Page 588 of Rage

“Raine,” I call out, my voice low and steady despite the tension. “We’ve got company. Get dressed quickly and stay close.”

Chapter Seven

Raine

The bathroom is still steamy from the hot shower as I wrap myself in a towel, relishing the brief moment of warmth and calm. But this fleeting peace is shattered by a soft, urgent knock on the door, followed by Huxley’s low, steady voice.

“Raine, we’ve got company. Get dressed quickly and stay close.”

Fear and adrenaline spike through me, and I rush to pull on the clothes Huxley set out. My hands tremble slightly as I fumble with the buttons. The events of the last day replay in my mind; a rush of chaos, betrayal, and the gnawing sense that danger is closing in on us.

When I step out of the bathroom, I find Huxley standing there—a sentinel, gun at the ready, his eyes alert and intense. The sight of him, so determined and protective, sends a shiver down my spine. He motions for me to stay close, and we move together silently through the cabin.

My heart pounds in my chest, each creak of the floorboards amplifying the tension. I have to trust him—our survival depends on it.

The soft glow of the room's ambient lighting contrasts sharply with the reality that was beginning to unfold.

He makes his way to a place on the wall where a picture hangs. I gaze at the ornate picture that hangs on the wall, a masterfully painted landscape that did nothing to reveal the secrets behind its frame. Confusion swirls within me as I feel a mixture of intrigue and fear. With a quick hand, he pulls the picture aside, revealing a sleek keypad hidden behind it. Huxley’s fingers dance across the buttons as he types in a code with the ease of someone who has done it a thousand times before. The wall behind it clicks, and the whole panel slid open to unveil a hidden James Bond type weapons cache.

“Who the hell are you?” I question, my breath hitching as I take in the sight before me: sleek guns line up like trophies, each one more menacing than the last. Without looking up, he reaches for a small handgun and hands it to me. The cool metal feels foreign in my hands, alien even, as I cradle it awkwardly.

“I’m a Black Ops Shadow Agent,” Huxley admits nonchalantly, as if we are merely discussing the weather on a sunny day. My brows shoot up in shock, my heart racing in my chest. The thrilling, terrifying news leaves a chasm of confusion and a sinking darkness within me.

“What the—” My words stumble as I try to find footing. "Is Huxley even your name?" I whisper, my voice a shaky breath tinged with apprehension.

He pauses, his steel-gray eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. "Now’s not the time, Firefly, but no, my name isn’t Huxley." He returns to stowing weapons, his movements efficient and practiced, but the sharp beep of his watch slices through the air, snapping my focus back to the reality of our situation.

"Dammit," he curses under his breath. There is urgency in his movements as he shoves more weapons into a tacticalbackpack, strapping guns onto himself until he seems more soldier than man, but even that isn’t enough to calm the rising tension.

"They’re getting closer. Take this and go to the basement. Lock the door from the inside. Don’t let anyone in. I have a key, so I won’t ask you to open it. Do you understand? Do not open that door for any reason." His voice is steady but edged with urgency; his stare bores into me, causing adrenaline to surge through my veins.

I nod, my limbs feeling heavy, yet compliant. It is as if an unseen force had taken control of my body, guiding me toward the stairs.

“Wait! What if something happens to you? I don’t even know your name…” My voice trembles as his features harden, and I fall silent, struck by the weight of my helplessness.

In response, he slams his mouth over mine with a sudden intensity, crashing against me like a powerful wave. His arms encircle my waist, and I surrender to the onslaught of emotions that dances between us. Warm, expert lips move against mine, sending waves of passion through my body, igniting every nerve ending until I feel as though I am drowning in our connection.

I open for him, and he takes the invitation, exploring deeper with a fervor that leaves my head spinning. The kiss feels like an eternity wrapped in moments, like time has slowed and the world outside melted away.

But too soon, the passionate maelstrom subsides, leaving us both gasping for air, our foreheads press together. I feel alive yet scared, heart racing in a way that is entirely new but entirely wrong.

"I’ll be back for you, baby. Don’t worry about me," he murmurs, pulling my chin up gently. His fingers are rough yet tender, and there’s an unshakable bond that forms in that fleeting moment. He kisses my forehead softly, a promisesimmering in the air between us. "And my name is Cole." With a wink that sparks a flicker of hope amidst the chaos, he turns away, heading into the fray of whatever danger lay outside.

As his silhouette disappears into the shadows beyond the door, I feel a surge of fear combined with a deep, undeniable longing. My heart clutches in my chest, a fierce determination igniting within me.

I can’t let him go alone.

This is my fight too.

My determination hardens as I hasten back upstairs to the hidden arsenal I previously bypassed. I’ve always had a knack for numbers, and watching Huxley—Cole—enter the intricate passcode is ingrained in my mind like a mantra. I repeat the sequence, and the heavy doors slide open with a soft hiss.

I set down the gun that’s suddenly too foreign in my hands and pull out a bow and quiver of arrows. An odd choice perhaps, but I know how to use it—something my father inadvertently gifted me when he forced me to learn the skills he hated. And how poetic it would be if I used it against him.

I hastily pull on some of Cole’s warm clothes, the familiar scent surrounding me and providing a strange comfort amidst the chaos that erratically unfolds.

As I slip out of the cabin, the biting cold hits me instantly, crunching underfoot, the snow swirling like tiny shards of glass beneath my boots. My breath fogs in the air, but the chill does nothing to quell the inferno burning in my heart. It dawns on me too late that I’m heading in the opposite direction of Cole, the man who had unwittingly stolen my heart when he stepped into my world of darkness.

Suddenly, I come face-to-face with my father. Surprise flickers in his cruel eyes, but he’s too caught off guard to notice the bow tucked behind my back. The air thickens with tensionas I reach for the small recorder I’d discovered among Cole’s belongings, pressing the button.

---