"And if I see an opportunity you don't?"
"Then you tell me, and we decide together." I squeeze her fingers. "But Evie—if I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. Your life is not worth less than theirs."
"They're my family."
"And you're—" I stop. The word that wants to come out is too big, too soon, too much for a relationship that's only hours old.
But she hears it anyway. I can see it in her eyes—the way they soften, the way her breath catches.
"Okay," she says quietly. "I'll follow your lead."
"Thank you."
We start walking. The terrain is rough—rocks and scrub and the occasional steep descent—but after the cliff, it feels almost easy. Evie matches my pace, her worn Merrells finding purchase on the uneven ground, her body moving with the efficiency of someone who's spent years learning to trust herself in wild places.
I try not to think about what's waiting for us in Sacramento. Try not to think about the cartel soldiers, the unknown numbers, the trap we're probably walking into.
I try not to think about how much I have to lose now.
But the thoughts come anyway, unwanted and relentless. Four hours ago, this was a job. A mission. Get the witness, get her to safety, move on to the next thing.
Now it's personal. Now there's a woman beside me who I'm not ready to lose, and people she loves who I've never met but would die to protect.
Because they're hers. And she's?—
Mine, something whispers.She's mine.
I push the thought away. Focus on the terrain, the mission, the next step.
We have an hour to the extraction point. Forty minutes in the air. And then whatever's waiting for us in Sacramento.
No pressure.
FOURTEEN
The Conflict
EVIE
The helicopter is loud.
Not the rhythmic thump of movie helicopters—this is a bone-rattling roar that makes conversation nearly impossible without the headsets Riot—Jon—handed me the moment we climbed in. The pilot, a woman with steel-gray hair and the kind of calm that comes from decades of flying into bad situations, didn't ask questions. Just nodded at Riot, lifted off, and pointed us toward Sacramento.
I watch the mountains fall away beneath us. The cliff we climbed is invisible from this height—just another wrinkle in the vast expanse of granite and pine. Somewhere down there is the crevice where I let a stranger become something more. But I can't think about that now. Can't think about anything except Sera and Rosie.
Riot's voice crackles through the headset. "Mitzy, what's the update?"
"Still gathering intel on Sera's location."Mitzy's voice is tighter than before, focused."The cartel chatter has gone quiet—either they found the address and they're moving, or they hit a wall. No way to know which."
"ETA on backup?"
"Echo team is wheels up, but they're coming from the coast. Three hours minimum, probably closer to three and a half."
Three hours. We'll be on the ground in Sacramento in forty minutes. Whatever happens, we're handling it alone.
"What about local law enforcement?" I ask. "Can't we call the police, get someone to Sera's house?—"
"Local PD is unreliable." Jon’s voice is flat through the headset. "Cartel has hooks in half the departments in the area. We call the cops, we might be sending her location straight to the people hunting her."
