Page 20 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Like he’s considering something.

Like he’s holding back.

Then I turn to Gabe. His hug is just as brief, but where Hank holds tension, Gabe holds promise. His cheek brushes my temple as he pulls away, the touch so fleeting it could be accidental.

But I know better.

Nothing about them is accidental. Not the way their eyes track me. Not the way their movements feel effortless—like they know how to navigate a woman between them.

And I can’t stop wondering what that would feel like.

“We hope so,” Gabe murmurs, warmth in his tone but something darker in his gaze. An invitation.

Hank nods, his voice rough, unreadable. “Take care of yourself, luv.”

A simple goodbye. But the way it settles in my bones, the way my skin still tingles where they touched me—this doesn’t feel like an ending. It feels like a beginning.

If I’m brave enough to takethe next step.

I settle into the car, closing the door with a dull thud. My father slides in beside me, already pulling out his phone to handle the logistics of whisking me back home. I watch Hank and Gabe through the window until they disappear from view. A quiet emptiness settles in my chest, but I push it aside. There’s so much to process, so much to confront.

Then it hits me—a sudden realization that chills my blood. My USB was in the pocket of my clothes. I changed out of them on the plane and left them behind in my rush to shower off the dust of the steppe. My heart seizes.

“Dad, wait—” My voice catches, and he pauses, one hand mid-text. “I… I forgot something.”

Chapter 8

My father lifts an eyebrow,concern flickering across his face. “What is it?”

“My USB drive,” I blurt, panic tightening my chest. “It has all my research—everything. I can’t lose it.”

Dad frowns. “We can reach out to their command post, coordinate?—”

“No.” My fingers tighten around the car door handle, my pulse quickening. “I need to talk to Hank or Gabe.” The words slip out too fast, too desperate. I swallow hard, forcing down the anxiety clawing up my throat. “They’ll know where to look. Or at least check where I changed.”

I leave out the part where they were the ones who peeled away my ruined clothes.

My father watches me, sharp and assessing, but I can’t meet his gaze. It’s not just about the USB. I could let my father handle it, trust the system to get it back. But that would mean walking away. Letting go. And I’m not ready. Not yet.

Dad exhales sharply, snapping his phone shut. “All right. We’ll turn back and see if we can catch them.”

Relief crashes over me, a rush so intense I can barely sit still. Asthe town car circles back toward the tarmac, my pulse kicks up, anticipation thrumming beneath my skin.

Then I see them. In the distance, Hank and Gabe move equipment into a Guardian-branded SUV, their movements efficient, practiced—completely unaware that I’m coming back.

“There.” I point, my voice strained with urgency. “They’re still here.”

A knot of tension unwinds inside me, but a different kind of nervous energy takes its place. This isn’t just about the USB drive. It’s a second chance—one I never thought I’d get.

Dad raps on the partition, telling the driver to stop. The moment the car halts, I throw the door open and hurry out, ignoring the twinges of pain in my battered body.

“Hank! Gabe!” I call, jogging toward them. They turn, concern sharpening their expressions when they see my face.

“What’s wrong?” Gabe asks, stepping forward, hand already lifting as though to steady me.

I take in a shaky breath. “I… my USB drive. It has all my postdoc data—everything I was working on—” My voice quavers. “I left it in the pocket of my clothes. I didn’t realize until just now. I have to get it.”

A flicker of understanding crosses Hank’s features. “We’ll find it,” he says without hesitation.

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