Chapter 11 Elara
Elara
The door opened, and there he was.
Broad shoulders filling the frame, shadow cutting across the floor, eyes pinned on me like he was already calculating the distance between his gun and my chest. Beckett Cole. My guard. My executioner, if it came to that.
I forced myself not to move. Not to fidget. Not to show that the sight of him standing in my space sent my pulse skittering. Hydra had drilled it into me long ago: fear is leverage, never let them see it.
So I straightened my blouse, lifted my chin, and met his stare head-on. “Couldn’t stay away?”
The corner of his mouth didn’t twitch—no smirk, no crack of humor. Just that steady, unreadable look. The kind that made me wonder if he’d already mapped every weak point in me.
He didn’t answer right away. He just stepped farther inside, slow, deliberate, as though he owned the air between us. And God help me, part of me wanted him to.
“You think I need guarding?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light, controlled.
His gaze swept over me—shoulders, bandage, hands still clasped too tightly at my sides. He didn’t blink. “I think Hydra wants you back,” he said, low. “And until I know why, you’re not alone.”
The words should have felt like chains. They didn’t. They felt like a shield I hadn’t asked for, hadn’t dared to hope for. Beckett Cole was going to guard me.
But I couldn’t let him see that. So I gave him the only weapon I had left: a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t break.”
He stepped closer. Close enough that I caught the faint scent of gun oil and clean sweat, the battlefield clinging to him even here. His voice dropped to a rasp that made my chest tighten. “Everybody breaks, Voss. The question is who puts you back together.”
My mask nearly slipped then—nearly. The truth clawed at my throat: I wanted it to be him. I wanted to believe he could.
But I was Hydra’s creation, whether I liked it or not. And wanting was dangerous.
So I held his gaze, even as my heart hammered, and gave him the same answer I gave everyone who thought they could own me. “No one.”
For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Not victory. Not anger. Something else. Something I didn’t dare name.
He didn’t press. Didn’t call my bluff. Just nodded once, like he’d filed away the lie for later, and turned to stand guard by the door.
My knees felt weak, but I managed to stay upright. Because Beckett Cole might keep me safe from Hydra, but no one could keep me safe from the way he was already dismantling the walls I’d spent years building.