Page 135 of Mission Shift

“I grew up working-class,” I went on. “Tacoma’s not some glamorous city, but it’s solid. Real people, real problems. I’ve been a paramedic for twelve years. We clock in, save who we can, and then go home, hoping we leave the ghosts back in the rig. And I thought that was intense…until this.”

She tilted her head. “Do you like being a paramedic?”

“Yeah, I still do. Every call’s different. Every person matters. You see people at their worst—and sometimes, you give them a chance to live another day. I get to make a real difference in people’s lives.”

Her eyes lingered on me. “That tracks with the man I’m getting to know. You keep making it harder not to like you.”

I shrugged. “There’s not a lot of glamor in it. Some days, it’s sprained ankles and car wrecks with nothing but bruises. Other days, it’s holding pressure on a bullet hole and praying they make it to the hospital alive.”

“And on your days off?”

I leaned back against the cushions as a gust of wind raked through my hair. “Mount Rainier’s about an hour from my place. My brothers and I have a little cabin on a lake near there. Conan rebuilt the dock last summer. We fish, paddleboard, and grill whatever we catch. At night we sit around a fire, talk shit, and pass around beers. That’s always a good time.”

She rested her elbow on a cushion, chin in hand, watching me with something close to amusement.

“There’s a hot tub too,” I added. “It’s one of the best parts of the place. I sit in the bubbles, crack open something cold, turn on the radio, and watch the stars blow up the sky.”

She laughed. “You still listen to the radio?”

“What can I say? I’m a traditionalist. Not all of us have some state-approved playlist from the Kremlin.”

“I don’t listen to those,” she said with a smirk. “I’ve found ways around the censors.”

“Bet your playlist’s full of sad Russian violin ballads and protest rap.”

“Don’t forget the angry female punk bands,” she added.

I chuckled and raised my bottle to her. “To angry women with knives.”

She clinked her glass against my beer.

We sat like that for a while, with the storm rolling in the distance and the deck gently rocking beneath us. Daria closed her eyes, and her chest rose and fell slowly. She looked relaxed.

But the second I’d cracked that joke about her Kremlin-approved playlist, it had forced my mind back to the situation at hand.

That was all it took to yank my brain straight back to reality. I hadn’t meant to bring it up, but there it was—Russia, her father, the hit list with her name on it. This wasn’t some vacation. We weren’t out here just soaking up the view. She was being hunted.

I shifted on the cushion, set my bottle on the low table beside us, and turned toward her fully.

“Daria—you’ve got a target on your back the size of Moscow. The Kremlin’s hunting you, and your father wants you dead. Nik bought you a little time. That’s all it is, a breathing space. And I’ll support whatever you decide—to fight, flee, or vanish entirely. Even if that means me staying the hell away from you.”

She studied me for a moment. “It’s not you I want to stay away from.”

I swallowed hard. “No?”

She shook her head, then glanced down. “I don’t trust easily. And I don’t like being lied to. But I understand why you didn’t tell me about Nikolai. And I appreciate you trying to protect me…even when it made me want to kill you.”

“High praise.”

She gave me a quick glance out of the corner of her eye. “You are a good man, Braxton. That’s not something I’ve known before. The men in my life have not been…like you.”

Her gaze drifted, and her brow tightened.

“And Nikolai?” she added. “He may have surprised me by helping me and acting differently from the way I’d expected. But I don’t trust him. He’s too smooth. Too polished. Men like that are always up to something.”

I nodded. “He’s not what I expected either. But he took a bullet in Manhattan for my family. And he didn’t have to. So yeah, I don’t fully know him—but I owe him.”

We grew quiet again. The sky darkened a few more shades. The horizon blurred into the mist.

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