“I told her.” I meet their glares head-on. “Just before it happened.”
“Jesus, Asher,” Damon mutters.
“I didn’t plan it,” I say roughly. “It just… happened.”
Zane lets out a humorless chuckle. “And how’d she take that?”
I hesitate, thinking back to the kitchen, the way she looked at me like she was afraid to hope. The way I left before I could hear what she wanted to say back.
“She didn’t get the chance to answer,” I finally say. “Then Emma walked in, and the next thing I knew, we were out in the woods, looking for Ella.”
Damon scrubs a hand down his face. “Fuck.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Damon levels me with a look, arms crossed over his chest. “I thought you were leaving?”
The Dubai contract in my pocket feels like it’s burning a hole straight through me. A reminder of a choice that doesn’t feel like a choice anymore.
I pull it out, stare at the fine print for a second. Six months overseas, high pay, clean break. It should be easy. It should feel like the right move.
But it doesn’t.
I tear the contract in half.
Zane watches the pieces of paper flutter to the ground, eyebrows raising slightly. Damon exhales through his nose, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell them. My voice is rough but certain. “Not until we get our family back.”
For a long moment, none of us speak.
I glance at the maps, at the photos, at the evidence of Jason’s obsession. “We bring them home,” I say. “Then we figure out the rest.”
Zane and Damon nod. And just like that, we’re back on the same page.
Damon takes out his phone, scrolling through his contacts with a look that means trouble for anyone on the other end. “I’m calling in some favors,” he says.
“What favors?” I ask, watching him carefully.
“The kind that get shit done.” He presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear. “One of the reasons I bought this cabin was that the Army Ranger training facility is nearby and run by a friend. He’s always looking for training exercises for the men.”
Zane lets out a low whistle. “So we’re making this an official op?”
“If it gets Mia and the girls back, I don’t care what we call it,” Damon says, stepping out onto the porch as the call connects.
I exchange a glance with Zane. If Damon’s reaching out to his old contacts, this is about to get serious. And that’s exactly what we need.
Once Damon’s done with his call, we sit around the cabin’s dining table, weapons spread out between us, cleaning supplies in reach. The rhythmic motions of dismantling, scrubbing, reassembling—it's a ritual, something to keep our hands busy while we wait.
“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Damon says to me.
“What?” I say defensively.
He raises a brow. “Mia got taken because I got too jealous and left. And there’s no other way to put it. We work better together, that can’t be clearer. But what I’m trying to say is…” He pauses. “As unconventional as Mia's ideas are, it’s not a bad way to go.”
I pause, glancing up. “What do you mean?”
Zane sets down his freshly cleaned Glock, rubbing his jaw. “Pretty sure you already know what he means.”
