“I know you have.” She looked up at him, and something in her expression softened. “That’s what you do.”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
“Among other things.” She reached up and touched his face.
He leaned down and kissed her. Not brief this time. Thorough. The kind of kiss that said what words couldn’t convey—that she was the variable he’d never anticipated, and he was grateful for it every day.
When he pulled back, her hand was still on his face.
“We’re going to end this,” she said.
“Yes.”
“And then I want to reorganize your bookshelves properly. The Asimov is still wrong.”
He almost smiled. “Noted.”
They walked out together. Past the kitchen, the living room, all the spaces that had become theirs. Outside, the others were loading vehicles—gear and equipment, everything they needed.
Lincoln paused at his SUV. Looked back at the compound he’d built as a fortress against uncertainty. For years, this place had been his refuge.
Now, it was simply home. The place where Morgan was.
A little less than two hours later, he climbed into the driver’s seat. Morgan settled beside him. Behind them, Bear’s truck and Callum’s vehicle pulled into formation.
The convoy headed for Denver.
Lincoln drove with his hands steady on the wheel, his mind cycling through the operation one final time. Entry points. Contingencies. Scenarios. He’d prepared for everything.
The road stretched ahead, dark and empty, carrying them toward whatever waited in Denver.
Chapter 25
Six months ago:
Binary: I have seventeen redundant security systems. I still don’t feel safe.
Mercury: Safety isn’t about systems. It’s about having someone who would come for you.
Binary: That requires trusting another person with your survival.
Mercury: Yes. Terrifying, isn’t it?
Binary: Extremely.
Mercury: I think it might be worth it anyway.
The industrial building rose against the Denver skyline like something the city had forgotten.
Morgan moved with Lincoln and the guys through the side entrance, her heart hammering against her ribs. The team moved around her like shadows intactical black—vests, holsters, the dull gleam of weapons held low and ready.
These were the same people who’d made room for her at the Eagle’s Nest without hesitation, who’d pretended not to remember her face to protect her, who’d teased Lincoln about messed-up birthday parties.
Now Bear led their formation, his massive frame somehow silent as he moved. Derek flanked right, his jaw set with focused intensity, all that easygoing warmth replaced by something harder. Theo and Callum had already split off to cover the north exit, their check-ins a low murmur through the comms.
They looked like soldiers. They moved like soldiers. And Morgan was among them in borrowed tactical gear that felt foreign against her skin, an earpiece feeding her the soft crackle of comm chatter.
The building swallowed them whole. What little light filtered through the boarded windows died within feet of the walls, leaving the interior in a darkness that seemed to breathe. Weathered brick. The particular silence of a place abandoned long enough to become invisible. Lincoln had predicted this—neutral ground, no signs of regular use, the kind of location that existed because no one cared enough to look at it.
