“And whoever’s behind this?” I glance at the flash drive. “They’ll know.”
“Yes.”
“Kill teams.”
“Yes.”
I stare at her.
“You’ve been holding onto this the whole time?”
“I’ve never needed it before.”
“And now?”
Her voice doesn’t waver.
“Now I do.”
Something tightens in my chest.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Something deeper.
“You were just going to do this alone,” I say.
It’s not a question.
Her silence confirms it.
I push off the table, pain flaring through my side, but I don’t stop. I close the distance between us in two strides.
“Not happening.”
Her chin lifts slightly. “Jase—”
“No.” My voice drops. Firm. Unmovable. “You don’t carry this alone. Not this. Not anymore.”
Her eyes flash.
“You’re injured.”
“I’m standing. Besides, you’re also injured.”
“Barely.”
“Still standing.”
The tension snaps tight between us.
Storm outside.
Storm in here.
For a second, I think she’s going to argue harder.
