Page 50 of Ranger's Honor
"We made it," I whisper.
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Soaked and silent. My hand stays glued to his chest like I need to keep checking that he’s breathing.
He is, but just barely.
Ahead of us, headlights slash through the fog as Rush and Gideon roll in—their truck cutting a slow arc across the warehouse lot, engine rumbling low, headlights spearing through the mist like a warning. They leap out the moment they spot us, boots hitting pavement in synchronized urgency.
"Jesus Christ," Gideon mutters, catching me before my knees give. His voice sparks a complicated rush—relief that my brother’s here, dread for the lecture I know is coming. My body wants to fold into the safety he represents, but pride locks my spine even as his hands steady me. His gaze skims for injuries, and when his jaw tightens, it’s not from concern—it’s fury, directed squarely at Dalton.
"What the hell were you thinking? Letting her go in there alone?"
Dalton doesn’t flinch. "That's where the last of the data was—the stuff that Sookie didn’t have.”
“That's what I was thinking, but why did she have to get it?” asks Gideon, clearly annoyed.
“She’s alive so I don't know what you're bitching at me about?" snarls Dalton.
"You were supposed to protect her, not drag her into..."
"Let me be clear big brother, I dragged myself," I cut in, my voice rough but steady. "This was my call, Gideon. I planned it. I led the Reaper here. Dalton and the rest of you had my back. The Reaper never had a chance."
His gaze swings back to me, hard and wounded all at once. "You’re my sister."
"Exactly," I say. "And I knew what I was doing. You made sure I knew how to take care of myself, and you've always said there's nobody better at this kind of thing than Team W."
Gideon presses his lips together, torn between frustration and pride. He looks at Dalton one more time, then back at me, nodding once.
"Then let’s make sure it counts."
Rush whistles low, his eyes flicking toward the warehouse before settling on Dalton's blood-smeared face. "That was one hell of a fight. You two okay?"
Dalton doesn’t respond right away. His jaw flexes, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, like he's still in fight mode.
"We’re standing," I answer for both of us, voice hoarse.
Rush steps closer, his usual calm edged with something harder. "Standing's not the same as okay. You look like you both went ten rounds with the devil."
Dalton finally lifts his eyes, sharp, but with humor dancing in them. "Felt more like fifteen."
Rush’s hand claps his shoulder, firm. "You did what needed doing. But you’re not carrying it alone. Not this time." He turns to me, his voice gentler. "You held your ground, Kari. Your mate and your brother should be proud."
"We are. I'm just glad it's done," Dalton rasps.
"At long last, the Reaper is dead," Gideon growls. "Let’s get this place cleaned up before it draws flies—or worse."
Deacon materializes from the shadows, sniper rifle slung across his back, his face grim and unreadable. His gaze flicks to the warehouse, then back to us. "Sniper nest’s clear. I’ll help sweep the yard."
"Feed’s clean," Gage confirms, jogging up from the mobile command unit, tablet in hand. "No digital evidence of the transformation. I already started scrubbing the satellite echo."
Dalton nods once, tight and exhausted. "Burn the hard drives. I want the only record of this in her hands."
"Copy that," Gage says, already turning away.
I hesitate, then step closer. "Gage—thank you. For cleaning the feed. For watching our backs."
He pauses and glances over his shoulder, eyebrows lifting in something close to surprise. "You got it."
My fingers twitch at my side. "Everything I downloaded... it matters. Sookie died for it. People need to see what she uncovered."
