Page 10 of Carter
“You done?” he asked, nodding toward my cup.
I arched a brow. “Why?”
“Because I’m not ready to let you disappear just yet.” His voice was easy, but his eyes said he meant every word.
Heat curled low in my stomach. I stood, slipping the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “I was planning to walk home.”
He rose too, moving with that controlled grace I’d noticed the first night. “Then I’ll walk with you.”
I should’ve said no. Independence was second nature; letting someone into my space wasn’t. But the truth? The truth was, I wanted to see what it felt like to have Carter Robinson beside me when the world wasn’t burning down.
“Suit yourself,” I said, pushing the door open.
The morning air was bright, the sidewalks alive with families and tourists. Carter matched his pace to mine, hands tucked into his pockets, scanning the street like it was instinct. Maybe it was.
“You always walk alone?” he asked.
“Yeah. Why? You going to tell me it’s dangerous?”
He gave me a sidelong look, one corner of his mouth tugging. “You of all people know how dangerous it is to walk alone.”
“Thanks for… the company,” I said.
He nodded, gaze steady on mine. “Anytime, Harper. I meant that.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. The city hummed around us, but the space between us was sharp and quiet, like the second before a storm. His hand flexed at his side, like he wanted to close the distance but wasn’t sure if he should.
“Get some sleep,” he said finally, voice softer now.
I managed a nod, though my pulse was a drumbeat under my skin. “You too.”
He stepped back then, but his eyes lingered, as if walking away cost him more than he’d admit. I turned toward thestairs, heart hammering, the weight of his presence still shadowing me long after he was gone.
10
Harper
I’d just finished checking charts when the overhead speaker cracked to life.
“Code Gray, ER. Code Gray.”
My stomach dropped. Security threat.
The hallway snapped awake—nurses ducking into rooms, orderlies pressing patients back into beds. I moved toward the nurses’ station, scanning for the source. That’s when I saw him.
Carter.
Not in jeans and a ball cap this time. Black tactical gear, radio in his ear, every line of him wound tight. He shouldn’t have been here, not like this. But the second his eyes found mine, the world narrowed.
“What’s going on?” I asked, meeting him halfway.
“Possible sighting,” he said, low and clipped. “Guy with the red rose tattoo. Same ring we shut down months ago. Your hospital might be his target.”
A rush of ice slid through me. “Why here?”
“Because someone inside is helping them,” he answered. “And because they know you were there that night.”
The walls pressed closer. Before I could form words, shouts erupted down the hall. Two security guards wrestled a man in scrubs who fought like he had nothing to lose. The compass rose ink glared on his wrist.
