Page 28 of Cyclone

He had feelings for me. I could see it in his eyes, hear it in the rough edges of his voice.

But he wouldn’t say it.

And I wasn’t ready to hear it.

Not yet.

Instead, I leaned my shoulder lightly against his and closed my eyes, letting the steady thrum of the helicopter and the solid presence of Cyclone anchor me.

Arizona.

The ranch.

A new beginning?

Maybe.

But first, we had to survive the end.

The long-haul transport was quieter,steadier than the jungle helicopters, but the tension inside me never loosened. We werefinally airborne, headed north, leaving behind the damp green chaos and flying into something else entirely.

Something mine.

Cyclone sat beside me, not touching, but close enough that I could feel his heat. I knew he was still on high alert, every muscle ready, every instinct sharp. It was a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed so badly. I’ve been taking care of myself for so long.

We were flying in a jet they rented. It was fast, and we rented another helicopter when we landed in California.

The Golden Team kept to themselves toward the rear of the cabin, giving us space. Maybe they sensed something brewing between Cyclone and me. Maybe they were just smart enough not to poke wounded wolves. Did they see my pain?

I pulled a crumpled map from my pack, the one I’d kept all these years, a relic of another life. Cyclone leaned in slightly to glance at it.

“How remote is it?” he asked.

“Remote enough. No paved roads. A few wells. One broken windmill.”

His mouth quirked up slightly at the corner. “Sounds charming.”

“It’s isolated,” I said. “That’s the point.”

For a while, we flew in silence, the hours stretching out, each mile putting distance between us and the nightmare behind.

At some point, Cyclone shifted, his voice low but firm.

“I’m going with you,” he said.

I stared out the small window, watching endless stretches of earth roll past beneath us.

“I’m not good at letting people in,” I admitted.

“I’m not good at walking away,” he said.

I turned to look at him, my throat tight.

“You don’t have to stay,” I said quietly.

Cyclone held my gaze, something fierce and unmovable behind his eyes.

“I told you. I’m not leaving until you’re safe.”

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