Page 28 of Carter
River’s eyes lifted, sharp. “Carter—”
“I said she stays with me.” My tone left no room for argument.
Gideon leaned back, studying me. “This isn’t just about protection anymore, is it?”
I clenched my jaw. He didn’t deserve an answer, but the truth was etched across my face anyway.
No, this wasn’t just about protection. It was about love.
When Harper’s eyes met mine across the room, something in my chest tightened. She wasn’t asking for distance. She wasn’t even asking for safety. She was asking for honesty—for me to let her stand beside me in this storm.
And damn me, but I didn’t know if I could.
Every instinct screamed to shield her, to lock her in my arms and never let go. But if I boxed her in, if I made choices for her, I’d lose her trust—and without that, I’d already lost the only thing that mattered.
I dragged a hand over my face, forcing myself to breathe. “We’ll move when you say, River,” I muttered. “But wherever we go, she doesn’t leave my sight. Not for a second.”
River studied me for a long beat, then gave a short nod. “Fair enough.”
The meeting rolled on, voices sharp with strategy, but all I could focus on was the woman on my couch. Harper. Mine. The war was coming, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t just fear the enemy.
I feared myself—because the deeper I fell for her, the more dangerous I became.
36
Harper
The table was covered in papers and phones, but it might as well have been covered in knives for the way Carter bristled. Every name, every number, every whispered detail felt like a blade angled toward me.
I stayed wrapped in the blanket, but I wasn’t invisible. I caught every word.Compromised. Network. Leverage.Words that carried weight enough to crush me if I let them.
What scared me wasn’t the intel—it was Carter. The tension rolling off him in waves, the way his voice turned sharp when River suggested a safe house, the near desperation in his eyes when he said, 'I stayed with him.'
Part of me wanted to curl up tighter, let him fight this battle on his own. He was a soldier, a wall of iron and fire. I was just… me.
But another part—the louder, fiercer part—refused to shrink.
Because this wasn’t just about Carter fighting for me. It was about me standing with him.
When River and Gideon finally left, the apartment fell into silence except for the hum of the fridge and the fainttick of the clock on the wall. Carter lingered by the table, arms braced, head bowed like the weight of the world was pressing him down.
I slipped from the couch and crossed to him, bare feet silent against the floor. My fingers brushed his arm, tentative, before I spoke. “You can’t keep all of this locked inside.”
He lifted his head, eyes shadowed, jaw tight. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“I know.” My throat tightened, but I held his gaze. “But if you lock me out, you’re not protecting me—you’re breaking me. I need to know what’s coming, Carter. I need to fight this with you.”
For a long moment, he just stared, as if he were seeing me for the first time. Then his hand came up, covering mine where it rested on his arm. His grip was warm, steady, but there was a tremor in it too.
“You don’t know what that means, Harper,” he said roughly.
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling but clear. “I do. It means I choose you. No matter what storm is coming, I’m not letting you carry it alone.”
His breath caught, his thumb tracing over my knuckles like he was memorizing them. And for the first time since the warehouse, I saw the soldier’s armor crack—not with fury, but with something achingly tender.
Maybe I was marked. Maybe the danger was circling closer. But I wasn’t the terrified woman in chains anymore. Not with Carter.
Because if he was willing to fight for me, then I damn well was going to fight for him too.
