Page 86 of Duty Compromised
I responded very briefly, not giving away any details about anything important. I wanted to, but knew I couldn’t until after the auction tomorrow, just in case this was being monitored in some way. I promised Darcy I’d fill her in on everything as soon as I could.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s what matters. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thank you,” I responded. “I should be back soon.”
I hoped.
“Good. Alex has been acting completely paranoid since George Mercer came by and told us the news. He’s been reviewing security footage obsessively, won’t leave his office, sleeps there most nights. Makes encrypted calls at weird hours. Everyone’s worried about him.”
I read that twice, my mind cataloguing the behavior. Alex, paranoid. Alex, reviewing footage. Alex, making encrypted calls.
Another message: “Everyone at the lab is devastated. They are going to be so excited to hear this was all a mistake!”
“Darcy, you can’t tell anyone. Promise me. It will be too dangerous for us.”
“I won’t. Promise. And…us? Please tell me tall, dark, and brooding is keeping you safe.”
Heat crept up my neck. Even through encrypted text, Darcy could read me too well.
“Yes, he’s with me. He’s… Yes. He’s keeping me safe.”
“Charlotte Louise Gifford, are you BLUSHING right now? Through TEXT? Oh my God, did something happen? Did you finally notice that man looks at you like you hung the moon?”
My fingers froze over the keyboard. Did he? I thought about the way Ty had held me last night, the night we’d spent together in that motel that I desperately wanted to repeat, the way he kept positioning himself between me and any potential threat without even thinking about it.
“I think I’m falling in love with him.”
The words were typed before I could stop them, transmitted through encrypted channels to the one person who’d understand what a monumentally terrifying admission that was for me. Charlotte Gifford, who’d approached losing her virginity like a lab experiment, who’d never let anyone close enough to matter, was falling in love in the middle of running for her life.
Darcy’s response was immediate and perfect. “Finally! FINALLY! Forget saving the world—you actually noticed a hot guy exists! And not just any hot guy, the one who’s been staring at you like a love-sick puppy since day one. This is the best news I’ve gotten all week, which admittedly is a low bar since we thought you were dead, but still!”
Despite everything, I laughed quietly. I’d forgotten what that felt like.
“I have to go,” I typed. “Stay safe. Don’t trust anyone right now, especially not Alex. And, Darcy? Thank you. For believing the explosion story was wrong.”
“I know you, Charlotte. You’re too stubborn to die. Plus, you’d never leave a project unfinished. Love you, you brilliant disaster. Come back to us.”
I closed the chat window, wiping at my eyes. No time for tears. The stabilizer code window expanded back to full screen, every line of code a testament to what we were fighting for. The final calibration was complete—quantum entanglement protocols aligned, frequency modulation perfect, deployment pathways verified.
It was ready. We were ready.
I saved the final version three times—local drive, encrypted backup, and a hidden partition I’d created just in case. Then I stood, muscles protesting after hours in the uncomfortable chair. My back cracked as I stretched, arms reaching overhead, working out the kinks from hunching over the laptop.
I walked into the living room, stopping just inside the frame, watching the scene in front of me.
All the men in the room moved with absolute confidence, checking weapons with the kind of practiced efficiency that came from years of muscle memory, but it was Ty I couldn’t stop watching. He picked up an assault rifle from the table, cleared it, examined the magazine, tested the weight and balance, all while maintaining a conversation with Logan about overlapping fields of fire. His movements were economical, precise, deadly.
This was part of who he really was. Not just the charming security contractor who’d brought me lunch and made me laugh. Not just the first one with a witty line. Not just the man who’d shown me what passion could really be.
Ty Hughes was lethal.
The same hands that had held me while I cried could field-strip a weapon in seconds. The same person who had found ways to make me eat when stress killed my appetite was now the tactical mind planning tomorrow’s operation.
God help me, I was definitely falling in love with Tyler Hughes.
He looked up then, catching sight of me in the doorway. Without breaking his conversation with the guys about overwatch positions, he reached out a hand toward me. The gesture was so natural, so unconsciously claiming, that my feet moved before my brain caught up.
I crossed to him, and his arm came around me automatically, pulling me against his side while he continued discussing tactical details. The weight of his arm was comforting, grounding. I fit against him like I’d been designed for that exact space, and maybe in some cosmic way, I had been.
