44. Jonah
Jonah
I find her in the middle of the ops room.
Still.
Focused.
Barefoot, exhausted, hair pulled back messily from her face, staring at the screen like she can tear answers out of it by sheer force.
That’s my girl.
The thought lands before I can stop it.
And yeah.
I mean it.
“Sienna.”
She turns.
For one second, the whole room disappears.
Cal.
Lance.
Ronan.
The monitors.
Everything.
She sees me.
Really sees me.
And all that sharp control she’s wearing like armor cracks right down the middle.
Tears fill her eyes.
Then her face hardens instantly.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
She crosses the room fast, and I brace myself because the room tilts a little when I shift my weight.
Worth it.
“Missed you,” I say.
She stops in front of me, hands hovering near my chest, my side, my arm—like she wants to check every inch of me but doesn’t know where she’s allowed to touch first.
“You were shot.”
“I remember.”
“Jonah.”
“I’m fine.”
Her glare could cut steel.
“You are not fine.”
“Working on it.”
Her lips press together, but her eyes keep moving over me, checking the bandage beneath my shirt, the IV tape still stuck to my arm, the sweat breaking out along my temple.
She sees too much.
Always has.
I lower my voice. “You saw it?”
Everything in her expression changes.
The worry disappears behind something colder.
More dangerous.
“Yeah.”
“Real?”
She nods once.
“Real.”
That’s all I need.
“Then we go get her.”
Behind us, Ronan lets out a long groan. “Of course we do.”
Sienna doesn’t argue.
Doesn’t tell me I can’t.
Not yet.
Because she knows this stopped being about survival the second Elizabeth’s face appeared on that screen.
This is family now.
And I’ll burn the world down for mine.
Sienna looks back at me, and something soft moves through her eyes.
Soft.
But stronger than anything I’ve seen in her yet.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she says.
“Watch me.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It wasn’t for me either.”
For half a second, her mouth almost curves.
Tired.
Emotional.
Real.
“Stubborn,” she mutters.
“Only when I’m right.”
She exhales, shaking her head like I’m impossible.
Then she turns back toward the screen.
Elizabeth’s frozen face waits there under the harsh overhead light.
Sienna’s shoulders square.
When she speaks again, her voice is steady.
Certain.
Deadly.
“We’re going to find her.”
I step up beside her until our shoulders touch.
Pain rips through my side.
I ignore it.
“Yeah,” I say.
“We are.”