Page 153 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
Vanessa stands in the doorway wearing an oversized MIT sweatshirt and shorts that look like she grabbed them off the floor. Her dark hair escapes from a messy bun in wisps that frame her face. Brown eyes rimmed red with exhaustion and tears she's been crying since she left the compound.
She looks like hell. Beautiful, brilliant hell that I caused.
"You look..." I start.
"Like shit?" She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive posture that puts distance between us despite the narrow hallway. "Yeah, well, that happens when someone you love makes you feel like a liability instead of a partner."
The words hit center mass. Direct impact that leaves no room for deflection or tactical maneuvering.
"That's why I'm here." I step closer, noting how she doesn't back down despite everything. "I need to tell you what really happened after you left."
"Do you?" Her voice carries exhaustion like weapon weight. "Because I'm pretty sure I got the message loud and clear. Ms. Reyes. Like I was some contractor you'd hired for a job."
"I never agreed with Kade." The words pour out faster than intended. "I told him no. Told him you weren't going anywhere. Defied a direct order for the first time in eight years."
Her defensive posture shifts slightly. Confusion replaces some of the hurt in her brown eyes.
"But you sat there. You didn't say anything when he was talking."
"I was calculating." I move another step closer, eliminating distance with surgical precision. "Figuring out how to fight for you without destroying everything we've built. I should have spoken up immediately. Should have defended us the second he opened his mouth."
Tears spill down her cheeks again, impossible to hide in the harsh hallway lighting.
"You let me think..." Her voice breaks. "I thought you were choosing them over me."
"I was choosing you." The confession comes out rough, like it scraped my throat raw. "I chose you over eight years of perfect obedience. Chose you over Kade's authority. Chose you over protocol that's kept me alive since I enlisted."
She stares at me like I'm speaking a foreign language. Like the possibility never occurred to her that someone might fight for her instead of pushing her away.
"Vanessa." I close the final distance between us, close enough to see gold flecks in her brown eyes. "I love you."
The words hang in the narrow hallway like smoke from gunfire. Simple. Direct. True.
Her breath catches. "Asher..."
"I've loved you since Ethiopian coffee. Since questions without calculatable answers. Since you challenged every assumption I had about control and made me realize that some chaos improves the equation instead of destroying it."
Her hands come up to touch my chest, fingers spread over kevlar and equipment straps. Contact that sends electricity through modified nerve pathways.
"I love you too." The words come out as whisper. "But what happens now? Kade still thinks—"
"Kade gave me an assignment." I cover her hands with mine, feeling her pulse through her fingertips. "Williams elimination. Routine work to prove I'm still operational. But I'm not doing it without you."
Her brilliant mind processes implications in seconds. "You want my help?"
"I need my partner." The correction comes out with absolute certainty. "Need the woman who makes me better at everything I do. Need you to prove that loving someone doesn't compromise effectiveness—it perfects it."
A smile breaks through her exhaustion like sunrise through fog. Quick, brilliant, beautiful enough to stop cardiac function.
"Then let's go prove Kade wrong." She steps back, energy returning to her movements. "Give me ten minutes to pack proper equipment. If we're doing this, we're doing it right."
I watch her disappear into her loft, noting the way confidence returns to her step. How purpose replaces hurt in her movements.
This is what tactical advantage looks like.
Not distance. Not isolation. Partnership.
The Ducati carries us through Sacramento traffic with Vanessa's arms wrapped around my waist, her tablet secured in her backpack. The familiar weight of her against my back feels like tactical advantage finally optimized.
