Page 62 of Raven

I sat backon the plane and closed my eyes.

We were taking the guys to the base, and then we’d be headed home.

It had been six weeks since I’d seen Beatrice, and the ache in my chest hadn’t eased once.

I knew one thing: I missed her more than I’ve ever missed anyone. I hoped she still wanted me, now that she knew my job took me away sometimes for weeks at a time

She had to—because I wasn’t going to let her slip away.

I loved her.

And I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

* * *

I wokewhen the wheels hit the runway.

As we walked off the plane, a group of SEALs was there to collect us.

It brought back a wave of memories—coming in from ops, the air still thick with adrenaline and dust.

Now we were the Golden Team.

We chose our missions. We chose who we saved.

* * *

I cutthe engine of my truck and sat in silence, my heart hammering in my chest.

Six weeks.

The dim neon glow of the firehouse sign washed across the windshield as I stared at it, barely breathing.

I’d driven here the second my boots hit American soil. The dust of the mission was still on my gear, but I didn’t care.

All I could think about was her.

Her smile.

Those fierce, firelit eyes.

The feel of her in my arms.

Tonight, I was home. And I was going to tell her exactly what she meant to me.

* * *

But something felt wrong.

The firehouse doors were open. Two firefighters stood just outside, arms crossed under the streetlight's amber glow.

No laughter. No joking. No music.

Just tension.

An uneasy prickle ran up my spine. I slammed my truck door and walked toward them, my duffel forgotten.

“Raven!” Mark called when he spotted me. There was relief in his eyes, but it was edged with worry.

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