Chapter 102 Carter
Carter
The bird heaved under us as we scrambled inside, the roar of the rotors drowning out everything but gunfire snapping past. Cyclone pulled me in last, my boots dragging over the metal floor as the pilot banked hard to the right, skimming low over the treetops.
Sable collapsed in a heap, his wrists still bound, his breath ragged. Even half-conscious from blood loss, he had the gall to grin. “You’re only alive because Redwood allows it,” he rasped.
I drove my boot into his chest, pinning him to the deck. “You’re alive because I allow it.”
River crouched near the open door, laying down return fire with short bursts as the valley dropped away beneath us. “Clear enough!” he shouted, slamming the door shut. The gunfire dulled, replaced by the steady chop of the rotors.
The cabin reeked of smoke and blood. Gideon leaned back, wiping sweat from his brow, laptop clutched tight in his lap again like it was the only thing holding us together. Cyclone’s arm was wrapped in a makeshift bandage, his jaw clenched but his eyes sharp.
And me—I sat on the floor, rifle across my knees, chest heaving. My body throbbed with pain, grazes burning, bruises blooming, but none of it mattered.
Because we’d made it.
The ridge was behind us. The ambush survived. Sable in custody.
I let my head tip back against the cold metal wall, the hum of the bird vibrating through me. Harper’s face filled my mind—the fire in her eyes, the strength in her voice, the way she whispered together.
I’d promised her I’d come back. And for the first time in hours, I knew I could keep that promise.
River met my gaze across the cabin, his voice calm but heavy. “This isn’t over, Carter. Redwood won’t stop.”
I nodded once, my hand tightening around the rifle. “Neither will I.”
Then I closed my eyes for a beat, just long enough to feel her hand in mine again, to anchor myself in the one truth stronger than all the fire and blood.
I wasn’t just fighting to survive.
I was fighting my way back home—to her.