Page 25 of Ranger's Secret

"Good," I tell her, my hand stroking through her hair. "That should wash the guilt away. You didn't choose this, remember? I took control. I made the decisions."

She pulls back to look at me, and there's something sharp in her eyes despite her exhaustion. "What we just did… it’s fucked up, Jagger. You know that."

The criticism stings because she's not wrong.

"Maybe it is," I admit. "But I'm not sorry it happened."

She stares at me for a moment, then shakes her head.

"Let me take care of you tonight," I tell her, meaning it. "Let me just... be here for you."

Something in my tone must reach her because she nods, settling back against my chest. I hold her for a while, listening to her breathing even out, feeling the tension slowly leave her body.

After a few minutes, I shift her gently. "I’ll help you get dressed. Then we'll go back to the outpost."

I find her clothes scattered around us and help her into them, my hands gentle now. She's still shaky, still processing what just happened between us, and I want to take care of her properly.

The walk back to the outpost is quiet, my arm around her waist to steady her. Once inside, I guide her to the old wooden chair and dig into the pack I'd left here earlier.

"I brought you something," I tell her, pulling out a small bag of Sour Patch Kids.

Her eyes widen in surprise. "For me?"

"Remember move-in day at college? You had a bag of these in your hand when you opened Maya's door. Said they were your survival food." I shake a few into my palm and offer them to her. "Figured you might need some survival food tonight."

She takes them, and I see her throat work as she swallows hard. "You remembered that?"

"I remember everything about that day." I hand her a water bottle and settle on the floor beside her chair.

She eats the candy slowly, and I can see some color returning to her cheeks.

"I owe you an apology," I tell her finally. "For the way I've been treating you here. For threatening your career. That was fucked up, and I'm sorry."

She looks down at me. "Why did you do it?"

"Because you get under my skin in ways I don't know how to handle. Because watching you try so hard to pretend you don't want this was driving me crazy." I lean my head back against the wall. "That's not an excuse. It's just the truth. You make me lose my mind, kitten."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"No, it doesn't." I meet her eyes. "I was wrong. You deserved better than games and threats. You deserved honesty."

She's quiet for a long moment, turning the candy over in her palm. "So what is this? Honestly?"

"This is me telling you I love you. That I've loved you for years and I'm tired of pretending I don't." I reach up to touch her hand. "You have a week left here. Let me show you how I feel. If you still think it's a bad idea when the program ends, it's over. I won't bother you again."

Her breath catches. "Jagger..."

"One week, kitten. Let me prove to you that this is real. That it's worth the risk."

She stares down at me for what feels like forever, war playing out across her features.

Finally, she nods. "One week."

The relief that floods through me is overwhelming. One week to show her that what we have is worth fighting for. One week to convince her that we can make this work.

One week to make her mine for good.

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