Page 83 of Rogue Hope
“Don’t listen to him, Z!” Finn’s voice cracked through the comm, raw and urgent. “Whatever he’s offering, it’s not worth?—”
The transmission cut with a sharp click.
Zara closed her eyes, heart hammering.Lord, I need You now. Protect Finn. Give me wisdom. Show me the path.
A strange calm washed over her, cool and clarifying. Finn’s words from earlier echoed.He needs us both alive. Whatever his endgame, he can’t afford to lose either of us yet.
Her eyes snapped open, mind crystal clear. What Harrison needed didn’t matter.
Together, they stood a chance. Separated, they were vulnerable.
“I’m losing patience.” Harrison’s voice hardened. “Next time they won’t pull the punch.”
“Fine,” she conceded, lowering her weapon slowly. “You win. Just ... don’t hurt him anymore.”
“Smart girl. Always were.”
She hurried across the upper level, to the top of the stairs leading to the first floor. Harrison stood at the base of the steps, immaculate in his golf shirt and pleated slacks, looking for all the world like he was headed to a budget meeting rather than committing treason. Only the pistol in his hand shattered the illusion.
He gestured with the weapon.
Zara gripped the railing, descending slowly, holding his gaze with undisguised contempt. “Enjoy this. It’s your last taste of freedom.”
“Doubtful. Your team’s chasing wild geese at an empty mine. Backup’s hours out. And you”—his eyes swept over her clinically as she reached the bottom of the stairs—“you’re in no condition to fight back, are you?”
She forced herself to keep moving.
“You’ve been feeling it, haven’t you?” he continued conversationally. “The flares getting worse? Meds not quite cutting it anymore? Body giving out at the worst possible moments?”
A chill crawled up her spine.
“That’s all me,” he said with casual pride. “Been tweaking your meds for months now. Those special supplements Minerva Knight’s been so helpfully delivering? The prescription ‘adjustments’ from your pharmacist?” His smile never reached his eyes. “Just enough to keep you functional but compromised. Just enough to cloud that sharp mind when I needed it foggy.”
The revelation hit like a physical blow, the pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. The increasingly severe flares. Medications that barely touched the pain. The mental fog during critical decisions.
White-hot rage burned through the shock.
“You were always special, Zara. My star. But I needed you weakened. Dependent. Makes what comes next so much simpler.”
“Whatever sick game you’re playing,” she said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, “it won’t work. You might have controlled my meds, but you will never control my heart. Or my faith.”
Something flickered across his craggy face—irritation, perhaps, or grudging respect. “We’ll see.”
He motioned her toward the workout area, where Finn waited, his eyes instantly finding hers. In that brief connection, Zara felt a surge of resolve.
Harrison had manipulated her body, but he’d underestimated her spirit. That would be his downfall.
45
Finn’s wristsburned against the restraints, but that was nothing compared to the rage searing through him as Reynolds marched Zara across the vast hangar to the workout area.
Their eyes locked across the room. Despite everything—the danger, her obvious pain, the betrayal of her mentor—he saw nothing but steel in her gaze. His admiration for her resilience burned even brighter.
Reynolds adjusted his pleats, every inch the polished intelligence veteran. Only the cold calculation in his eyes betrayed the monster beneath the swanky clothes. “Comfortable, Novak?”
“Five-star accommodations,” Finn shot back, testing his restraints again. Solid. Professional. Unbreakable. “Though your hospitality could use some serious work.”
Reynolds smiled thinly. “Always the jokester.” He gestured to the Vanguard operative standing guard. “Give Ms. Khoury a chair. She’s had a difficult day.”
