Page 97 of Rogue Hope
The stubborn edge in his voice made her smile despite herself. Some things hadn’t changed. “The doctors said?—”
“I know what they said.” His expression softened. “But some conversations should be had standing.”
For a long moment, she simply looked at him. The man who had once destroyed her stood before her, vulnerable and open in a way she’d never been before. Pale from blood loss, thinner than before, yet somehow more substantial. The courage that must have taken—both stepping between her and that bullet, and now laying his heart bare—stole her breath.
“You want to stay,” she said finally, her voice steadier than she felt. “Here. With Knight Tactical.”
“With you,” he corrected gently. “The job is secondary.”
“That’s a significant change of perspective for a man who’s spent his entire adult life avoiding attachments.”
Finn nodded, accepting the observation without defensiveness. “I’ve spent years convincing myself that roots were a liability in our line of work. That connections made you vulnerable.” His eyes met hers, unwavering. “I was wrong.”
The simple admission, delivered without qualification, struck deeper than any elaborate declaration could have. Zara felt something shift within her—a loosening of the protective barriers she’d maintained around her heart since his departure seven years ago.
“You hurt me,” she said quietly, the words not an accusation but a simple truth that needed acknowledgment.
“I know.” His voice was heavy with regret. “I can’t undo that, Zara. I can only promise to do better. To be better.”
She studied him, searching for any hint of the old Finn—the one who kept parts of himself walled off, who maintained escape routes, who vanished when emotions became too real. Instead, she found only openness, his defenses completely lowered.
“Why now?” she asked, genuinely curious. “What’s different?”
“I’ve spent my life running. From connections, from permanence ...” His voice softened. “From you. All that running, and I ended up right back where I started, except with a lot more regret.”
He stepped closer, the movement causing a barely perceptible wince that he quickly masked. “Working with you and the team—it felt right. Like finding something I didn’t know I was missing.” His expression grew more earnest. “I’m not the same man who left seven years ago, Zara. That man was afraid—of commitment, of vulnerability, of not being enough. I can’t promise I won’t still struggle with those fears, but I can promise I won’t run from them. Or from you.”
Zara felt a warmth spreading through her chest, a cautious hope she’d never expected to feel again. The sincerity in his eyes, the quiet conviction in his voice—this wasn’t the impulsive, guarded Finn she remembered. This was a man who had faced his demons and chosen to stay despite them. Who had proven with his blood what words could never convey.
“The team would be lucky to have your skills,” she said, taking a deliberate step toward him. “And I ...” She paused, her own vulnerability rising to match his. “I’d be grateful for the chance to discover who we are now. Together.”
The relief that washed over his face was so profound, so naked in its intensity, that Zara felt her own eyes growing suspiciously damp.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“To both questions,” she confirmed, a smile breaking through her composure. “Yes to joining the team. And yes to exploring what could be between us. Slowly,” she added with gentle firmness.
“I can do slow,” Finn replied, his own smile spreading, transforming his too-pale face with a joy so pure it took her breath away. “I’ve been told I’m exceptionally patient.”
Zara laughed, the sound surprising her with its lightness. “By whom, exactly? Because I have significant evidence to the contrary.”
“Fair point,” he conceded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But for you, I can learn.”
The sincerity beneath the playful words touched something deep within her, and without overthinking it, Zara closed the remaining distance between them. She reached out, her fingers lightly touching his, careful to avoid the IV bruises still evident on the back of his hand.
“Welcome to Knight Tactical, Finn Novak,” she said softly. “Try not to hack our systems too often.”
“No promises,” he replied, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. “But I’ll always make sure you can find me.”
The promise, simple but profound, settled into her heart with unexpected weight. This was real. This was happening. And for the first time in years, Zara allowed herself to fully embrace the hope blossoming between them.
The moment was interrupted by the office door bursting open, revealing Izzy, Kenji, and Axel crowded in the doorway, their expressions shifting rapidly from eager curiosity to exaggerated innocence.
“Oh! Sorry,” Izzy exclaimed, not sounding sorry at all. “We were just looking for ... um ...”
“The fire extinguisher,” Axel supplied helpfully. “Safety first.”
“Right,” Kenji agreed with mock seriousness. “Very important. Safety. Although,” he added, glancing pointedly at their still-linked hands, “it appears we’re too late for that.”
