Chapter 29 Harper
Harper
The moment Carter shut the last lock, I felt the world shrink down to the four walls around us. His space wasn’t what I expected—plain, solid, almost spartan—but every inch of it felt safe simply because he was here.
Safe. The word was foreign, trembling in my chest like it wasn’t sure it belonged to me.
I sat where he told me to, perched on the edge of his couch, and watched him circle the apartment with military precision.
Every window checked, every latch tested, every shadow scanned.
He was a storm contained in human form, and I could see the strain pulling at him.
His shoulders stiff, his jaw locked tight, his eyes never at rest.
Part of me wanted to tell him to sit down, to breathe. Another part of me couldn’t stop drinking him in, like if I let my gaze slip for even a second, he might vanish and I’d be back in that warehouse, alone.
When he finally came to me, dropping to one knee and cupping my face like I was something fragile, my heart cracked. Because the truth was, I wasn’t fragile—I was broken. Bruised in places no medic could reach, haunted by the echo of a voice whispering you’re marked now.
“Carter…” I whispered, my fingers brushing the scrape along his jaw. I needed to touch him, to anchor myself to something real. “I’m not as strong as you think.”
His forehead touched mine, his breath warm, steadying. “You’re stronger than you know. But you don’t have to be alone anymore. I’ve got you.”
The words nearly undid me. Because I’d been alone for so long, teaching myself how to stand when everything inside me wanted to collapse. And now here he was, offering to carry some of that weight like it was the easiest promise in the world.
I curled against his chest, listening to the furious drum of his heartbeat under my ear. The sound should’ve been comforting, but all I could think was how much it cost him—every second he was wound so tight, ready to fight for me, bleed for me.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, the words burning on my tongue.
His arms tightened around me instantly. “Good,” he murmured roughly into my hair. “Fear keeps us sharp. But no one’s going to touch you again, Harper. Not while I’m breathing.”
I believed him. God help me, I believed him more than I believed my own strength.
And for the first time since the nightmare began, I let myself close my eyes and rest.