Page 106 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Relief floods her expression. “Just for today. Nothing complicated—maybe run the register while Jenna handles the coffee? I swear it’s easier than quantum physics.”

I laugh despite myself. “Well, how can I refuse when you put it that way?” The prospect of being useful, of having somewhere to belong, even temporarily, is surprisingly appealing.

Malia beams, reaching behind the counter to grab a spare apron. “You’re a lifesaver. And who knows—you might even enjoy it.”

As she hands me the apron and begins a quick rundown of the register system, the door chimes, announcing the arrival of the first wave of post-meeting survivors needing a caffeine injection to finish their day.

They pour in like a tactical unit, eyes slightly glazed from hours of briefings and strategy discussions, their collective energy screaming “coffee or collapse.”

“And so it begins,” Malia mutters, straightening her shoulders as she shifts into battle mode. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this.” I tie the apron around my waist and take a deep breath, nodding with more confidence than I feel.

The line forms quickly—dozens of Guardian operatives and admin staff, each more desperate for caffeine than the last. I position myself at the register, grateful for my quick memory as I punch in orders while Malia and Jenna work the machines behind me.

Chapter 31

The afternoon rushat Guardian Grind finally subsides around five, leaving me with a moment to breathe. My feet ache from standing, but a strange satisfaction comes with in the physical fatigue—so different from the mental exhaustion of quantum calculations.

“You’re a natural,” Malia says, bumping her hip against mine as we wipe down the counters. “Sure you don’t want to ditch physics and become a full-time barista?”

I laugh, tossing my cleaning rag into the small bucket. “I think I’ll stick with fusion reactors. Less pressure.”

“Fair enough.” She glances at the clock, then back at me with a contemplative look. “So, the guys are gone for the night… ”

“Looks that way,” I sigh, trying not to let my disappointment show. The memory of their abrupt departure still stings, though I understand the necessity.

“Which means,” Malia continues, her eyes lighting up with sudden inspiration, “it’s the perfect time for Charlie’s Angels to assemble.”

“Charlie’s Angels?” Jenna calls from where she’s restocking the pastry case. “Are you still trying to get that to stick?”

Malia grins, already pulling out her phone. “Damn right. Movie night. Sophia’s place. I’m calling everyone.”

“Everyone?” I ask, suddenly nervous at the prospect of socializing with a group of women I barely know.

“The whole crew,” Malia confirms, fingers already flying across her screen. “You, me, Jenna, Sophia, Rebel, and Mia. It’s about time you all properly met.”

Jenna nods approvingly. “Sophia’s got Luke. My place is better—it’s just down the hall from Sophia’s. So, she can be close to Luke, and Ally, you can crash in my guest room.”

“Luke?”

“Sophia’s son,” Jenna says. “She has a five-year-old. He was held hostage by Malfor to force her cooperation. Long story.”

Malia pauses her texting to look at me. “This okay with you? I know it’s a lot of new people at once.”

The concern in her voice touches me. After months of isolation at Malfor’s compound, large gatherings still make me anxious, but these aren’t just any women. They’re connected to me in ways few others could understand.

“Yeah,” I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect!” Malia’s smile is radiant as she returns to her phone. “Proper Charlie’s Angels initiation night it is.”

Two hours later, I find myself curled up on one end of Jenna’s oversized sectional, a glass of wine in hand and a bowl of popcorn within reaching distance.

A large German Shepherd with watchful eyes and a distinctive scar on his flank lies at Jenna’s feet, occasionally lifting his head to survey the room before settling back down with a contented sigh. The apartment is larger than I expected—a spacious two-bedroom on the third floor of one of Guardian HQ’s residential buildings. Modern but comfortable, with soft lighting and plush furnishings.

“This is Max,” Jenna says fondly, scratching behind the German Shepherd’s ears. “Technically, he’s Carter’s, but I’mhis person now.”

“He took a bullet for her,” Malia explains. “Since then, he barely leaves her side.”

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