Page 169 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

The truth of his words hits like a physical blow.

I exhale, shoulders dropping. “I want freedom. I need it, like I need air to breathe.”

“And we want to give you that.” Hank’s posture doesn’t soften, but something in his eyes does. “Security isn’t about caging you. It’s about creating a perimeter where you can move freely.” His voice remains firm, but there’s an undercurrent of something else. Vulnerability, maybe. “I need your word that you won’t circumvent those measures.”

“He means that we want you to talk to us when things feel too restrictive. Not disappear.” His thumb traces circles on my hand, but there’s steel beneath his touch. “Because I promise you, sweetheart, if you vanish on us? The way we’d tear the world apart to find you wouldn’t be pretty.”

The playfulness in his voice doesn’t match the promise in his eyes, and I realize that for all his joking, Gabe’s core is just as unyielding as Hank’s—he just wraps it differently.

Something shifts inside me and tightens. I want this. Them. But I also want more.

I step back, needing distance to clear my head.

“What does that look like?” I ask, the fight draining from me. “Practically speaking.”

Hank and Gabe exchange a glance before Hank’s expression eases slightly, recognizing my willingness to listen. “It means if you’re going somewhere, you tell us. If plans change, you let us know. If you feel crowded by security, you talk to us about it instead of ditching them.”

Gabe moves behind me, his voice rumbling close to my ear. “No disappearing acts. No going dark. No evasion.”

“I need to know this goes both ways,” I say, finding my footing. “I don’t want to be protected at the expense of living. I have a thesis to defend. A doctorate to secure. I want a career in cutting-edge research. Conferences. Travel. Autonomy. How does that work?”

Hank’s response is immediate and direct. “We adjust. We adapt. We find ways to make that work.” He doesn’t offer platitudes or easy answers, just the certainty of a man accustomed to making impossible situations work.

Gabe’s approach is different, his expression softening as he steps to my side. “Your dreams aren’t obstacles to us—they’re part of who you are.” He gently nudges Hank with his elbow. “Right?”

Hank shoots him an irritated glance but nods. “We want your success as much as you do.”

“More, probably,” Gabe adds with a wink, though his eyes remain serious. “Because watching you shine? That’s a prize all its own.”

I exhale, grounding myself in the present. “For now… Living with you—going with you to Guardian HQ when you’re on duty—that makes sense. Staying with the other girls at HQ when you leave for missions? That works. I get it. I do.”

I lift my chin. “But there’ll come a time when I’ll need space. When I have to go places you can’t follow. I need to know if we can figure that out. Together.”

Hank’s eyes soften, but the dominance in them doesn’t waver. He steps closer, hands bracketing my hips—but not gripping, not claiming. Just… there. Grounding. Steady.

Gabe steps in behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders—strong, steady, unmistakably his. The heat of his body seeps into mine, anchoring me between them. He squeezes my shoulders gently, his voice dipping low and honest.

“We’re not here to take over your life, sweetheart, but you still need protection, which will limit some of what you can do.”

I look between them—these men who’ve taken me, claimed me, undone me—and for the first time, I let the questions spill out, raw and real.

“Protection? Would I still have the freedom to pursue my career? To spend late nights at the lab when a breakthrough is close? To travel for conferences without checking in every hour?” My voice rises, threads of fear tangled in every word. “Do I have to call and ask for permission before I grab drinks with colleagues after work?” My arms wrap tight around myself, an instinctive shield. “I want this… what we’re building, but I also need the life I was building beforewebecame anus. Can those coexist?”

“We want to be your foundation. Not your prison.” Hank’s eyes search mine, something fierce and tender burning behind them. “We don’t want you to feel trapped like your father made you feel.”

Gabe nods, closing the distance, his eyes locked on mine. “Your career, your doctorate, your ambitions—those are part of you. Diminishing them?” His fingers brush my cheek. “Would be diminishing you.”

My heart stutters.

“Boundaries don’t mean control over every breath you take,” Hank says, his hand curling around mine, his grip strong but careful. “They’re about safety. Respect. Communication. Not caging your spirit.”

I catch his shift in metaphor—from cages to spirit—both about freedom. The vise around my chest loosens. I thought they wanted more control for a moment, but I understand better now.

Gabe leans in, voice a breath against my skin. “Late nights at the lab? Conferences? Not a problem. We’d want check-ins, yes. Reasonable ones. We’d want that if we can be there and be your security. If we can’t, we’d like to ensure someone is watching overyou. Not hovering. Not suffocating.” His lips twitch into a smirk. “We’ll worry otherwise, but not because we don’t trust you.”

Hank’s thumb sweeps along my wrist, his voice threading heat through the air. “Your success matters to us. Your dreams matter. We want to support them, not suppress them. But we need to know you won’t skip out on your security.”

“If you’re staying late,” Gabe says, “tell us. If you’re traveling, let us know when you’re leaving and when you’ve arrived. That way, we know you’re safe if we’re not with you.”

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