Boone muttered, “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” and grabbed his gear.
But my eyes stayed on her, heart pounding with something I didn’t want to name.
Because this wasn’t just a mission anymore.
It was war.
And if Raine got caught in the crossfire, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
14
Raine
The SUV smelled like damp canvas and leather—military efficient, no comfort. Rain streaked the windows as headlights carved narrow tunnels through the night.
Adam drove like he did everything—controlled, deliberate, one hand steady on the wheel. His jaw was tight, eyes locked on the road ahead, but I could feel the tension radiating off him, thick enough to choke on.
Silence filled the cab, except for the crackle of the radio. Boone’s voice came through every few minutes with useless updates, filling space Adam refused to.
I couldn’t stand it.
“You don’t have to babysit me.” My voice cut through the quiet, sharper than I meant.
His grip tightened on the wheel. “It’s not babysitting. It’s survival.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Funny. I managed to survive just fine before you showed up.”
His eyes flicked toward me, just for a second, and that was enough. The weight of his gaze landed like a punch—steady, unyielding, the same look that once made me melt.
“You call that fine?” he asked, voice low. “Charging into collapsing houses? Cutting glass with your bare hands? You’re one step away from a coffin, Raine.”
My chest tightened, anger and something more dangerous tangled together. “At least I don’t run. At least I don’t disappear when things get hard.”
His jaw clenched. The tires hummed against the wet road, carrying us through the dark while the silence stretched razor-thin.
Finally, he spoke, each word rough. “You think leaving was easy? You think I didn’t want—” He stopped, shaking his head as if he’d said too much. “Forget it. But know this, I had my orders. When I returned from overseas, you were gone. You are the one who left.”
I turned toward him, heat rising in my throat. “No. Say how you feel.”
His knuckles whitened on the wheel. His voice came out barely above a growl. “I wanted you, Raine. Every damn day. And it almost killed me when you walked away.”
The words hung heavy in the air, raw and jagged, louder than the storm outside.
I opened my mouth—ready to fight, ready to confess, I didn’t even know which—when the radio crackled to life.
“Movement on River Road,”Russ’s calm voice reported.“Two vans. No plates.”
Adam’s foot pressed harder on the gas. The SUV surged forward, engine growling. His eyes flicked to mine once more, steady and grim.
“Hold that thought,” he said.
And just like that, the storm between us had to wait.
Because the real storm was waiting up ahead.
15
Adam
