Page 57 of Damian
Oliver leaned over his shoulder, frowning. “And?”
Cyclone tapped the map on the screen. A cluster of red marks lit up. “One of the hubs. Not a feeder site. Command-level. Luthor’s people didn’t even try to bury it deep, which means it’s important. Too important.”
Damian’s arm tightened against me, his eyes narrowing on the screen. “That’s our next target. The DEA and FBI have been watching these people, but so far, they haven’t been able to catch them. I wonder how many are getting paid off.”
My stomach dipped. The idea of him walking into another fight after tonight—after a man had been at our door while he was gone—made my chest ache. But at the same time, I knew there was no choice. This was bigger than us.
Ruby spoke up suddenly, her voice quiet but firm. “That’s who was here, wasn’t it? Luthor’s men.”
The room went silent. Damian’s hand stilled on my back. Then he nodded once. “Yeah.”
Ruby swallowed, looking down at her blanket, then lifted her chin. “Then finish it. Make sure they can’t come back.”
Pride and sorrow twisted together in me. She was sixteen, but she was speaking like someone who’d lived through decades of fear.
Damian pressed his lips to my temple, a fleeting touch, then looked to the team. “We move at first light. No mistakes. We hit them before they even know we’ve got this lead.”
Cyclone nodded, already typing. Oliver checked his weapon again. Gage muttered something under his breath that sounded like a prayer.
And me? I sat there with Ruby’s hand clutching mine and Damian’s steady on my back, knowing this storm had a long way to go before it was out.
77
Morgan
Dawn came too soon.
The new safehouse was a flurry of quiet activity—boots thudding softly on the worn floorboards, gear shifting into packs, Cyclone muttering over his laptop one last time before shutting it down. Every sound felt amplified in the gray morning light, like the house itself knew we wouldn’t be back.
Ruby sat at the table, clutching a mug of tea she hadn’t touched. Her braid was messy, her hoodie too big, but her eyes were sharp and watchful. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t have to. She knew what it meant when men moved like this—like shadows already halfway into battle.
I stood near the window, fingers twisting together, my body buzzing with restless energy I couldn’t shake. Last night’s terror still lived under my skin, and yet layered over it was the memory of Damian’s arms, his kiss, the vow he’d breathed against my hair. The contrast left me raw, exposed.
Damian came up behind me, the faint scuff of his boots giving him away. He slid a hand around my waist, warm and steady. “You didn’t sleep,” he murmured.
“Neither did you.”
His mouth curved into the smallest smile. “Fair.”
I leaned back against him, just for a moment, letting myself take in the weight of him, the way his chest rose and fell like nothing—not even the fight waiting for him—could shake him. “Be careful,” I whispered.
His grip tightened. “Always.” Then, softer: “But I’ll be more careful knowing you’re waiting.”
My throat closed, my eyes stinging, but before I could answer, Cyclone cleared his throat from across the room. “We’re set. We’ve got a window of about four hours before they shift locations. If we don’t move now, we lose it.”
Damian’s arm fell away, and suddenly the space between us felt too wide. He moved back into commander mode—checking gear, giving orders, that edge in his voice that made every man snap to attention.
Ruby caught my eye. “He’ll come back,” she said quietly.
I nodded, but my heart twisted. Because I wanted to believe it with everything I had—but I also knew what it meant to love a man who lived in the line of fire.
When they finally filed toward the door, Damian paused, his eyes locking on mine. In front of everyone, he didn’t hesitate—he cupped my cheek, bent, and kissed me hard enough that I would know he was coming back.
But I didn’t care. I kissed him back, gripping his vest like I could hold him here. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against mine. “I’ll come back,” he said simply.
And then he was gone, the door shutting behind him, leaving me in the silence with Ruby and a house that suddenly felt far too empty.
78
