Chapter 19
19
T he days blur into weeks, time slipping by unnoticed. It didn’t take long for me to fall into their rhythm. Every morning, Whit makes breakfast before we get to work.
They follow their training schedule religiously, and today is hand-to-hand combat—my favorite. That has absolutely nothing to do with their sweat-slicked, half-naked bodies as they throw each other around.
Nope.
Not at all.
The rest of the time, when they’re not training, they’re preparing for the upcoming mission—one I’m thrilled to be a part of. Especially after learning they only eliminate the worst of the worst. I feel charged, alive with purpose. Like I finally belong.
Not trapped.
Not forced. Just… part of it.
I doubt this is what Josiah envisioned when he sent me to the Covenant’s college—which only makes it more satisfying. Who knew those skills would find their purpose here, woven seamlessly into the art of killing?
Over the next couple days, we’ll fine-tune every detail. Beckett insists on running through each possible scenario multiple times—which I truly appreciate. Quinn handles the last-minute adjustments to their gear, checking for defects, while Whit ensures they have every tool and weapon necessary for any situation that might arise.
The target is a man named Jonah Richter—a name that meant nothing to me a few days ago but now sends a shiver through me. He’s a weapons dealer with no scruples about who he sells to, as long as they pay. Many of his customers leave a trail of innocent bodies in their wake. The images from one of his clients’ most recent attacks made me want to vomit. Children’s bodies were strewn about, broken and bloodied, left to rot. It’s something now forever burned into my memory.
Richter is known for keeping a low profile, running his operations from a heavily guarded compound deep in the mountains. No lavish mansions, no public appearances—just cold, calculated business in the shadows. It made him difficult to track, but once we did, the planning began.
For days, we’ve been piecing together a way into his fortress. It’s isolated, surrounded by dense forest, making it difficult to get clear imaging. The security system is high-tech, and he has enough guards to fend off an army. As Beckett said earlier, “It’s the kind of place you don’t get out of unless you’re invisible—or very good.”
His words made my stomach churn with nerves.
I sit at the large table in the center of the hub, surrounded by blueprints, surveillance images, and maps marked with guard rotations and blind spots. My job is to oversee it all—spotting gaps in security, identifying weaknesses to exploit, and coordinating with them once the mission begins. They’ve had me practice relaying information through simulations until I felt confident, for which I’m grateful. I’m still nervous, but not like before.
“We’ll enter here,” Beckett says, pointing to a narrow gap in the compound’s perimeter. “There’s a blind spot in the cameras, but we’ve only got a fifteen-second window.”
“You know how fast we’ll have to move to make that work?” Quinn asks, raising an eyebrow.
Beckett shows no concern. “That’s what training is for.”
Whit, standing near the table, glances at me, his presence a calming counterbalance to Beckett’s intensity. “What do you think?”
I hesitate, scanning the layout again. “It’s tight,” I admit, “but if you wait and move the moment the guard’s shift changes”—I point to one near the blind spot—“it’ll be completely unmonitored. Might only give you five extra seconds, but that could help.”
Beckett nods, approving. “Five seconds can make all the difference. We’ll need you watching their movements, telling us when to go. But this should be just enough—long enough to get in or out unnoticed.”
“We’ll need a backup plan,” Whit says, tracing a route with his finger. “If something goes wrong, this is our only other way out.”
“I’ll make a note,” I reply, jotting it down.
As the plan takes shape, my stomach churns. It’s one thing to sit here, looking at maps and blueprints, creating a plan when everything feels hypothetical. But the thought of them actually going into that compound, facing armed men and security so lethal it screams kill first, ask questions later, makes it hard to breathe.
What if they don’t make it back?
“You okay?” Whit asks, his voice soft as he leans in toward me.
I quickly nod and force a smile. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”
“Don’t be,” Quinn says, flashing his usual grin. “We’ve done jobs like this a hundred times, and now we’ve got you keeping track of what we can’t see. It’s going to be a blast.”
I want to believe him—both that it will be fun and that my role will make a difference. Yet, the fear lingers just beneath the surface. I know I’ll be a nervous wreck the entire time they’re gone.
Quinn sprawls in his chair, a knife gliding over his knuckles—a habit as natural as breathing—while Whit and Beckett go over what they’ll need to bring. As always, Quinn knows exactly how to pull me from my spiraling thoughts.
“You’re getting scary good at this,” he says, grin teasing but sincere. “Almost makes me wonder if we should be worried.”
“Worried about what?” I ask, arching an eyebrow. Shouldn’t improving my skills be a good thing?
“That you’ll get so good at planning, some other team of assassins will offer you better benefits—health care, retirement options—and snatch you away from us.” I roll my eyes, but smile at him.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, but now that you mention it—what kind of benefits do y’all offer?”
“The naked kind,” he replies, grinning even wider.
“Hmm, I don’t know. A retirement plan does seem pretty great,” I say, forcing myself to keep a straight face.
“Oh, I’ll show you retirement options.” He jumps up, lunging for me. I yelp, dodging his grasp.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart, I just want to go over the different types of naked benefits I can offer.” He chases me as I run around the Batcave. I can only avoid him for so long before he tosses me over his shoulder, spinning us around while I squeal.
“Put me down!” I yell, gasping for air as little bubbles of laughter escape. “I’m going to be sick!”
He swats my rear a few times, sighing dramatically. “Fine, I guess we can’t have that.” When he sets me down, he pulls me into a hug, and I return it without a thought, looking up into his ice-blue eyes—and that smile.
“I suppose this is a nice benefit.” There’s a beat of silence before he throws his head back and laughs.
“I suppose so,” he says, draping one arm over my shoulders as he walks us back to the table. That brief moment of fun lightens the mood, making everything feel a little less heavy.
A few hours later, Beckett sets me up in my own section. I’ll have everything I could possibly need at my fingertips. One large monitor dominates the space, surrounded by several smaller ones.
“You can set up the screens however makes sense to you,” Beckett says, then shows me how to display the map with their markers on one side of the large monitor, and their individual camera feeds stacked on top of each other on the opposite side. Things like the aerial feed, communications from the fortress, and other random data will fill the remaining screens.
“Let me know if you think of anything else you might need. Make sure you’re comfortable here for as long as the mission might take.” He holds my gaze and adds, “You’re a key part of this plan. We won’t be able to do it without you. So anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I just hope I don’t mess anything up,” I say, my earlier calm slipping away.
Whit’s fingers trail along my jaw before settling at my chin, tilting my face toward him. “We trust you.”
The words linger long after they leave me to organize my setup to my specifications. Their trust in me makes me start to think that maybe—just maybe—I can trust myself too. I’m confident in my skills, so there’s no reason not to.
The routine extends into the evenings, though those hours are softer, quieter. Well, maybe not Quinn—he doesn’t seem to know the meaning of quiet. Dinner is usually a chaotic affair, with Quinn cracking jokes, Whit telling stories, and Beckett steering the conversation. I’ve started contributing more, letting myself laugh and enjoy their company. Sometimes, I’ll reference something from my past, and I can see the questions in their eyes, but I’m not ready to share that part of me yet, and they don’t push.
I love how we spend our days, but the nights—those have become my favorite.
At first, I didn’t know where to go when it was time to sleep. There wasn’t a spare bedroom to give me a room of my own. When I asked where I should sleep, they just shrugged, as if the question didn’t make sense. “Wherever you feel like,” Whit said with a smile. “We don’t mind sharing.”
I’d been hesitant at first, but over time, it became second nature. One night, I’d curl up in Whit’s bed, his arms warm and comforting around me, his presence a balm for my restless mind. The next, it might be Quinn, whose laughter would lift me, his teasing words giving way to quiet, unexpected tenderness. Then there was Beckett, whose bed was a sanctuary of silence and stability, his touch grounding me in ways I hadn’t realized I needed.
Safety—that’s what they’ve become for me.
I know it’s terrible to admit, but I’m so glad they never gave me the option to leave. Like they knew I needed them from the moment Beckett found me in the study. They’ve given me the space to finally figure out who I am—and who I want to be.
And I’m starting to like the person I’m becoming.
Each night, I feel a little less like an outsider and a little more like… theirs. Not in the way Josiah meant when he claimed me, but in a way that feels freeing. I’m not a possession or a pawn. I’m part of them, and they’re part of me.
There’s power in this—in owning and being owned, not by force, but by choice. A self freely given in exchange for another’s—an even trade.
Any man can take from a woman, but a real man doesn’t need to. He doesn’t see her as a burden or a possession. He treats her as his equal, knowing that given the chance, a woman will bloom—and his life will be all the better for it.
Men like my father and Josiah will never understand that. They fear a capable woman.
And I hope they fear me one day.
They will.
I’ll make sure of it.
The darkness within me grins, nodding her head enthusiastically. She’s been quieter lately, almost as if she’s settling.
After everything they did to break me down, I never thought I’d trust anyone again—let alone three men who, quite literally, dragged me into their chaotic, dangerous world.
Yet here I am, settling into something easy with them, creating a life I never expected to want.
I’m still figuring things out, still untangling the pieces of myself they tried to break.
But I’m no longer running.
I’m home.