Page 41 of When We Collide

Quietly, I observe Jeyla's graceful movements as she slips out of bed, the sheets falling in her wake like a gentle waterfall. Every time I see the darkening bruise across the smooth of her lower back where she was assailed by Lukin’s cronies my blood boils. In the light of the early morning the bruises, scrapes and cuts seem darker and prominent.

She gathers my t-shirt and drapes it over her body, the material barely reaching her knees. With soft footsteps, she glides over to the window, her silhouette highlighted by the sun’s golden glow. I draw in a deep breath and exhale. The room feels like a tangled web of emotions between us. Uncertainty and confusion linger like a bad stench in the air. Yet amidst all this chaos, one thing remains crystal clear—we’re still fiercely and hopelessly in love with each other.

I’m just scared that like Ash said, our love isn’t going to be enough to save us this time.

After everything she's suffered, it's no surprise that Jeyla's faith in me has been shaken. And I hate myself for it. I can see it inher eyes, the way she looks at me with uncertainty and fear. I can hear it in the timbre of her voice when she speaks, the way it trembles and wavers. She's built up an impenetrable wall, trying her damned hardest to keep me out so she doesn't get hurt again.

I can't blame her. I've let her down in the worst way possible. I vowed to protect her, to love her, to be there for her no matter what. And I failed. It was out of my control, but I failed her, nonetheless.

Now, she's rightfully distant and guarded, and I can't blame her for it. I can feel the weight of her defensiveness, like a physical barrier between us, as she struggles to hold back her emotions and protect her heart from being broken again. Just as I have no might when it comes to her, she has no control when it comes to me, so we keep falling into the same old habits again and again.

I've shattered her trust one too many times, but this time it's going to take a lot to earn it back… if I get the chance that is.

She’s riddled with guilt over us sleeping together yetagain.I can practically hear her mind reeling from all the way across the room. I know Jeyla well enough to sense her internal struggle, she’s torn between her worries for our son’s safety and not wanting to sacrifice what little time we may have left together.

The green light for the operation is imminent, it can come at any moment and once it does, we’ll only have a matter of a couple of hours to gear up and move out. That's why I can’t afford to waste even a single moment with her... because deep down, I know that my gut feeling is right. There is a very high chance I might not make it back from this operation alive. My stomach churns with unease while I struggle to push aside the dark thoughts and focus on Jeyla.

With a sigh I slip out of bed and pull my boxers on before I move over to her. I sidle up behind her and wrap my arm around her waist, gently drawing her back into my chest. I hear her sigh and her head falls back against my chest. My lips find the dip of her collarbone and I press a lingering kiss there and draw in a deep breath, sucking in the scent of her till my lungs are full of it. “You should be sleeping,” I speak softly in her ear and feel her shoulder lift in a shrug.

“I can’t sleep. Not while DJ is out there.” As she speaks, her eyes focus on the window, where a sleek Shadow R1 was seen racing down the runway and taking off into the early morning sky. The rumble of its engines echoes in the stillness of the room. Her mind clearly consumed with thoughts of our son. She turns to me, before asking anxiously, “How much longer until we receive news about the mission?”

“Shouldn’t be much longer.” My eyes lift and watch the jets tail quickly vanish out of sight. “It's a complex operation, so they're likely going through every detail with a fine-tooth comb before we can even think about moving out.” My hands move to her shoulders, and I knead her tense muscles slowly hoping to relax her.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind. I just want him back, Dean.” Jeyla laments, her voice breaking. She looks down and pulls my shirt away from her body and stares down at the small round stains of what I’m assuming is milk that’s seeping from her breasts. “It’s his feeding time right now. I should be feeding him, Dean. DJ can’t drink formula, it upsets his stomach. God, I can already hear him screaming with hunger. He’s probably starving.” She weeps woefully into my chest.

My heart twists terribly in my chest as I twirl her around and bring her close against my chest. “Hey, look at me,” I tip herhead up to meet my eyes. “Babies are incredibly resilient,” I reassure her, my voice soft yet firm. “And our son is a fighter just like his mother. Think about what he’s already overcome. Try and focus on the fact that he's well. And he will be back in your loving arms very soon, I promise.” I brush a strand of hair away from her tear-stained face and caress her bruised cheek softly with my thumb. “I need you to just hold on a little longer, my love.”

The weight of the situation rests heavily on her delicate shoulders, but I know Jeyla has the resilience to bear it. After all, she is not just the love of my life, she is also an unstoppable force of love and strength. Which is why I fell out of my arse in love with her.

“I’m scared, Dean,” Jeyla whimpers. “I’m so terrified something horrible is going to happen to him or you.” She states, lifting her hand and pressing it against her chest. “I have this horrible feeling in my chest, and I can’t shake it.”

I shake my head and press a kiss to her forehead, my arms tightening around her waist. “I know, baby, I know, but I swear to you nothing is going to happen to him. I won’t let it.”

A fresh batch of tears fill her beautiful green eyes. “You can’t make the same promise about yourself though.”

Despite her tears and fears, she looks up at me with such conviction and love in her eyes that I can feel it fuelling me with strength. There isn’t an ounce of fear of what may or may not happen to me so long as I know Jeyla and DJ are both safe. I’ll walk through the fiery gates of hell with a grin on my face. What I fear the most is what I’m leaving behind.

Suddenly an alarm tears through the quiet of the room, a shrill, unrelenting sound that sends my heart into overdrive. I recognise the sound immediately. The klaxon pierces the air, a deafening siren that immediately triggers my training. It blares again—no mistaking it, this is a scramble. “Scramble!” someone shouts from down the corridor, their voice barely audible over the blaring alarm.

“What is that?” Jeyla yells, her hands flying up to cover her ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. It could either be a drill or a real threat—an aircraft has entered our airspace and we need to intercept it.

Without hesitation, I pull away from Jeyla and rush over to the door, flinging it open to see one of our ground team members about to knock. “Matthews?”

“Captain.” He greets me with a quick salute. “I apologize for disturbing you so early, sir, but...” I already know what he’s going to say. “You’ve been called for a scramble.”

“Is it a drill?” Matthews shakes his head.

“No sir, air control has detected an unidentified aircraft heading northwest directly into our airspace.”

“Who is supposed to be on the QRA rota?” I ask urgently as I grab my flight gear out of the wardrobe. My mind races as I hurry to put on my flight suit, knowing that time is of the essence. Matthews shifts anxiously from foot to foot while waiting for me in the doorway. “Malik and Killian were on duty, but Killian suffered an ankle injury and is unable to fly sir.” I nod as I finish suiting up and grab my equipment. “Typhoon three is fuelled and ready for you.” The urgency in his tone matches the gravity of the situation.

Jeyla walks gracefully over to me as I sit on the edge of the bed, hastily pulling on my boots and lacing them up. Her voice is filled with concern as she asks, “Dean? What's going on?”

Upon hearing the concern in Jeyla’s voice I glance up at her, trying my hardest to hide the urgency in my movements so I don’t frighten her. “I don't have time to explain,” I say quickly. “But I need to go intercept an aircraft. Just stay here for now, okay baby girl? I'll be back soon.”

As I finish tying my boots, I see the worry in her eyes reflecting my own. “Don't worry,” I assure her. “This happens from time to time. It's probably just an aircraft that’s lost communication. I'll be back in thirty minutes tops.”

Without waiting for a response, I rush out of the bunker and down the long corridor towards the hangars where my jet is kept. The sound of boots pounding on the concrete echoes in the hallway. The ground crew is already at the Typhoon, their movements practiced and precise as always. The canopy is open, ladder in place. I take the steps two at a time and slide into the cockpit, feeling the familiar contours of the ejection seat against my back. “Pre- flight checks done?”

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