Chapter 69 Harper
Harper
The air in the cabin felt heavier when I stepped into the room, as if the walls themselves had absorbed Carter’s vow. I want every name, every safehouse, every account. Until there’s nothing left to threaten her.
All their eyes shifted toward me, but it was Carter’s gaze that pinned me in place. Fierce. Unyielding. A man who looked like he was ready to burn down the world if it meant I’d be safe.
Part of me wanted to run into his arms and let that promise be enough. But another part—the part that had been trapped in the dark, listening to men whisper my name like it was a prize—knew better.
If Carter fought this fight alone, he’d lose more than blood. He’d lose pieces of himself, one by one, until there was nothing left but the soldier.
And I couldn’t love only the soldier. I needed the man too.
“I heard you,” I said softly, forcing my voice to stay steady. “And I know you mean it. But this can’t just be about tearing them down. It has to be about building something for us, too.”
Carter’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing against the table. “Harper—”
“No,” I cut in, sharper than I intended. My chest ached, but I pressed forward. “I can’t be the reason you lose yourself. I don’t want to be protected so fiercely that there’s nothing left of you when it’s over.”
For a long beat, the room was silent except for the hum of Gideon’s laptop.
Carter’s eyes softened, just a fraction, but it was enough. His voice was raw when he finally answered. “You won’t lose me. Not to them. Not to this. I swear it.”
Something in me unclenched, but the ache didn’t vanish. Because I knew he believed those words—but I also knew what it cost him to carry them.
I crossed the room and slid my hand into his, threading our fingers together in front of everyone. Let them see. Let them know.
“We fight together,” I said, quiet but certain.
His grip tightened, and this time, he didn’t argue.