Chapter 55 Carter
Carter
The door to the bedroom closed soft, but the sound hit me harder than a slammed fist.
I stared at the map spread across the table, but I couldn’t see it. All I saw was Harper’s face—steady voice, trembling hands, eyes that burned with hurt even as she told me I couldn’t make the choice for her.
Damn it.
My fist curled tight against the wood, knuckles whitening. Every instinct screamed to keep her locked away, to carry the fight on my own shoulders like I’d done a thousand times before. That was who I was. That was what I knew.
But this wasn’t a warzone where civilians were faceless dots on a grid. This was Harper. And every time I tried to draw the line between protecting her and controlling her, I saw the same thing in her eyes—disappointment. Distance.
I couldn’t lose her to a bullet.
But I couldn’t lose her to mistrust either.
River’s chair scraped back. He stood, studying me with that quiet weight he carried. “You can’t keep her in the dark forever, Carter. She’s not the type to stay behind.”
I didn’t answer, jaw locked tight.
Gideon leaned in, his tone blunt. “She deserves more than walls and orders. You love her—so let her stand with you. Otherwise, when this is over, you’ll have saved her body but lost her heart.”
Their words cut, sharper than any blade. Because they weren’t wrong.
I dragged a hand over my face, the rough scrape of stubble grounding me. I thought of Harper’s hand in mine, of her whisper in the SUV—Don’t die for me. Live with me.
And I realized the truth.
Protecting her didn’t mean smothering her. It meant finding a way to fight this together, even if it tore me apart inside.
I pushed away from the table, my decision heavy but clear.
If Harper wanted the truth, she’d get it. All of it.
But God help me, if it put her in more danger than she already was, I didn’t know if I could live with myself.