Page 101 of The Sniper

“It feels like it should be,” I whispered. “Like I should need more time. More proof. But I don’t.”

She nodded slowly. “Because there’s something about these men. About the way they love—how it’s total. Fierce. Immovable once they give it to you. You don’t have to earn it every day. You just have to hold it. And let it hold you back.”

I exhaled a shaky breath, my head falling against her shoulder. “What if I don’t get to hold him again?”

Anna rested her cheek gently against the top of my head.

“Then we’ll fall apart together,” she whispered. “And piece each other back together one breath at a time.”

I closed my eyes. And let myself believe that love like this could survive anything. I sat there a moment, feeling the steadiness of Anna’s presence beside me.

Then we shifted to logistics, like women do when their hearts are breaking but life demands to keep going.

“The church is in Estill,” I murmured, straightening. “My daddy’s church. It’s about two hours from here. I want to get there early … help my mama with whatever she needs. She shouldn’t have to handle the hard parts alone.”

Anna nodded. “We’ll make sure you get there in time.”

“We?” I glanced over.

“If you want,” she said.

I smiled. “I think I do want that. Thank you.”

Then I looked down, fingers curling in my lap. “I just keep wondering about Noah. Elias said he’d come get me if he heard anything, but … I don’t know. What if that was a way of preparing me? What if it meant bad news was coming?”

Anna didn’t answer right away.

We both jumped when the door creaked open behind us—not a knock, not a sound we expected. Just the quiet shift of hinges and the faint scrape of boot soles on hardwood.

I turned, heart lodged in my throat.

And there he was.

Noah.

Framed in the doorway like a ghost returned from war—beaten and bruised, a gash high on his temple, dried blood streaked along one cheek. His black shirt was torn at the collar, boots still wet and caked in river mud, like he’d fought his way through hell to get back to me.

But he was upright.

Breathing.

Alive.

His eyes found mine like they never stopped looking,and for one long second, we didn’t move. The world just stopped spinning.

Then he gave me the faintest, crooked smile.

“I told you I’d make it,” he said, voice rough and wrecked. “Think I’ve got time to find a tie?”

I choked on a sob and launched myself into his arms.

My knees buckled, and I would’ve fallen if he hadn’t caught me.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest, and I felt the tremble in him—deep, buried, the kind of shake that came after you’d stared death down and walked away anyway.

I clung to him.

Anna gasped softly behind me. “Atlas,” she whispered, then turned and bolted out the door, heels clicking down the hall.

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