(Ridge)
He was thinking, trying to find something solid to stand on in a place where nothing belonged to him anymore. That kind of thinking usually came too late, and I could already hear it settling in the way his breathing shifted.
I leaned back slightly and watched him without needing his eyes.
“You really believe that,” I said. “All that talk about what she owes you, like it still means something here. Like you can walk in and collect it the same way you always have.”
He didn’t answer.
That told me more than anything he could’ve said.
I picked the gun up again and turned it once in my hand, not cleaning it now, just letting the weight of it sit where he could hear the movement. The room stayed quiet around us, no voices outside the door, no interruption coming in. That kind of qu
