Chapter 50 Carter
Carter
The table in the cabin’s kitchen was covered in maps and tablets, the glow of screens casting harsh light across River’s and Gideon’s faces. Cyclone came in from outside, the night clinging to him, and dropped a duffel on the floor.
“Perimeter’s set,” he said. “Tripwires, motion cams, sensors—if a squirrel sneezes out there, we’ll know it.”
“Good,” River muttered, scrolling through intel. “But it won’t be enough if we don’t cut this off at the source. We can’t sit here waiting for them to strike again.”
I stood with my back to the wall, arms crossed, my eyes flicking to the narrow hall where Harper was resting. I could hear her faint movements—the creak of the mattress, the whisper of a sigh. Every sound was a reminder of why I was here.
“Carter.” River’s voice snapped me back. “You with us?”
“Yeah,” I said, pushing off the wall. My voice came out rougher than I meant. “I’m with you. But listen—whatever we do, Harper doesn’t leave my sight. Not for a second.”
Gideon raised a brow. “She’s already in the middle of this, whether you like it or not. Keeping her in the dark isn’t going to work forever.”
The words cut, but I didn’t flinch. “I’m not putting her in the line of fire.”
River leaned back, studying me with that calm, unreadable look of his. “Nobody’s saying you are. But if she’s marked, then hiding her isn’t enough. We need to find out who’s behind this, and we need to end it.”
Cyclone slid a phone across the table. “Pulled this off one of the bodies from the stairwell. It’s encrypted, but if we break it, we might get a name.”
My jaw clenched as I stared at it. A name. A target. That was all I needed.
Because every hour Harper was hunted was another hour my control slipped. And if it came down to it, I’d put a bullet in whoever thought they could use her as leverage.
“I’ll take point on whatever comes next,” I said flatly.
River’s gaze narrowed. “You sure you can keep your head straight on this?”
I didn’t answer. Because the truth was, no—I couldn’t. Not where Harper was concerned.
But that didn’t matter. What mattered was ending this before the storm reached her again.
I glanced toward the hallway once more, listening for the quiet sound of her breathing.
She was my mission now. And God help anyone who tried to take her from me.