I settle back against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling safe for the first time since the parking lot attack.
This is complicated. This is messy. This is probably going to make everything harder.
But lying here in the dark with Thatcher's arms around me, I can't bring myself to care.
Some risks are worth taking.
Even the scary ones.
6
THATCHER
Gwen sleeps curled on her side, one hand tucked under the pillow, breathing steady and slow. The bruises on her face are changing color, but they're still visible.
I stayed awake longer than I should have, watching her sleep, cataloging the way she curls into herself even in rest. Protective instinct or just how she's wired—I can't tell yet.
When I finally slept, it was deep. Better than I've slept in years.
She stirs, eyes opening slowly and focusing on me still in bed beside her,.
"You stayed," she says, voice rough with sleep.
"Where else would I go?"
"I don't know. Back to maintaining professional distance?" But she's smiling slightly. "Reasserting boundaries?"
"Tried that. Didn't work."
She shifts closer, and I pull her in. She fits against my side like she belongs there, and maybe she does.
"What time is it?" she asks.
"Zero-six-hundred."
"You're very military in the morning."
"I'm very military all the time. You're just noticing now because you're not unconscious."
She laughs against my chest. "Fair point."
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Text from Rivera:
Need to talk. Call when you can.
I show it to Gwen. "NCIS update."
"That can't be good at six in the morning."
"Probably not." I dial Rivera, put it on speaker.
"Caine," Rivera answers immediately. "We've got a lead on the office break-in. Security footage caught someone entering the admin wing at oh-two-hundred. We're running facial recognition now."
"How long until you have an ID?"
"Few hours, maybe. I'll update you when we know more." She pauses. "How's Dr. Abernathy?"
Gwen sits up. "I'm here, Agent Rivera. And I'm fine."
