His voice cracked at the end, but his stare was steel.Kael dragged in smoke, then crushed the cigarette out. “And what if it’s bait? Mason wants us moving blind.”“The