Chapter 42: Ghost in the Rearview

Chapter 42: Ghost in the Rearview

The Oregon coast highway stretched like a promise, asphalt ribbons threading between pine forests and cliff-edge ocean views. Lila's fingers drummed against the passenger window, condensation blooming and fading with each tap. Three days since Crestfall disappeared in the rearview mirror. Three days of motels with scratchy sheets and diners serving eggs that tasted like cardboard. Three days of freedom that felt more like limbo.
Evan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh—an anchor she desperately needed. The radio murmured classic rock, something about Hotel California and checking out but never leaving. Ironic.
"You're thinking too loud," Evan said, his green eyes flicking toward her.
Lila forced a smile. "Just adjusting."
"Liar." His thumb traced circles on her jeans. "Talk to me."
She wanted to. Wanted to articulate the strange hollowness that had settled in her chest the moment they'd crossed state lines. But how did you explain missing something that had tried to kill you? How did you confess that freedom felt like drowning?
"I keep checking my phone," she admitted finally. "Waiting for Sofia's texts. Vera's updates. Even Damon's cryptic bullshit." She laughed, the sound brittle. "Pathetic, right? Three days out and I'm already nostalgic for the place that ruined me."
Evan's jaw tightened. "Crestfall didn't ruin you. It revealed you. There's a difference."
The words should have comforted. Instead, they scraped against something raw inside her. Revealed what? That she was capable of violence? That she could stand over The Broker's unconscious body and seriously consider pulling the trigger? That some part of her had thrived on the danger, the power, the intoxicating rush of survival?
Her phone buzzed. A text from Sofia: Miss you already. MIT orientation is overwhelming. Wish you were here.
Lila typed back: You've got this. Remember—you hacked The Broker's entire network. College will be easy.
Another buzz. Jonas this time: Physical therapy sucks. Doc says my shoulder might never be 100%. But hey, chicks dig scars, right?
Guilt twisted her stomach. Jonas's wound was her fault. His shattered shoulder, his lost career as a hacker who needed precision—all because he'd followed her into that penthouse, trusted her plan, believed in her cause.
She typed: I'm sorry.
Jonas's response was immediate: Don't. I'd do it again. You saved Crestfall. That's worth a busted shoulder.
But was it? Was any of it worth the cost?
The highway curved inland, trees pressing close, their shadows striping the windshield. Evan pulled into a rest stop—weathered picnic tables and vending machines humming in the afternoon heat.
"Bathroom break," he announced, killing the engine.
Lila climbed out, her legs cramping from hours of sitting. The air smelled of pine sap and hot asphalt, so different from Crestfall's ocean-salt-and-exhaust perfume. She stretched, vertebrae popping, and headed toward the restrooms.
Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed over cracked tile. Lila splashed water on her face, studying her reflection. The scar on her shoulder where Tessa's bullet had grazed her was fading but visible, a pale line against tanned skin. She looked different—harder, leaner, eyes shadowed by things no twenty-five-year-old should have seen.
Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number. She almost ignored it, then curiosity won.
The text was a photo: Crestfall's skyline at night, neon bleeding into storm clouds. Below it, a single word: Home.
Lila's breath caught. She dialed immediately, fingers shaking.
Damon answered on the first ring. "Miss me already, Voss?"
"Why are you texting me?" Her voice was sharper than intended.
"Because you need to know something." Damon's tone lost its playful edge. "Marco escaped witness protection two days ago. Federal marshals found his handler dead, throat slit. Professional job."
Ice flooded Lila's veins. "That's impossible. He was protected, hidden—"
"Someone wanted him found." Damon's voice was grim. "Someone with resources, connections, and a grudge. The kind of someone who'd hire an assassin to retrieve a loose end."
"Who?" But Lila already knew. The answer crystallized like frost on glass.
"Tessa had allies we didn't know about," Damon said. "People who see Marco as leverage. He knows things, Lila. About you, about the Protocol, about everyone who helped take down The Broker. If they extract that information..."
"They'll come after us." Lila slumped against the bathroom wall, cold tile pressing through her shirt. "All of us. Sofia, Jonas, Vera, Evan—"
"Exactly." Damon paused. "I'm sending you coordinates. A safe house in Northern California, off-grid, secure. Get there. Now. I'll handle Crestfall's end, but you need to disappear properly this time."
"Why are you helping me?" The question escaped before she could stop it.
Damon's laugh was soft, almost fond. "Because you were the only person who ever looked at me and saw something worth saving. Even if you chose to walk away." His voice hardened. "And because Marco Voss doesn't get to win. Not after everything."
The call ended. Lila stared at her phone, Damon's coordinates glowing on the screen. Northern California. Deeper into hiding. Further from the life she'd barely started building.
Evan appeared in the doorway, concern etching lines around his eyes. "What's wrong?"
She showed him the text, watched his expression shift from confusion to fury to resigned determination.
"Marco's out," he said flatly.
"And hunting." Lila pocketed her phone. "Damon says Tessa's allies broke him free. They want information—about the Protocol, about everyone involved."
Evan's fists clenched. "Then we run. We disappear so deep they'll never find us."
"They already know about Sofia. Jonas. Vera." Lila's voice cracked. "Running won't protect them. It'll just make them easier targets while we're gone."
The realization hung between them, heavy as a death sentence. They could run—hide in Damon's safe house, change names, start over. But their crew would remain exposed, vulnerable, sitting ducks for whoever wanted revenge.
Or they could go back.
"No," Evan said, reading her expression. "Absolutely not. We're done with Crestfall. Done bleeding for that city."
"Our friends aren't done bleeding for us." Lila met his gaze, her jaw set. "Marco won't stop until he gets revenge. And Tessa's allies—whoever they are—won't rest until everyone who touched The Broker's empire is dead."
"Then we warn them. Tell them to run, hide—"
"They won't." Lila's certainty was bone-deep. "Sofia's got MIT. Jonas is in physical therapy. Vera's building a new life as a consultant. They can't just vanish. And even if they could, Marco knows them. He'd hunt them down."
Evan's face twisted with anguish. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we finish this." The words tasted like ash and blood. "We find Marco before he finds them. We end the threat permanently."
"By going back to the city that nearly destroyed you." Evan's voice was raw. "By throwing away everything we fought for—our freedom, our future, our chance at normal."
"There is no normal while Marco's breathing." Lila touched his face, her thumb tracing the scar the Broker had left. "I know what I'm asking. I know it's not fair. But I can't live with their blood on my hands."
Evan closed his eyes, his breath shuddering. When he opened them, resignation and love warred in their depths.
"Then we go back," he said quietly. "Together. One last time."
Lila kissed him—desperate, grateful, terrified. "One last time," she echoed.
They returned to the car in silence. Evan reprogrammed the GPS, plotting a course back toward the city they'd fled. Crestfall's coordinates glowed on the screen like a curse.
Lila's phone buzzed. Sofia: Something weird happened. Someone tried to access my cloud storage. Federal-grade hacking attempt. Should I be worried?
Yes, Lila typed back. Pack a bag. Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'll explain soon.
Another text. Vera: Got a weird visit from two men claiming to be federal auditors. Asking questions about The Broker's associates. Felt off.
Lila's hands shook as she responded: Leave town. Now. I'll call you in an hour.
Jonas: Saw Marco's mugshot on the news. He escaped? WTF is happening?
The dominoes were falling. Marco's allies—whoever they were—had already started moving, probing defenses, identifying targets. Lila's crew was scattered, vulnerable, unaware of the knife aimed at their backs.
"We need to get there fast," she told Evan.
He pressed the accelerator, the car surging forward. "We will."
But as Oregon's forests blurred past, Lila couldn't shake the feeling that they were already too late. That somewhere in Crestfall's neon-soaked streets, Marco Voss was smiling, his betrayed-husband rage transformed into calculated vengeance.
The ghost they'd left behind was awake.
And it wanted blood.