Page 35 of Legacy's Destiny

“She got caught in a flash flood and pulled underwater. When we found her, she wasn’t breathing. We did CPR and brought her back, but for a few minutes …” Deacon paused, his voice tightening. “She was gone.”

Ronan let out a long breath. “And now?”

“She’s okay. We carried her up the mountain to this village, but, man, it hit me like a ton of bricks. This woman … she’s something else. She’s touched something inside me I didn’t even know was there.”

Ronan said softly. “It sounds like you’ve found someone worth fighting for.”

Deacon rubbed his face, the firelight casting deep shadows across the room. “Maybe. It’s too early to know for sure, but I’m not willing to let go. When I thought I’d lost her, it felt like losing a piece of myself. The night we had together was amazing,” Deacon said, his voice low and thoughtful. The memory of her laugh, her sharp wit, and how she’d looked at him lingered like a warm fire in his mind. “She told me she was from Virginia, and before I knew she was my CIA contact, I’d already decided I wanted to get to know her. We’ve been together twenty-four hours a day for a while now. She fits this team. She knows my people. She knows my job.”

“Does she know who you are?” Ronan asked, his tone sharp with curiosity.

Deacon snorted. “Hell, no. She knows I’m Deacon Alexander, and that’s it. I don’t know what you did for Fleur regarding nondisclosure agreements, but I’m not telling anybody my realidentity without talking to Mom and Dad first—as Gabby did. I don’t think I’ll handle it like Charley did, but then again, Charley’s unique.”

“Charley is weirdly lovable, and we all know it. I still haven’t told Fleur everything,” Ronan admitted after a pause. His voice softened, the weight of his words evident. “She’s it for me, man, but she has to realize that for herself before I ask her to sign an NDA and tell her the whole truth.”

Deacon rubbed his face, the motion slow and weary. The constant roar of the rain outside and the oppressive humidity in the shelter pressed down on him like a physical weight. “Don’t you think that will put a wedge between you?”

“No, I don’t think it will,” Ronan replied firmly. “I love her. She loves me. She’s afraid I don’t know my mind, which is ironic as hell when she’s the one debating this connection, not me. But as soon as she works through everything in her head, I’m gonna marry her. Are you telling me you have feelings for this CIA officer?”

Deacon let out a short, humorless laugh. “Feelings? Yeah, I got all the fucking feels. Especially when she was caught in a flash flood, pulled underwater, and died.” He stopped, the words hanging in the air like a weight, before continuing. “I don’t know how she has affected me as much as she has. I was all business in the moment, but, man, I was freaking out while going through the emotions. I’ve never had that happen before. Don’t get me wrong—I mean, she was underwater. Her eyes were open. She was dead. We did CPR, and she came back to life. Then we carried her up the mountain to this village. Halfway up that damn rock is when everything fucking hit me. Like a boulder—aRaiders of the Lost Ark-sized fucking boulder. This woman touched something inside me I didn’t even know existed. Fuck, that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t sound stupid,” Ronan replied, his voice firm and calm. “It sounds like you found somebody who you could have a life with. What’s the one thing that attracts you the most to this woman?”

Deacon leaned back against the creaking chair, staring at the flickering firelight as he thought. “Well, besides the fact that she’s absolutely beautiful—at least to me—she has a massive personality that I jive with. I mean, like, immediately we connected. There was no awkwardness, no feeling each other out—we just clicked. She can stand up against Ace and all of his grumpy bullshit. She walked for miles with blisters on top of blisters without a single complaint.”

“So, stubborn like you. That’s good.” Ronan laughed.

“Right? But she’s more than that. She’s super intelligent … Hell, man, there isn’t justonething. Echo is the whole nine yards.”

Ronan chuckled, a warm, knowing sound. “Cool name. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the love bug has bitten you.”

“Love?” Deacon snorted, shaking his head. “It’s way too early for love—hence me saying I know what Fleur’s talking about. But there’s something there, dude. There’s something there, and I’m not willing to let it go. When I thought I’d lost her, I was devastated—not only because she’s my charge during this mission but because of that connection.”

“Then don’t ever let her go,” Ronan said simply.

“I have zero plans of that happening,” Deacon replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Now, do me a favor and figure out how to get us the fuck out of this water barrel.”

Ronan groaned loudly. “If I have to build an ark and float it there to get you, I will. But if you’re safe, we’re not gonna put anybody at risk. You’ll have to wait. According to the weathermaps, it looks like about two to three weeks. One front after another is rolling in.”

“Two to three weeks? We can do that. Unless Echo develops complications from what happened today. If that happens, I don’t fucking care what the Laotian or American government says. Come and get us.”

“That’s guaranteed,” Ronan said firmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“For as long as it takes,” Deacon replied, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I need to get back to Echo.”

“Copy. Take care of yourself, and I’ll stay in touch with Click,” Ronan replied before the line went quiet.

Deacon shifted his attention back to his surroundings. The storm outside was relentless. The distant flooding water was a roaring monster, swelling beyond its banks. It swallowed trees and debris in its path. Each flash of lightning illuminated the jungle. Their newest fight was the tangle of vines, the dripping foliage, and the relentless mud that clung to everything.

Standing, he grabbed his pack from the pile of soaked equipment, and when he unzipped it, the damp fabric clinging to his fingers, he discovered a small bag with a pair of dry socks tucked inside. A rare stroke of luck. Thank God. Echo’s lips had been nearly blue earlier, her skin cold. Even in the suffocating humidity of the jungle, she’d been freezing—a troubling sign. Bandit had explained it was a result of the shock from her experience, but it still gnawed at Deacon.

He grabbed a couple of MREs and slipped on his poncho, tucking the supplies under it to keep them dry. When he stepped outside, the rain pelted him, and the storm fought to push him sideways. The jungle seemed to close in. The sound of the stormwater rushing added to the leaves thrashing and the distant rumble of thunder to make one hell of a racket.

His team was out there, working silently and efficiently. They moved like shadows in the storm, their coordination seamless as they checked the perimeter and secured the area. The rain might have wiped away any tracks, but vigilance was a habit none of them would ever break.

Deacon pushed through the muck, the firelight from the smaller shelter glowing like a beacon in the chaos. His steps were deliberate, his focus sharp. He was going back to Echo, back to the woman who’d turned his world upside down in ways he hadn’t seen coming.

Deacon spoke with Bandit as he stepped into the smaller shelter. The rain outside pounded against the thatched roof. The humid air inside was thick, laced with the scent of damp wood smoke from the burning fire. Bandit stood near the door. His face shadowed, his tone calm but firm as he relayed his instructions.

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