Page 37 of Carter
“Yeah,” I said, pushing off the wall. My voice came out rougher than I meant. “I’m with you. But listen—whatever we do, Harper doesn’t leave my sight. Not for a second.”
Gideon raised a brow. “She’s already in the middle of this,whether you like it or not. Keeping her in the dark isn’t going to work forever.”
The words cut, but I didn’t flinch. “I’m not putting her in the line of fire.”
River leaned back, studying me with that calm, unreadable look of his. “Nobody’s saying you are. But if she’s marked, then hiding her isn’t enough. We need to find out who’s behind this, and we need to end it.”
Cyclone slid a phone across the table. “Pulled this off one of the bodies from the stairwell. It’s encrypted, but if we break it, we might get a name.”
My jaw clenched as I stared at it. A name. A target. That was all I needed.
Because every hour Harper was hunted was another hour my control slipped. And if it came down to it, I’d put a bullet in whoever thought they could use her as leverage.
“I’ll take point on whatever comes next,” I said flatly.
River’s gaze narrowed. “You sure you can keep your head straight on this?”
I didn’t answer. Because the truth was, no—I couldn’t. Not where Harper was concerned.
But that didn’t matter. What mattered was ending this before the storm reached her again.
I glanced toward the hallway once more, listening for the quiet sound of her breathing.
She was my mission now. And God help anyone who tried to take her from me.
51
Carter
Hours bled into the night, the glow from the table lamps throwing long shadows across the cabin walls. River and Gideon worked the phone, their quiet curses telling me how stubborn the encryption was. Cyclone patrolled outside, the crunch of his boots on the gravel steady and predictable.
And me? I stayed where I could see down the hall.
Every time the floor creaked or the faint shift of a bedspring reached my ears, my chest eased. Harper was still there. Breathing. Alive. That was all that mattered.
“Almost got it,” Gideon muttered, fingers flying across his keyboard. “Whoever set this up wasn’t playing around.”
“Which means it’s worth the trouble,” River said. He glanced at me, his eyes sharp. “When we crack it, we move. Fast.”
I gave a short nod, but my focus kept drifting. My rifle sat across my knees, safety off, ready. I hadn’t been able to shake the image of that stairwell—shadows rushing, Harper’s voice crying my name. It replayed over and over, a loop I couldn’t kill.
The bedroom door creaked, soft. My head snapped up.
Harper stood there in the doorway, her hair tangled from sleep, one of my flannels hanging loose around her shoulders. Her eyes were shadowed, but steady as they found me.
“You should be resting,” I said, my voice lower than I intended.
She crossed the room slowly, barefoot, until she was close enough to touch. “So should you.”
For a moment, the war on the table behind me didn’t exist. It was just her—the woman every enemy seemed to want to break, and the only reason I’d never stop fighting.
River cleared his throat, not unkindly. “We’ll give you two a minute.”
He and Gideon disappeared onto the porch, leaving us in the quiet hum of electronics.
Harper’s hand brushed mine, soft, grounding. “Don’t shut me out, Carter. I can see it in your face—you’ve already decided what comes next, and you’re planning to keep me in the dark.”
I swallowed hard, every instinct screaming to keep her shielded. But her eyes held me, fierce and unyielding.
