Page 27 of Carter
Shock flickered across his face, quickly chased by something softer, almost reverent. “You’re not afraid?”
I managed a shaky smile. “Terrified. But not alone.”
And in his arms, with the storm raging just outside our door, I realized this was the truest thing I’d ever said.
34
Carter
Her words hit harder than a bullet.Then I guess we fight them.
She said it with a tremor in her voice, but her eyes… God, her eyes were steady. Fierce.
I wanted to lock her away from the world, build walls high enough that no shadow could touch her. But standing here, with her chin lifted and her fingers gripping my wrists like she was holding me up instead of the other way around, I knew the truth.
Harper wasn’t glass. She wasn’t something I could wrap in blankets and hide from the fire. She was standing in it with me—shaking, terrified, but unbroken.
And that scared me more than anything.
I pulled back just enough to look at her fully. The stubborn tilt of her jaw, the softness in her mouth, the fire behind her fear. My throat burned with words I didn’t know how to say.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I rasped.
“I know enough.”
Damn her. Damn her for being stronger than I wanted her to be.
I turned away, scrubbing a hand over my face. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind wouldn’t stop running scenarios—her caught in crossfire, her name on a target list, her eyes going cold. The images gutted me.
I’d spent my career standing between people and the worst kind of monsters. I could handle the bullets, the blood, the nightmares. But this? This was different. This was her.
And loving her meant I couldn’t separate my heart from the mission.
I leaned my hands against the counter, head bowed. “If you’re in this, Harper, there’s no going back. They’ll come harder. Dirtier. And I—” My voice broke. I forced it steady. “I can’t lose you.”
Silence. Then her hand slid across my back, warm and steady, anchoring me.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “Not if we stand together.”
For a man who lived by control, by precision and planning, those words undid me. Because standing together meant I had to loosen my grip, let her step into the fight at my side.
And I wasn’t sure I knew how to do that without breaking apart.
35
Carter
River and Gideon spread intel across my kitchen table like it was a war map, phones buzzing with updates from Faron. Names, locations, burner numbers—they painted a picture I didn’t like. This wasn’t just a one-off job. It was a network. Organized. Patient. And Harper’s name was right there in the middle of it.
She sat at the far end of the couch, legs drawn up under her, blanket wrapped tight. She looked small, fragile. But her gaze never wavered from the table. She was listening to every word.
And it was killing me.
“Safe houses are compromised,” River said, voice clipped. “Whoever’s funding this has reach. We need to relocate her somewhere off-grid.”
My gut twisted. Off-grid meant separating her from me, even if just for a mission window. Not happening.
“She stays with me,” I snapped.
