Page 27 of His Lost Mate

Simpson’s expression hardened. “Then you’ve chosen your fate.”

Before he could signal his men, a distant roar filled the air. Helicopter blades. Phoebe’s heart leapt as the familiar sound grew louder, accompanied by the crackle of radio chatter. Searchlights cut through the trees, bathing the clearing in blinding light.

The Air Force rescue team had arrived.

Chaos erupted as the assailants scattered, their shouts drowned out by the roar of the helicopter. Armed soldiers rappelled down, their weapons trained on the fleeing attackers. Jonah pulled Phoebe to her feet, his hand gripping hers as he led her toward the rescue team.

“Are you Lawrence?” one of the soldiers called, his voice sharp over the din.

“That’s me!” Phoebe shouted, her voice trembling with relief.

The soldier gestured for them to follow. “Come with us. We’re getting you out of here.”

Phoebe glanced back at Jonah, her heart pounding as their eyes met. His expression was unreadable, but his grip on her hand was firm, steady. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

As they moved toward safety, Phoebe couldn’t shake off what they’d just learned. Mitchell’s betrayal, Simpson’s involvement—it was all connected. But for now, she had Jonah. And together, they’d figure out the rest.

The rescue camp was quiet, the chaos of the past few hours replaced with the steady hum of generators and low murmurs of soldiers completing their reports. Phoebe sat on the edge of a cot, staring out at the horizon as the sun began to set, streaking the sky with hues of orange and pink. The crisp air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed it. Her thoughts were elsewhere—on what had happened, what was coming, and most of all, Jonah.

He leaned against a nearby post, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his eyes scanning the camp. Even now, after everything, he exuded calm control, the kind that made her feel safer than she ever had. But there was tension in his posture, a subtle tightness that told her he was waiting—waiting for her decision.

“Lawrence,” a voice called, breaking her reverie.

Phoebe looked up to see Major Danvers, the leader of the rescue team, approaching with a clipboard in hand. He stopped a few feet away, his expression professional but warm.

“The traitors are being taken into custody,” Danvers said. “Lt Col Mitchell’s involvement is already being investigated. Thanks to you, the Ghosthawk project is secure.”

Phoebe nodded, her throat tightening. “Good. That’s good.”

Danvers hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly to Jonah before returning to her. “Your debrief is scheduled back at the base. After that, you’ll be cleared to return to the lower forty-eight if you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mitchell wasn’t wrong to bring you in to test that plane. The Air Force could use you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

She glanced at Jonah, who remained silent, his jaw tight as their eyes met. The decision she’d been dreading was here, staring her in the face.

“You don’t have to decide now. I’ll let you think it over,” Danvers said, stepping away.

Phoebe turned her gaze back to Jonah, her heart pounding. “You haven’t said anything,” she murmured.

Jonah pushed off the post, his presence commanding as he stepped closer. “Because it doesn’t really matter.”

“You don’t care?” she asked, the hurt in her voice evident.

“Of course I care, but I’m not giving you up. I told you that.”

Her lips parted, frustration and something deeper bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get to make that decision.”

Jonah grinned. “Want to bet?” he asked crossing to her.

Phoebe searched his face, her chest tightening. “What if I don’t want to live this life? What if I’m not ready?”

“You’ll get over it. I’ll teach you all you need to know,” Jonah said, his hand cupping her cheek. “You’re strong enough for this. I’ve seen it. You just have to believe it.”

Her breath hitched at the intensity in his gaze, the unspoken promise in his touch. She’d spent her whole life running from connections, from vulnerability, but with Jonah, it felt different. Real. Inevitable.

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