They stare at each other for a breath before nodding in some kind of silent agreement.
“Good. This will be over soon. Anything goes wrong, you get back to the vans. If you can’t do that, you meet at the rendezvous spot. Worst-case scenario, you find each other and you fucking run. Do you understand me?”
I nod, trying to find the right words, but they seem to escape me. Instead, I step forward and hug him tightly.
“Be careful,” I whisper, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
“You too, Ella-Bella,” he murmurs back, giving me a squeeze before stepping back. “Both of you.”
It doesn’t take long before we’re settled in vehicles with our teams and moving. The silence in the van is suffocating, thick with the tension that none of us dare to break.
I’m crammed in the back seat, squeezed between Hunter and Ghost, our knees brushing against each other with every bump in the road. The van is nondescript, the kind that would blend in anywhere, but there’s something about it that screams top of the line. It’s built for stealth, for missions like this.
Not for the first time, I wonder where all the money for this operation comes from, who funds it, and why. My head spins with questions that I’m too afraid to ask, the answers too terrifying to contemplate right now.
I blink, trying to clear my head, but the questions linger, making my stomach twist with unease.
Before I can settle into the discomfort, the van slows down, and I realize we’re pulling up outside the guys’ house. My heart leaps into my throat as I glance out the window, taking in the darkened exterior. The sun has long since set, officially marking six days without them. Six days since my birthday. Six days sinceI watched Eric die. Six days since Hunter was shot, and his blood stained my hands.
Six days since my entire world imploded.
The weight of it all presses down on me, suffocating, but I force myself to stay focused. This is it. This is our chance to bring them home.
Hunter’s hand slides into mine, his grip firm and reassuring. I turn to look at him, my heart squeezing at the worry etched into his features.
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asks, his voice low, almost a whisper in the quiet of the van.
I’m immediately thrown back to the night of my party where we sat in another back seat. Has it only been a week since he told me how he feels about me? Admitted he’s in love with me, and I did the same.
God, it feels like a lifetime ago, and yet, a lifetime with him will never be enough.
“We can leave it to the professionals,” he murmurs, giving me his usual smirk. “Run away, find a beach, and have a mai tai or twenty.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and I quickly blink it away, offering him a soft smile. “I love them, Hunt.”
Again. I’m struck by deja vu so fiercely, my world spins.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “I know you do.”
“Are you okay with that?” I ask, my voice barely audible, but the question feels like it’s burning a hole in my chest. I need to know. I need to hear him say it, even if it’s not what I want to hear.
His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking with tension. “I never thought I would be, but I’m learning for you there are no bounds to what I wouldn’t give, what I wouldn’t agree to.”
“But that’s not the same as being okay with it,” I quickly say, my heart pounding in my chest. “Hunt—”
“Sorry, Ms. Moreau.” Bobby’s deep voice cuts through the tension, sounding almost apologetic as he glances back at us. “It’s now or never. We have to go.”
Hunter’s gaze lingers on mine for a beat longer before he lets out a slow breath, nodding at Bobby. We file silently out of the van, the cold night air biting against my skin. But the words Hunter said, and the ones he didn’t say, echo in my mind, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
The night is eerily still, with only the faint rustling of leaves in the distance. We move in a tight formation, our footsteps silent on the gravel driveway. It feels like a military operation, each step calculated, every breath measured. The tension radiates off everyone, tightening the air around us.
We reach a hidden entrance to the house tucked beneath a thick cropping of trees. The door leads to a storage closet in the back of the gym. An escape measure they installed with the panic rooms and armory.
I close my eyes, running through the layout of the house they so carefully and thoughtfully constructed. On the other side of the door, I can clearly picture the closet, the towel rack I’ll have to shove to the side, and the second steel-inforced door with another coded panel…
It’s a lot, and it makes me smile.
Between my four Diablos, there’s no limit to their protectiveness. A deluded part of me hopes they’re still inside, alive and waiting for us, but I know it’s nothing but a pipe dream.
