"Rogue'll be a minute," Ghost said. His voice came out flat. "Frost is helping with the body."
Torch and Predator nodded.
Ghost crossed the space between them, his stride eating up distance. His eyes never left hers.
Then he reached her.
His hands came up to frame her face, thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. His palms were rough, still tacky with blood that hadn't fully dried, but his touch was gentle.
Rachel's hands came up to grip his wrists. Her eyes tracked over the blood on his hands, his forearms, his chest. "Are you okay?"
"Am I—" Ghost's voice caught. "Baby, I'm fine. I'm worried about you.”
"But you're covered in blood."
"Not mine." His thumbs traced along her cheekbones, slow and deliberate. "Most of it's not mine."
Rachel nodded. Her fingers tightened on his wrists. She could feel his pulse there, still racing.
"It's done," Ghost said, his voice low. "He's gone. He can't hurt you. Can't touch you. Ever again."
"I know." She did know. Had known the moment she heard that single shot. "I heard."
His forehead dropped to hers. His breath came uneven against her face, hot and ragged. "I need you to tell me you're okay. That I got here in time.:
"I'm okay," Rachel whispered. "I'm here. I'm standing. I'm—" Her voice wavered. "I'm okay because you came."
"Always." His hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. "I will always come.”
Rachel's eyes stung. She blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall. Not yet. Not here. "I knew you would."
His arms came around her then, pulling her in close. He needed her against him, needed proof she was real and whole and here. His face buried in her hair. She felt him shake, just once, a full-body tremor he couldn't quite control.
Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. Her face pressed into his bare chest. His pulse hammered beneath her cheek, too fast, irregular. He smelled like blood and sweat and gunpowder, but underneath that was just him. Soap and skin and safety.
Ghost's other arm locked around her waist, holding her so tightly her bruised ribs protested. But she didn't care. She needed this. Needed him.
They stood like that. The team moved around them with quiet efficiency, giving them space.
Finally, Ghost pulled back just enough to see her face. His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing gently over the bruise forming there, purple and tender.
Then he kissed her.
Soft at first. His lips moving against hers carefully, like he was confirming she was real. But then the kiss deepened. His hand tightened in her hair. His arm around her waist pulled her closer. The kiss turned urgent, claiming, a physical promise that they were both here and whole and together.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. His breath came fast and uneven, warming her face. "Let's get you home."
Rachel nodded against him. "Yeah. Let's go home."
Behind them, Rogue and Frost emerged from the warehouse, moving with purpose toward the vehicles. The team began loading up.
Ghost's hand found Rachel's, fingers lacing through hers. "Come on, baby."
Frost, Echo, Bear, Rogue, and Predator moved to the first SUV. Bear took the wheel, the others filing in around him.
Torch headed for the second SUV, Brick already claiming the passenger seat. Reaper was helping Carver into the third row, supporting his injured arm carefully.
Ghost guided Rachel to the second vehicle and opened the back door. But instead of letting her slide in first, he climbed in first, then reached for her.
