His jaw tightens, like he’s holding something in. “Mia, you—Damon, you—Zane.” He exhales sharply, finally turning to look at me. “This can’t work.”
His voice is controlled, but there’s something underneath it. Something fraying at the edges.
My pulse kicks up. “What are you saying?”
“I’ve taken another job.” He swallows. “I leave in a week.”
I stare at him, the weight of those words pressing down on my chest. “You’re leaving.”
“I have to.”
The way he says it—like he’s trying to convince himself, not just me—makes my hands curl into fists. I should be angry. I should tell him he’s a coward for running when things get complicated. But I see it now—the way he’s pulling back, the way he’s shutting down. He thinks he’s protecting himself. Or protecting me.
I shake my head. “So that’s it? You just disappear?”
He lets out a humorless laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Mia, what do you want me to do? Stay and pretend like this is normal? That I can just—” He cuts himself off, dragging in a breath. “I don’t do complicated. And this? This is complicated.”
A lump rises in my throat, and I hate it. Hate that I care. “You don’t have to do anything, Asher.” My voice is quieter now, but steadier. “But don’t act like the girls don’t love you. That I—” I bite my tongue before I can finish that sentence.
I want him here, more than I can admit.
“It’s better this way, Mia,” he says.
Before I can argue, a piercing alarm shatters the air, the high-pitched wail slicing through the house like a knife. My heart lurches.
For a second, I’m frozen, heart slamming against my ribs. Then Zane’s voice crackles over the radio, sharp and urgent.
“Perimeter breach, east side!”
Gunfire shatters the night.
Asher’s entire demeanor shifts in an instant, his hesitation gone, all business. His body coils like a loaded spring, his hand already reaching for the firearm at his hip.
“Get to the panic room,” Asher orders me. “Now.”
My breath catches. “But the twins?—”
“They’re safer there than anywhere else.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Move, Mia.”
I don’t argue. I turn and bolt down the hall, every survival instinct screaming at me to get to my daughters.
My feet pound against the hardwood as I race toward the twins' room. My hands shake as I push open the door.
Emma and Ella are already awake, clinging to each other, their wide eyes darting around in confusion.
“Mommy?” Ella’s voice trembles. “What’s happening?”
I scoop them up, one arm around each of them, pressing kisses to their hair. “We’re playing a game, baby. Super Secret Agent Mission. We have to get to the safe room, remember?”
Emma nods, but she’s shaking, too.
I hurry down the hall, my mind racing, my heart hammering. The gunshots have stopped, but the silence feels even worse. Like something’s coming.
We’re halfway up the stairs when the sound of breaking glass explodes through the house. The twins shriek, clinging to me,their tiny hands digging into my arms. My heartbeat is a wild drum in my ears.
Then Damon appears at the top of the stairs. He pulls the girls out of my arms and starts to run ahead, both of them secured in his arms.
I don’t hesitate. I grab the railing, practically dragging myself up the remaining steps as more shots ring out from outside. My breath comes too fast, panic clawing at my chest.
