Chapter 13 – Gathering Intel in Secret
Sam's POV
Revenge doesn’t come gift-wrapped.
It doesn’t knock politely on your door and say, “Here’s the truth you’ve been waiting for.”
You have to dig for it. Bleed for it. Risk everything for it.
And if I want to take down Declan Ward and his pack of wolves, I need more than suspicion and gut instinct.
I need proof.
The first chance comes late at night, after lights-out.
Elias is asleep—or at least I hope he is. He lies so still in his bed sometimes I can’t tell if he’s dreaming or just pretending.
I wait. Ten minutes. Twenty. The quiet stretches thick, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building and the distant thud of bass from another dorm’s party.
Finally, I slip out from under my blanket, every movement slow, deliberate. My hoodie muffles the sound of my breath as I crouch by the desk.
Declan’s crew aren’t exactly geniuses. They brag. They leave things lying around. Notes, schedules, even their damn phones.
I just need one piece. One crumb that leads me closer to what they did to Lily.
The thought of her name alone is enough to steady me.
The hallway is pitch-dark, shadows stretching long. The dorm rules say no one’s supposed to be out this late, but rules mean nothing to these boys. They own the place.
I pad quietly past Elias’s side of the room, holding my breath.
Then a flick of light flashes.
My chest seizes.
The faint glow of a lighter sparks behind me.
“You going somewhere?” Elias’s voice is low, steady, too awake.
I freeze. My back is to him, hoodie pulled tight, but my mind spins. Think. Lie. Something, anything.
“Bathroom,” I mutter, lowering my voice as much as I can. “Couldn’t sleep.”
A pause. Then the lighter snaps shut.
“Don’t get lost,” he says softly.
I force myself to walk away, calm, casual, every step measured. My palms are sweating.
Did he buy it? Or is he letting me hang myself later?
Declan’s room is two doors down from ours. Of course it is. Like the universe is playing some sick joke, keeping my sister’s murderer within arm’s reach.
The door is locked, but locks here are cheap. A thin card from my wallet slides in, a quick jiggle, and the knob clicks open.
My heart hammers as I slip inside.
The air smells like cologne and stale smoke. Clothes are strewn everywhere, textbooks cracked open on the floor. Declan’s world is chaos, but even chaos leaves patterns.
I sift fast, careful. Drawers. Papers. Nothing but receipts and crumpled notes. My hands shake as I flip through his planner. Parties. Soccer practice. A scribbled name—“Jax.”
I snap a picture with my phone before tucking it back exactly as I found it.
Then I find something else.
A flash drive, small and black, half-hidden under a stack of magazines.
My pulse spikes.
People like Declan don’t hide receipts or homework. They hide secrets.
I pocket it before I can talk myself out of it.
A noise snaps through the quiet.
Footsteps. Heavy, uneven.
My blood runs cold.
I drop into a crouch, pressing myself behind the desk just as the door handle rattles.
The door swings open.
Declan’s laugh fills the room, followed by another boy’s voice. “Can’t believe she—”
I clamp a hand over my mouth. My lungs ache with the effort not to breathe too loud.
The two of them stumble in, drunk, reeking of alcohol and smoke. Declan drops something onto his bed with a dull thud.
They talk. About practice. About girls. About everything except the one thing I need.
Then, suddenly—
Declan lowers his voice.
“You didn’t say anything, did you?”
The other boy snorts. “Hell no. You think I’m stupid?”
Declan’s laugh is sharp, ugly. “Good. Because if anyone finds out what really happened…”
The words trail off. My nails dig into my palms, desperate for more.
But the conversation shifts again, casual, meaningless. They’re too wasted to care.
Minutes stretch into forever. Finally, Declan passes out on his bed, the other boy crashing on the floor.
I crawl on hands and knees, inch by inch, toward the door.
Every creak feels like a gunshot. Every breath feels like it might give me away.
When I finally slip into the hallway, my legs nearly give out from relief.
Back in my room, I close the door softly, leaning against it as my heart races.
Elias is awake.
Of course he is.
He’s sitting on his bed, lighter flicking open and shut, eyes steady on me.
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t ask where I’ve been.
But his gaze drops briefly to my pocket.
Where the flash drive burns like a live coal.
I swallow hard, forcing a casual shrug. “Bathroom.”
He flicks the lighter again. Flame. Darkness. Flame. Darkness.
“You were gone a long time,” he says quietly.
The air between us crackles, thick and heavy.
I want to scream at him, tell him to stop looking at me like that, like he already knows everything I’m trying to hide.
But I can’t.
So I crawl into bed, pulling the blanket tight around me.
“Goodnight,” I mutter.
His lighter snaps shut.
In the silence that follows, I can feel his eyes still on me.
And all I can think about is the flash drive burning a hole in my pocket…
And what might be on it.
I don’t sleep. Not really.
All night, I replay his words. Declan’s laugh. That half-sentence cut off too soon.
If that drive holds even a sliver of proof—messages, videos, anything—it could be the key to tearing him down.
But proof cuts both ways.
If Elias sees it first…
If Declan realizes it’s missing…
My disguise won’t save me.
Nothing will.
The next morning, I slip out early, before Elias stirs. I don’t dare look at him.
The flash drive is heavy in my pocket, heavier than a stone.
I need a computer. I need privacy. I need answers.
And I need them before anyone finds out what I’ve taken.
I duck into the empty library, shoving the flash drive into the port with shaking hands.
The screen flickers.
Folders pop up.
My throat tightens as I click.
Videos. Dozens of them.
And one file with a name that makes my blood run cold.
“L.H.”
Lily Hale.
My sister.
My vision blurs, rage and grief tangling so tight I can barely breathe.
I double-click.
The screen floods with static—
And then a voice behind me cuts through the air like a blade.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I spin, heart stopping.
Elias is standing in the doorway.
His eyes are locked on the computer screen.
And I know—
He sees everything.