Page 25 of Carter
She stirred once, a faint whimper caught in her throat. My grip tightened around her. “I’ve got you, Harper,” Iwhispered, keeping my voice low and steady, like the rhythm of a heartbeat. “No one’s going to get through me to you. Ever.”
Her breathing evened out again, and I brushed my thumb across her knuckles, memorizing every detail of her hand in mine. Small. Strong. Terrified—and yet she trusted me enough to sleep here. That trust meant more than anything I’d earned on any battlefield.
I thought of the bastard’s words—She’s marked now—and a cold fury cut through me all over again. Let them try. Let them come. I’d burn the world to ash before I let anyone lay a hand on her again.
The night dragged on, hour after hour, me wide awake while Harper dreamed. She didn’t know it, but she was already under my skin, already in every part of me I thought I’d locked away.
And as dawn crept closer, painting the edges of the blinds in pale light, I realized the truth I hadn’t dared admit until now.
This wasn’t just about protecting her.
This was about loving her. The love I felt for Harper was nothing like I felt for Brenda. I thought I loved her, but I didn’t. All I could think was thank God I walked in on them when I did.
31
Carter
The first streaks of daylight cut through the blinds, turning the room into stripes of gray and gold. Harper was still asleep, her breaths slow, steady. I hadn’t moved all night, afraid that if I so much as shifted, the fragile peace wrapped around her would break.
My back ached from the floor, my eyes burned from lack of sleep, but I wouldn’t have traded this vigil for anything. Watching her chest rise and fall was the only proof I needed that last night hadn’t stolen her from me.
A knock rattled the door—three sharp raps. My hand went to the sidearm at my hip before I even stood. Harper stirred, murmuring something soft, but didn’t wake.
I eased her hand free from mine and crossed to the door, silent as a shadow. Through the peephole, River’s broad frame filled the hallway, Gideon behind him. Both looked like hell, streaked with soot and bone-deep exhaustion, but their eyes were sharp.
I cracked the door and stepped into the hall, pulling it shut behind me. “She’s asleep,” I said quietly.
River’s gaze flicked to the door. “Good. She needs rest.”His tone was steady, but there was something underneath it—grim, heavy. “We’ve got news.”
Gideon folded his arms. “The boss isn’t talking, but his phone was full of messages. She was never the endgame, Carter. Just a piece of leverage. Whoever’s behind him has bigger plans—and Harper’s still in their sights.”
The words hit like a fist. I felt my jaw tighten, every muscle in me coiling. “Then we end it before they get close.”
River studied me. “You’re not thinking straight. You haven’t slept, and you’re too close—”
“Too close?” My voice was a low growl. “She was chained in that hellhole because of them. She’s not a damn target. She’s mine.”
The silence that followed was thick, but I didn’t back down. Couldn’t.
Finally, River’s expression softened, just a fraction. “Then we move fast. But you can’t do this alone.”
I glanced back at the closed door, at the woman sleeping on the other side. For her, I’d fight an army. But he was right—I couldn’t be everywhere at once.
“Fine,” I ground out. “We do it together. But understand this—if anyone comes for her again, I won’t just let them go. I’ll bury them.”
River nodded once, grim approval in his eyes. “Then we’d better be ready.”
And just like that, the war I thought ended last night was starting all over again.
32
Harper
The first thing I felt when I woke was warmth. Not fear, not cold concrete, not the weight of chains. Just the heavy cocoon of a blanket and the faint scent of soap and leather that clung to Carter.
For a blissful second, I let myself pretend. Pretend that the night before had been nothing more than a nightmare. Pretend I wasn’t marked by men who saw me as leverage. Pretend I wasn’t shaking apart inside.
Then I opened my eyes.
