Page 47 of Carter
Then memory returned—Graves, the contracts, my name at the top of the list. The illusion cracked, sharp and bitter.
I turned my face into Carter’s chest, eyes burning. He stirred instantly, the soldier never fully at rest, his arm tightening around me. “Harper?”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
He tipped my chin up, his thumb brushing my cheek. His eyes—storm-dark, unyielding—searched mine. “Don’t lie to me. Please tell me.”
Something inside me broke at that. The tears came hot and fast, spilling before I could stop them. “I keep thinking it’s not over. That even with Graves gone, they’ll keep coming. That I’ll never be more than a target.”
Carter’s jaw flexed, his gaze fierce. “You’re not a target. You’re the reason I’m still breathing. You’re the reason I’ll burn down every name, every list, until there’s nothing left to hunt you.”
The vow was raw, jagged with fury and love, and it cut right through my fear.
I pressed my forehead to his, my voice shaking but sure. “Then I’ll fight too. Not just to survive. For us. For the life we deserve when this is over.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We just breathed each other in, tangled in warmth and promises too big to say out loud.
But even as my chest steadied, I knew this quiet couldn’t last. The war was still out there, and Carter wouldn’t stop until it was over.
And this time, I wasn’t going to let him face it alone.
68
Carter
By the time the sun was high over the trees, the cabin was alive with quiet movement. Gideon hunched over the table, lines of code and data flickering on his laptop. River paced the porch with his comm, his voice low and steady as he checked in with outside contacts. Cyclone had already gone for another perimeter sweep, his boots crunching over gravel and pine needles.
And me? I sat at the table with a rifle across my lap, cleaning each piece with methodical precision. My eyes drifted every few seconds to the hall, to the bedroom door where Harper still rested.
Her words replayed in my head like a vow carved in stone:I’ll fight too. Not just to survive. For us.
God help me, part of me wanted to lock that door, stand guard, and never let her cross the threshold again. But another part—the part that knew Harper wasn’t made to be hidden—understood what she meant. She wasn’t asking for danger. She was asking for honesty. For partnership.
River stepped back inside, sliding his comm into his vest. “Word is spreading. Graves’ death rattled cages. Thenetwork’s shifting, regrouping. If we move fast, we can track the flow of money and find who’s next in line.”
“Names?” I asked. My voice came out harder than I intended.
“Too early,” River said. “But Gideon’s working on it. Whoever’s behind this isn’t sloppy. They’ll bury the trail deep.”
I set the rifle aside, leaning forward, my hands braced against the table. “Then we dig deeper. I don’t care how far this goes. I want every name, every safehouse, every account. Until there’s nothing left to threaten her.”
Gideon glanced up from his laptop. “That’s not a mission, Carter. That’s a crusade.”
“Damn right it is.”
The room went quiet, heavy with the truth of it. This wasn’t just about closing an op anymore. This was personal.
The bedroom door creaked then, and Harper stepped into the room. My flannel still hung loose around her shoulders, her hair tangled from sleep, but her eyes—God, her eyes—were steady as they met mine.
I rose to my feet before I even realized it, the soldier in me bristling at the thought of her hearing too much, too soon. But the man in me—the one who loved her—stayed rooted, waiting.
Because I’d promised her the truth. And this time, I wasn’t going to shut her out.
69
Harper
The air in the cabin felt heavier when I stepped into the room, as if the walls themselves had absorbed Carter’s vow.I want every name, every safehouse, every account. Until there’s nothing left to threaten her.
