But then the shouts carried across the ridge. “Texas DPS! Hands where we can see them!”
Relief hit me like a blow. Real backup. Finally.
I staggered to my feet, mud sucking at my boots. My body screamed, but I forced myself upright. My men deserved to be seen standing.
Russ let out a slow exhale. Hawk barked a laugh that turned into a cough. Blade just wiped his knife on his sleeve and faded into the shadows, silent as ever.
I wiped the blood from my face with the back of my hand, jaw tight. “About damn time.”
But even as the troopers swarmed the ridge, floodlights sweeping the trees, my chest stayed heavy.
Because backup was late. Too late. And that meant someone wanted it that way.
And because through the rain, through the chaos, I still hadn’t seen her.
Raine.
My throat closed. My knees nearly buckled with the thought.
Then—her voice. Raw, desperate, cutting through the storm.
“Adam!”
I turned, and there she was—mud-smeared, dripping wet, limping but unbroken, fire in her eyes even through the tears.
Alive.
For the first time all night, I let myself breathe.
43
Raine
The ridge was a graveyard of mud and smoke. Floodlights cut sharp beams through the rain, throwing jagged shadows across broken trees and twisted metal. Troopers swarmed, voices barking orders, but all I saw was him.
Adam.
He stood in the wreckage, broad shoulders heaving, his face streaked with blood and rain. His team looked half-dead around him, but he was upright—barely.
Alive. I jumped from the back of the truck, and ran.
My legs gave out before I realized I was moving. I stumbled, then ran, boots sucking at the mud, ribs screaming with every step. “Adam!” My voice cracked, ripped raw, but I didn’t care.
His head snapped toward me. For a heartbeat, disbelief crossed his face. Then something deeper—something that made my chest ache. Relief.
I slammed into him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, clinging like I’d never let go again. The world tilted, the ground spinning, but his arms locked around me, iron strong, anchoring me against his chest.
“You’re here,” I choked, breathless against his shoulder. “God, you’re alive.”
He buried his face in my wet hair, his voice low and rough. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Tears stung my eyes, hot despite the cold. My body shook with sobs I hadn’t let out until now. “Not yet,” I whispered, clutching him tighter. “Not ever.”
For that moment, nothing else existed—not the storm, not the blood, not the enemies still lurking in the dark. Just him. Just us.
And the unspoken truth burning between us:
we’d both nearly broken tonight.
