Page 107 of Risky Passion

I met her gaze, and the vulnerability in her eyes hit me harder than I expected.

She laced our fingers together, and I pressed her palm to mine. “I just wanted to say thank you again. For saving me. And . . . be careful, okay?”

Her voice was soft, but her words carried weight. The sweetness and sincerity in her tone broke through the chaos buzzing in my head. I squeezed her hand, holding it for a beat longer than I needed to.

"I will," I promised. My heart didn't just skip, it stumbled, fell, and forgot how to beat entirely.

"Here's Whisper's number, if you want to call me." She pressed a slip of paper into my palm. "Until I get a new phone, that is. Mine's currently exploring the ocean floor."

I huffed. Seeing her plane wreck under the waves seemed like weeks ago.

"Thanks." As I let go of her hand, the truth hit me like a thunderbolt.I’m falling for her. Not in the slow, gentle way; this was a landslide, fast and unstoppable. Like the world's axis had shifted, and she was my new gravity. "My brothers have my number when you want to reach me."

I cupped her cheek, and she melted into my touch like she belonged there.

"Get some rest," I whispered, fighting the urge to kiss her. Her lips parted like she was begging me to do exactly that, and my heart pounded harder.

“Hey, guys,” Whitney called from behind us, killing the moment. “There’s something I forgot to mention.”

His gaze swept across the room before locking onto me, his expression hardening.

“Beatrice killed Cooper without hesitation.” His grim tone bled into his darkening eyes. “No flinching. No remorse. Just bang, bang. Like killing him meant nothing.”

The weight of his words dropped like a stone. We wouldn’t be safe until Beatrice was dead. Until then, she wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

Tory reached for my hand again, and her fingers intertwined with mine, making me feel all kinds of crazy.

I didn’t want to pull away. But I had to. Blade and Viper needed me.

She rose up on her toes and kissed me. Just a brief brush of her lips, but her kiss seared into me like a brand. “You come back to me, Jaxson,” she whispered, easing her hand free. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I will. I promise.” Turning away from her was like tearing something vital out of my chest.

As I walked toward the chopper, my heart was still with her, but my thoughts were on Blade and Viper and the impossible task of finding them alive.

CHAPTER 26

Jaxson

The sun hammeredthe ocean beyond the wharf, the glare slicing into my eyes as I tightened my grip on Onyx’s lead. I wished for my sunglasses, but even they wouldn’t have dulled the relentless heat or the blinding brightness attacking me. The demolished warehouse ahead loomed like a skeletal graveyard, more chaotic and more shattered than I’d prepared myself for. Beatrice must have used a mountain of C4 to wreak this kind of havoc. Some beams, fifty inches thick, had snapped clean in two like brittle matchsticks.

“Onyx, search.” I fought to steady my voice, forcing every ounce of desperation out of it. K9 commands needed to be calm, deliberate, and unshakable. Onyx couldn’t afford to hear my stress. She needed confidence, control, and clarity.

My emotions had no place here.

Her ears twitched, and her nose dropped to the ground, sniffing the mangled tangle of timber and tin with a precision only she could manage. Her movements were purposeful, sweeping side to side as she sniffed every crevice. She was born for the role: muscles taut, tail low, completely locked in.

Captain Watts had cleared all other personnel from the demolition zone, ensuring that any sound Onyx heard would come from inside the debris.

It was just us now. The weight of that responsibility pressed down on me. Behind me, a crowd was gathered at the barrier, their silent prayers and pleading eyes drilling into my back like a battering ram.

When I’d first arrived at the wharf, Zena had gripped my hand so hard it had nearly stopped my circulation. Her voice cracked as she’d begged, “Find Blade. Please.” Beside her, Harper had stood frozen, her chin trembling, her eyes watery and wide. She didn’t say a word, but the way she looked at me, like I was their last hope of finding Viper, had cut me deeper than any explosion ever could.

Forty-three hours.

That was how long it had been since the blast. I couldn’t stop myself from doing the math, no matter how much I tried. Forty-three hours of smoke, water, and wreckage. Forty-three hours of crushed steel and splintered wood. Forty-three hours with no food, no fresh water, and no guarantees. The numbers sat heavily in my chest, ticking down like a clock I couldn’t ignore.

The chances of finding them alive weren’t good. I knew it. Deep down, everyone knew it.

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