Page 99 of Cyclone

We’d built something here.

We’d planted flowers out back, put up shelves I never used, and even picked out a mailbox. A real one. Black metal, bolted into the post with both of our names painted across it in crooked white script.

Jude + Cyclone.

A life.

A home.

A future.

He looked up and caught me staring, that crooked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“See something you like?”

I stepped outside and dropped into the chair beside him, tucking my legs up and stealing the beer from his hand.

“Yeah,” I said, sipping. “I seeeverythingI want.”

He reached over and laced our fingers together, his thumb brushing over my ring finger—not rushing, not asking, just...waiting.

One day.

When we were ready.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid of tomorrow.

Because no matter what came next...

I wouldn’t face it alone.

The End

Keep Reading For More Of The Golden Team

OLIVER

Prologue

Emery

The silence after a swim was always the best part.

Muscles humming, lungs burning, heart still thundering from the last lap—it was the kind of silence that came with peace.

With control.

I toweled off my hair, tossed the damp cloth over my shoulder, and headed toward the locker room. The humid air curled around my ankles like steam off the water.

It was after hours. The whole facility was empty, lights dimmed. Just how I liked it.

Private.

Safe.

When I signed the contract, they promised top-tier training, total seclusion, no cameras, and no press.

But they forgot to mention the men with guns.

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