Page 22 of Promises in the Dark

“But there wasn’t much else on file,” she added quickly, a little defensive. “Medical staff have access only to the essential information. Everything else is classified.”

Good. My file was locked down tight. Only people with a need-to-know would have access to the real dirt.

But I knew one thing for sure—there was a fucking rat among us.

The steady hum of the engine wasn’t enough to drown out the storm of thoughts racing through my head. Someone had compromised us, a fucking snitch, and I was gonna find out who the hell it was.

“Rogue, watch out!”

Chapter 7

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Isnapped back to reality, eyes widening in shock.

I yanked the wheel hard, barely avoiding a crash by a hair. “What the fuck?!” I blurted out in shock.

I pulled over, my hands still gripping the wheel as I scanned the area, looking for any signs of danger. Something was off, the air was too damn still, too quiet. That creeping silence sent a chill down my spine.

Shit didn’t feel right.

I turned to Red, following her line of sight, and that’s when I saw it—a kid lying motionless in the alley. My senses went into overdrive, every muscle in my body tensed as I locked onto the motionless figure. The quiet was making the whole scene ten times more fucked up, every instinct in me screamed that something was seriously wrong.

“We need to help them,” she said, pointing at the kid lying on the pavement.

I shook my head, my expression growing dark. “We’re in a Taliban-controlled territory. Any one of those buildings could be filled with insurgents. It’s too dangerous.”

Red didn’t back down. “I took an oath,” she said with confidence, folding her arms.

I gave her a sharp look. “This is not a negotiation,” I retorted sharply, my warning filled with finality.

“I can’t leave them here like this,” she yelled back at me, daring me to argue with her.

“If we get caught, we won’t be able to help anyone,” I said, my words coming out harsh and biting as I gave her a cold stare. “We’ll become targets ourselves.”

But she just looked at me, not even fazed. And then, like she couldn’t give a shit about my warning, she shrugged.

“Then stay in the car,” she said, her sentence holding a hint of defiance.

I reached for her arm, trying to stop her from doing something completely reckless, but before I could get a grip, she yanked herself free and bolted out of the car.

“What part of ‘it’s too fucking dangerous’ do you not understand?!”

But she was already walking toward the kid, not even looking back. A part of me wanted to just let her go, let her deal with the chaos she was so hell-bent on getting herself into. God, the frustration was boiling over. Every problem she dragged with her was becoming a massive pain in my ass.

But underneath all that anger, something else stirred—something I didn’t want to fucking admit. It was like this instinct to protect her was buried deep, rising up and pissing me off because it didn’t make any sense.

I was conflicted.

No, fuck that, I was goddamn torn.

Leaving her would’ve been the easy way out. One less headache. But the thought of her getting hurt—or worse—sent a sharp, cold feeling through me.

Fuck it.

Every step she took toward that kid was fueling my anger. I threw open the door, stepping out of the car after her. The hot night air slapped me in the face, making everything feel ten times more irritating. My steps were quick, my frustration building with every second as I followed her. When she knelt down beside the kid, I moved in close, ready for whatever was about to go down.

“Hey, there,” she said softly, her voice gentle as she tried to talk to the boy.

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