Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
I almost drop the phone. “That was all over the files we talked about. The agents who disappeared from the duty rosters… You don’t know what it means?”
“No. I don’t think I was meant to see it.”
I file that away for later, when I can slot it into the pattern I’m building in my head.
“This can’t be allowed to continue,” I say quietly.
“I know.” There’s no surprise in her tone. Only a hint of recognition. “Be careful, Raine.”
“You too. If you can…run. Please.”
Ellen pauses just long enough I think she might actually be considering it, then hangs up.
I pull the SIM, and snap it cleanly in half.
I return to the couch, the phone still warm in my hand.
The room tilts just enough to be noticeable.
My stomach roils, and the edges of things get loud all at once.
The refrigerator cycles, the electricity hums in the walls, and the distant sound of a car horn blares from the street.
I keep my feet planted on the floor and my eyes fixed on the far wall until the dizziness crests and hangs there.
It takes several breaths before I can get a handle on my body. After another few minutes, I find the words for what I’m feeling. It isn’t panic. More like…an aftershock.
Naming it helps. The room steadies, and the weight pressing down on me lifts enough I understand how to carry it.
The cost of staying in this fight is clear, but it isn’t only mine. Ellen will pay. Tessa too. And then there’s Asher. He’s a target because he didn’t walk away. Because he saw me when I couldn’t even see myself.
I brace a hand on the cushion, my equilibrium not quite solid enough to trust I won’t topple over if I’m not careful.
Tea. I need tea.
Halfway to the kitchen, I stop. Making tea, grounding myself in the ritual, the scent, and the warmth? It’ll settle my thoughts. Help clarify patterns before I try to dive back into the data.
But there’s something I want first.
Asher stands at the bedroom window, rolling his left shoulder slowly from front to back.
“How bad?” I ask.
He turns, his gaze locked on mine. I don’t look away. I don’t want to. I want to memorize everything about him. The small scar over his right eyebrow. The reddish tinge to his stubble. The hazel flecks in his blue eyes.
“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m just trying to keep it that way.”
He doesn’t ask how the call went. He knows I’ll tell him eventually.
I cross the room, not stopping until I’m close enough to breathe him in. “Can you hold me?”
Shock plays over his features for a beat. “Rules?”
“Not too tight.”
He waits, expecting more, and my heart flutters a little. I slip my arms around his waist, rest my forehead against his shoulder, and sync my breathing to his.
One of his hands rests at my lower back, the other slides into my hair. He doesn’t tighten his grip. Doesn’t press. Doesn’t cage me in.
When I first woke up here, I didn’t think I’d want to be touched ever again. Now, I’m starting to realize I’m ready for a lot more than his arms around me. Asher sees me in a way no one else ever has. In a way that’s allowed me to trust him as I relearn how to trust myself.
“This is bigger than I thought,” I say. “Ellen…she confirmed she’s been through it.” I pull back enough he can see my eyes. “She’s still going through it. If she doesn’t run, they’ll take her again, Asher. Soon.”
“Fuck. I can call Inara. Her K&R team might be able to get there first.”
“No. Ellen was a field agent. She wouldn’t want anyone else to put themselves at risk. She could have hung up on me. Instead, she gave me history. This isn’t new. She retired almost six years ago, and the program existed long before that. It might be as old as GSD itself.
“I have to see if there’s a way for me to access anything from internal GSD systems. Today. If I wait, more people will get hurt. People who should have been clear. People who have no idea this program even exists.”
He nods once. No argument. No push. “What do you need from me?”
I swallow. This part still costs me. “I need to know you’re choosing this,” I say. “Not because of me. Because you understand what it means.”
His hands don’t move, don’t tighten. His breathing doesn’t change. “I do,” he says. “And I am. Nothing’s changed there.”
I search his face for the hesitation I’ve found in the past when I’ve asked others for help and find only promise in his eyes.
“I’m going to ask you that a lot. Too much. Maybe every time something changes.”
His expression softens, and he shifts enough to touch his forehead to mine. “My answer will always be the same.”
For several long moments, I let myself be held. Then, with a sigh, tip my head up so I can kiss him. It’s brief. Soft and gentle in a way that soothes my nerves. “I don’t have a framework for this. For someone choosing me without conditions.”
Asher’s fingers flex once against my lower back. He lowers his mouth to mine, whispering against my lips, “Then we build one.”
The world narrows until we’re the only two people in it. Heat gathers somewhere deep and confusing, and I want to understand it. Map it. Act on it. But I can’t. Not yet. I have work to do.
I step back just enough to stand on my own. “I need some time to arrange all the pieces. Once I do that, I—we—can make the first move.”