Page 48 of Carter
All their eyes shifted toward me, but it was Carter’s gaze that pinned me in place. Fierce. Unyielding. A man who looked like he was ready to burn down the world if it meant I’d be safe.
Part of me wanted to run into his arms and let that promise be enough. But another part—the part that had been trapped in the dark, listening to men whisper my name like it was a prize—knew better.
If Carter fought this fight alone, he’d lose more than blood. He’d lose pieces of himself, one by one, until there was nothing left but the soldier.
And I couldn’t love only the soldier. I needed the man too.
“I heard you,” I said softly, forcing my voice to stay steady. “And I know you mean it. But this can’t just be about tearing them down. It has to be about building something for us, too.”
Carter’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing against the table. “Harper—”
“No,” I cut in, sharper than I intended. My chest ached, but I pressed forward. “I can’t be the reason you lose yourself. I don’t want to be protected so fiercely that there’s nothing left of you when it’s over.”
For a long beat, the room was silent except for the hum of Gideon’s laptop.
Carter’s eyes softened, just a fraction, but it was enough. His voice was raw when he finally answered. “You won’t lose me. Not to them. Not to this. I swear it.”
Something in me unclenched, but the ache didn’t vanish. Because I knew he believed those words—but I also knew what it cost him to carry them.
I crossed the room and slid my hand into his, threading our fingers together in front of everyone. Let them see. Let them know.
“We fight together,” I said, quiet but certain.
His grip tightened, and this time, he didn’t argue.
70
Carter
Her hand was small but steady in mine, her voice cutting through the silence of the cabin.“We fight together.”
Every instinct in me screamed to push back, to shield her from the blood and dirt and fire waiting outside these walls. But the look in her eyes stopped me cold. Fierce. Unmovable. The same look I’d seen when she stood in that warehouse, chained but unbroken.
Damn it. She wasn’t asking. She was telling me who she was.
And if I tried to smother that, I’d lose her anyway. Not to a bullet—but to the walls I kept building around us.
River leaned back in his chair, studying the two of us with that quiet, assessing calm. Gideon didn’t even bother hiding his smirk as he tapped at the laptop. Cyclone came in from the porch, shaking his head like he’d expected this all along.
“You’ve got yourself a fighter, Carter,” River said finally.
“I know,” I muttered.
Harper’s fingers squeezed mine, grounding me. And forthe first time, I didn’t see her as someone I had to lock away to keep safe. I saw her as part of the reason I’d survive this.
I turned back to the table, my voice sharp again but steady. “Then we adjust the plan. I don’t want her in the line of fire, but she’s in the room. She hears everything. No secrets.”
River gave a short nod. Gideon’s smirk faded into something like respect. Cyclone set his rifle against the wall, crossing his arms.
The soldier in me hated it. Every bone in my body still itched to drag Harper back to the bedroom, bolt the door, and stand guard until the world forgot her name.
But the man in me—the one who loved her—knew this was the only way we’d both make it out whole.
I glanced down at her, meeting her gaze. “Together,” I said quietly.
And for the first time, the vow didn’t feel like surrender.
It felt like strength.
