And I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t breathe.
Not because of the fight.
Because I’d been two feet from being taken again.
Again.
It wasn’t the violence that froze me.
It was how close it had been.
The way the door had burst inward, the sound splitting the air, my scream tearing out before I could stop it. The way Wrecker’s body had moved in front of mine without hesitation, without thought, like instinct had taken over where fear ended.
Two feet.
That was all the space between me and losing everything I’d clawed back.
I pressed my forehead to the cabinet, forcing myself to stay upright, to stay here. My knees shook like they were threatening to give out, but I refused to let myself slide down again.
Not this time.
Not after I’d warned him.
Not after I’d survived.
“Clear!” Doc’s voice rang out from the doorway.
Cap followed close behind him, gun drawn. His eyes swept over the fallen body, then locked on me.
“You okay?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure that was true. My back was still pressed against the cabinet. My lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. And Wrecker? He looked like he was one wrong move away from tearing the guy apart all over again.
Doc crouched beside the body, checking vitals even though we all knew the answer. “He’s alive. Barely.”
Wrecker didn’t flinch. He just stared at his bloodied hands.
Cap tilted his head, assessing him. “That adrenaline’s a bitch, huh?”
No response.
Cap didn’t push. He turned to Ghost, who appeared like smoke itself in the corner of the room, a bloodied rag in his gloved hand.
“Two more down on the north perimeter,” Ghost said. “Militia, like I thought. Amateur tactics, cheap gear, no comms system. This wasn’t a coordinated hit.”
Doc glanced up. “Just a warning?”
Ghost dropped the bloodied cloth onto the floor. “More like a message.”
Cap grunted. “What’s the message?”
“That they can still get close.”
The words chilled me worse than the air.
“They were testing our defenses,” Ghost added. “Seeing how fast we respond. How we communicate. Looking for weak points.”
