Page 26 of Carter
The couch was unfamiliar, the morning light cutting sharp across the blinds, and Carter wasn’t beside me.
I sat up quickly, heart thudding until I spotted him by the door. His body was tense, his head bent close to River’s and Gideon’s. They spoke in low voices, clipped and serious, and though I couldn’t hear every word, I knew enough.
This wasn’t over.
Carter must’ve felt me watching because he turned. For a moment, his face softened, his eyes warming like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. But just as quickly, the steelcame back, the mask sliding into place before he opened the door wider and stepped inside.
“You’re awake,” he said gently, but the rasp in his voice told me he hadn’t slept. Not at all.
I swallowed hard. “You were watching over me all night, weren’t you?”
He didn’t deny it. Just crouched in front of me again, his hand brushing mine as if to reassure himself I was really there. “I wasn’t going to let you wake up alone.”
The ache in my chest nearly split me open. “Carter… you can’t carry this all by yourself.”
His jaw flexed, but his eyes—those fierce, tortured eyes—burned into mine. “I don’t know how to do anything else when it comes to you.”
I wanted to argue. To demand answers about what River and Gideon had told him, because I could see the shadows clinging to his shoulders. But the truth was, I was afraid. Afraid of the answer. Afraid of the storm that was still out there waiting for us.
So instead, I curled my fingers into his, anchoring us both. “Then don’t push me out. If we’re in this, we’re in it together.”
For the first time since the warehouse, I saw something flicker through him—not just fury, but hope.
And even though the world outside these walls felt like it was closing in, in that moment, I let myself believe we could fight it. Side by side.
33
Harper
The coffee Carter set in front of me was strong enough to jolt the dead awake. My hands curled around the mug, grateful for the warmth, though I barely tasted the first sip. My attention kept drifting to the closed door where River and Gideon had disappeared, leaving Carter pacing like a caged animal.
I’d known him long enough to understand the signs—jaw tight, shoulders stiff, every line of his body wound to breaking. He wasn’t just worried. He was hiding something.
“They didn’t come here just to check on me,” I said finally, breaking the silence.
His back went rigid. He didn’t turn. “They wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Safe. The word should have been a comfort, but the way he said it felt like a lie. I set the mug down with a soft thud. “Carter, look at me.”
When he did, it was like staring into a storm. The man who had carried me out of hell, who had held me while I shook apart, was here in front of me—but part of him wasstill on that battlefield, already fighting enemies I couldn’t see.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked quietly.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. “You’ve been through enough. You don’t need the weight of this on your shoulders.”
My chest tightened. “Don’t you get it? The weight is already on my shoulders. I was there. I heard him.You’re marked now.Those words don’t just disappear because you don’t repeat them.”
His jaw clenched, muscles ticking in his cheek.
I stood, crossing to him before he could shut me out completely. “I can’t be the woman you protect and never trust. If this is going to work—ifwe’regoing to work—I need the truth.”
For a long moment, the only sound was the low hum of the fridge and my own pounding heart. Then his hands came up, cupping my face like I was the only steady thing in his world. His voice was rough when it came.
“They weren’t after just him, Harper. He was part of something bigger. And whoever’s pulling the strings? They still have your name.”
The room tilted, my stomach dropping like I’d stepped off a cliff. But underneath the fear was a spark of something fiercer—resolve.
“Then I guess we fight them,” I whispered, my fingers curling over his wrists.
