Page 56 of Bound to the Guard

Blinking hard, I wrench my eyes back to Damien’s body cam. His confident, steady movements as he clears each room should comfort me, but it can’t stop the rising tide of dread. Horrifying things lurk behind those doors.

“…Team Two, head left down the east wing,” Milo says, the words fading in and out through the ringing in my ears as I stare at the monitor, unable to look away.

I have to stay present. No shutting down. Damien needs me to be strong. Counting isn’t helping, so what do I feel?

One, the nubby texture of the canvas chair fabric.

As the cameras pan over familiar hallways, my resolve starts to crumble faster, memories of my time at the lab trying to drag me under. Praying my past demons won’t put the man I love in danger, I cling to the blanket like a lifeline.

Two, the softness of the fabric.

Please let him make it through this.

Three, the bite of my nails into my palm.

On the screen, Damien’s long strides lead his team deeper into the facility.

“Hey.” Milo cuts through my spiraling thoughts as he stops next to my chair, his hand over his microphone. “You okay, Seven?”

Not trusting my voice, I manage a shaky nod.

Milo studies me for a moment, his beautiful features softening. “He’s gonna be fine. Damien knows what he’s doing.”

I want to believe him, but as the team’s cameras flick between sterile rooms filled with gleaming equipment, my stomach churns with anxiety. Each image dredges up memories I tried so hard to bury.

Without warning, shouts erupt from the speakers, followed by the unmistakable crack of gunfire. Damien’s camera jerks and then drops, and I lurch forward, my breath catching.

No, no, no…

“Team One, report!” Milo barks into his microphone, steady despite the tension coiling in his slender frame.

“Lab security engaging,” comes Damien’s response. “Returning fire.”

More shots ring out, echoing through the room, and I grip my blanket so tightly that the edges dig into my shoulders where it wraps around me. Every instinct screams at me to run, to hide, but I force myself to stay rooted, glued to Damien’s camera as it jerks and weaves with his movements.

Please be okay, I pray. I can’t lose him. Not like this.

I never should have let him do this. I should have been stronger, should have begged him to not go.

Sebastian shifts in his chair, his head turning toward me. “You need to breathe, Seven.”

I suck in a shuddering breath past the vise around my chest that’s squeezing tighter with every gunshot that crackles through the speakers.

“If this is too much, you can go to the library,” Sebastian suggests. “Leo can keep you company until this is over.”

For a moment, I’m tempted. The thought of being away from these screens, from the reminders of my past, is appealing.

Then Damien’s voice cuts through the mayhem, barking orders to his team, and I shake my head. “No, I need to stay to see this through.”

“Okay.” Sebastian settles back in his chair, his attention returning to his keyboard.

I turn back to the monitors, my heart in my throat as Damien navigates the halls of the facility.

This has to work. We have to shut them down. If we don’t, if they keep hurting people like they hurt me… I can’t finish the thought. The memories are too close, too raw.

Damien crackles through the speakers again, and I latch onto it like a lifeline. So long as he’s still fighting, still breathing, my past can’t hurt us.

The monitor pans across a room stacked with medical crates and files. My breath catches in my throat as a chair with leather straps and metal prongs fills the monitor. The chair where they…

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