I kiss her with all the hunger I've been suppressing since I showed up in her yard. Since before that. Since I walked away thinking distance would keep her safe and instead spent every day of those eight years wanting her.
Her fingers trace the line of my spine, and I have to break the kiss to catch my breath. We're both panting, both trembling.
"I never stopped," I tell her, forehead pressed to hers, my voice barely recognizable. "I never stopped loving you. Not for a single day."
Rachel's eyes are bright when she looks at me. "Then stay. Not for the mission. Not to keep us safe. Stay because you want to. Because you choose this. Choose us."
Before I can answer, before I can promise her things I have no right to promise, my comm unit crackles to life.
"Stryker, Kane needs you in operations," Mercer's voice cuts through the moment like a blade. "We've got movement on Kessler's location. Committee surveillance van spotted near the airfield where we extracted Rachel and Lucas."
Rachel's entire body goes rigid when I set her down. "What happened?"
I key my comm. "On my way."
When I look back at Rachel, the moment is gone. The woman who was wrapped around me seconds ago is replaced by the mother calculating threats to her son, the survivor processing new danger.
"I need to go.” I tell her. “Kane’s waiting. Kessler's team was spotted near the airfield where we flew out of. They're following our trail, checking locations we used during the extraction."
She nods, understanding written across her face.
I force myself to step away, still tasting her on my lips, still feeling her body against mine.
Kessler's getting closer. The timeline for ending this just accelerated.
I head toward operations, but the truth I just admitted to Rachel echoes in my head with every step. I never stopped loving her. Not when I left. Not during the eight years away. Not now.
I'm choosing her. Choosing us. Whatever comes next, I'm not walking away again.
13
RACHEL
The team deployed hours ago.
Stryker kissed me once before gearing up, hard and fast and desperate, then disappeared into the operations center with Kane and the others. I heard the heavy equipment being checked, the terse commands as they loaded into vehicles, the engines starting.
Now there's nothing to do but wait.
I sit in the common area with Lucas curled against my side, his favorite book open on his lap though neither of us is reading. My coffee went cold long ago. The mug sits on the table in front of me, refilled twice and abandoned both times since Stryker and the team went to hunt the men hunting my son.
Waiting is worse than running ever was.
Lucas shifts closer, sensing my tension the way kids always do. "Is Mr. Stryker going to be okay?"
The question lodges in my throat. I want to lie, want to promise him everything will be fine, that the man who's become his hero will walk back through that door without a scratch. But I've lied to Lucas too many times already—lies about why we had to leave our house, lies about why we can't go back, lies about why bad men want to hurt him.
I'm done lying to my son.
"I don't know, baby." The honesty tastes bitter. "But he's very good at his job. And he's not alone out there."
Lucas nods, seemingly satisfied with this non-answer. He goes back to staring at the pages of his book without reading them. Waiting, like me, for someone to tell us it's over.
The common area feels too big and too small at the same time. Khalid sits in the corner with Odin's head in his lap, pretending to do homework but really just staring at the same page he's been on since the team deployed. Willa moves through the space like a ghost, supplies checked and organized in the medical bay, doing anything to keep her hands busy while Kane leads the strike team.
Sarah appears in the doorway, tablet in hand. Our eyes meet across the room and my chest tightens at her expression.
"Contact," she says simply.
