Page 49 of Carter
71
Harper
When Carter said“Together,”it wasn’t just a word. It was a door opening.
For so long I’d been on the outside of his world, tucked into shadows while he fought battles with blood and steel. And I’d told myself that was love—letting him carry it, letting myself be protected. But now, standing here with my hand locked in his, I understood something truer.
Love wasn’t hiding. Love was standing in the fire, side by side.
River shifted the map toward me without hesitation, like I’d always had a seat at the table. Gideon gave a short nod, not dismissive, not pitying—respectful. Even Cyclone, rough as he was, muttered, “Guess we’re five strong now.”
It should’ve terrified me. And in a way, it did. My stomach twisted, my chest tight, because this wasn’t a game. My name was still out there, painted on lists I hadn’t asked for, hunted by men I’d never seen.
But when I looked at Carter, the fear didn’t own me. His eyes—storm-dark, unyielding—were steady on mine, asthough every word they spoke around this table was anchored to the vow he’d made: I wouldn’t face this alone.
I pulled in a shaky breath and slid my hand from his to rest on the map. “If my name is the reason this war is burning, then I’m not going to pretend it isn’t. I need to know what’s next. All of it.”
The room went quiet for a beat, waiting for Carter.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to soften it. He just inclined his head, voice rough but sure. “Then you’ll hear everything. No filters.”
A mix of pride and fear twisted inside me. This was what I’d wanted, but now that it was here, the weight of it pressed heavy on my chest.
Still—I didn’t look away.
Because if I was marked, if the world was hunting me, then I’d meet it head-on.
Not just with Carter shielding me. With Carterbesideme.
72
Carter
The map spread out between us was more than lines and coordinates—it was the battlefield that stood between Harper and the life she deserved.
I’d studied a thousand maps in my career, each one just another mission, another objective. But this one felt different. Because every red circle, every route, every risk—it all traced back to her.
River pointed to a cluster of marks near the docks. “With Graves down, the network will shift fast. Someone steps in to fill the gap. If we move now, we can catch them mid-transition, before the money moves.”
“Intel?” I asked.
“Partial,” Gideon admitted, fingers flying over his laptop. “But it’s enough to confirm chatter about a new hub. South end. Old warehouses, same shell companies Graves used.”
I leaned in, studying the layout. Multiple entry points. High vantage on the north side. Too many blind corners.
“Too open,” I muttered. “We’ll need to split.”
Cyclone grunted. “Risky. But doable.”
As the conversation rolled, I felt Harper’s hand brushagainst mine where it rested on the table. Not clinging. Not trembling. Just there. Steady.
I didn’t look at her, but the touch anchored me. It reminded me that this wasn’t just another op. This was personal.
River’s eyes flicked to me. “You’re thinking about more than the mission.”
“Damn right I am,” I said flatly. “We hit them fast, we hit them clean, and then we burn the rest of the trail. I don’t care who’s in line to replace Graves—they don’t get the chance.”
Silence hung heavy for a moment, then River nodded once. “Understood.”
