Chapter 45 Carter
Carter
The night air bit cold against my skin, but it was the sound behind us—the shouts, the echo of boots, the metallic clang of the stairwell door—that kept my blood sharp. We weren’t clear yet. Not even close.
“Vehicle’s two blocks out,” Gideon muttered, his voice tight as he spoke into his comm. “Cyclone’s bringing it around, ETA four minutes.”
Four minutes might as well have been a lifetime.
“River, left flank. Gideon, cover rear. I’ve got Harper,” I ordered, my grip firm on her arm as we cut into the alley. My eyes scanned everything—windows, rooftops, the sliver of streetlights spilling across the pavement. Every shadow was a threat.
Harper stumbled once on broken asphalt, and I tightened my hold, pulling her into my chest for a second. “Stay with me,” I murmured, my voice low but fierce.
“I am,” she whispered back, her breath ragged, her eyes searching mine. For an instant, the chaos faded, and all I saw was her trust. Fragile. Fierce. Absolute.
I forced myself to look away, to keep moving. Trust was a luxury in a warzone, and that’s exactly what this city had become.
We reached the end of the alley. River signaled clear, then darted across the open stretch, rifle sweeping side to side. I pulled Harper with me, every muscle coiled tight, ready to throw myself between her and whatever came next.
Headlights appeared down the block, engine revving low and fast. Relief loosened my chest only an inch. Cyclone’s SUV slid to a stop, the side door already open, his hand gripping the wheel tight.
“Get in, now,” he barked.
I boosted Harper up first, my palm on her hip, shoving her into the relative safety of steel walls and bulletproof glass.
Only when she was inside, eyes wide and locked on me, did I climb in after her.
River and Gideon followed, the door slamming shut just as another round of gunfire cracked in the distance.
The SUV lurched forward, tires squealing.
I pulled Harper against me, one arm around her shoulders, my rifle resting across my lap. My heart was still pounding like I was on the stairwell.
This wasn’t over. Whoever was coming for her had reach. They’d found us once, they’d try again.
I bent my head, my lips brushing the crown of her hair. “They’re not taking you, Harper,” I swore, my voice raw, meant for her ears alone. “Not while I’m breathing.”
And as the city lights blurred past, I made myself a promise.
Next time, I wouldn’t just react.
Next time, I’d take the fight to them.