My stomach dropped.
Adam appeared at the door, rifle slung, eyes sweeping the inside before landing on me. For a second, the hard edges softened. “You got them?”
“Yeah.” I tugged the last rope free, guiding the boy out. “But Adam… they weren’t just transporting. They were recruiting. Lying.”
His jaw flexed, the storm back in his expression. He didn’t answer, but I could see the truth in his eyes—he already knew.
Behind us, Russ and Boone dragged the unconscious masked men into a pile, zip-tying wrists. Hawk called in coordinates, his voice low and tight. Blade just stood near the treeline, watching, knife still in hand.
“Look at them.” I gestured to the survivors, to their bruised wrists and terror-stricken eyes. “This isn’t some rogue crew skimming supplies. This is organized. Coordinated. And if we don’t tear it out by the roots—”
“Raine.” Adam’s voice cut through mine, sharp but quiet. “Not here. Not now.”
My anger spiked. “When, then? How many more do they take before you admit this is bigger than all of us?”
His eyes locked on mine, steady and unflinching. “I’ve already admitted it. But if you keep throwing yourself into the fire, I won’t be able to pull you out every time.”
The words slammed into me, raw and unwanted. For a heartbeat, the chaos faded, leaving just the two of us standing in the rain, tethered by everything we hadn’t said.
Then Boone whistled low, breaking the spell. “Hate to ruin the moment, but we’ve got company inbound. Lights on the ridge.”
I looked up, heart seizing. More vans. More masked men.
Adam’s hand brushed mine as he stepped in front of me, weapon raised. “Stay close, Carter.”
And for once, I didn’t argue.
17
Adam
Headlights crested the ridge, beams cutting through the rain. Engines snarled, too many to count. Reinforcements.
“Boone, Russ—load the survivors. Get them out, now,” I barked.
Boone didn’t argue for once. He grabbed the boy first, scooping him into his arms, then waved the others toward Russ. They hustled to the Jeep, boots splashing through the mud, fear sharp in the air.
“Blade, Hawk—rear guard,” I snapped. “Slow them down. We need thirty seconds.”
Hawk was already moving, rifle up, muttering something under his breath like a prayer or a curse. Blade just nodded once, calm as ever, before vanishing into the treeline.
I turned to Raine. She stood beside me, drenched, jaw tight, rifle steady. Stubborn to the bone.
“You’re getting in that Jeep,” I said.
Her eyes flashed. “Like hell I am. I’m not leaving while you’re out here.”
I stepped closer, the roar of the engines closing in. “This isn’t a debate, Raine. You’ve got civilians to protect. Let me and my men handle the rest.”
For a heartbeat, she didn’t move. I could see the war in her eyes—every instinct screaming to fight, to stand shoulder to shoulder with us.
Then a bullet snapped past, close enough to sting my cheek with dirt.
I shoved her down behind the SUV, shielding her with my body. The night erupted in gunfire.
“Damn it, Raine!” My voice was raw in her ear. “If you stay, I’ll be watching you instead of the fight. And that’ll get us both killed.”
Her breath came fast, warm against my neck. She looked up at me, defiant even now. “Then stop watching me.”
