“I’d say you can hate them. Just do it behind me.”
She looks at the photo again. Her voice is small but steady. “Okay. Fine. I’ll stand there.”
I shift to place myself between her and the door. Her eyes follow. Her lips twitch like she wants to smile.
Outside, the wind howls against the hangar like it’s trying to get in.
Someone out there thinks they’ve scared her.
They haven’t met me.
I send a single line to the group chat:
ME:Sabotage confirmed. Program grounded. Threat to Riley. I’m staying close.
The thread lights up instantly.
NASH:On standby.
MACK:Gimme names.
SIN:Don’t let her out of your sight.
BANKS:Buy her soup. Pretty girls love soup.
JACE:Trust your gut.
COLT:Keep her safe. Bring her home.
I put the phone down and look at Riley.
“We’re going to find them,” I say.
She nods slowly. “And then?”
I step closer. Close enough to feel the heat of her. “Then I do what I’m good at,” I say.
Protect. Fight. Destroy the threat.
And maybe—if she lets me—hold on to something good for once.
FOUR
RILEY
I never thought I’d feel weird about someone putting my phone in a pouch.
But here we are.
“Is that... a Faraday bag?” I ask, watching Crewe seal the flap like he’s locking away classified launch codes instead of my phone. “That’s the nerdiest piece of spy gear I’ve ever seen.”
Crewe’s expression doesn’t change. He just tucks the pouch into the glove compartment like it’s routine. “Nobody pings you while we’re en route.”
“You know, if you wanted an excuse to make me go off-grid, you could’ve just asked for my attention like a normal guy.”
“I’m not a normal guy.”
Fair.
