Chapter 4 Gavin
FOUR
GAVIN
I never thought carrying a diaper bag would feel like part of a mission.
I offered to carry the baby again. She politely declined with a smile that made me forget my own name for three full seconds.
That smile? It’s a problem.
So is the way I keep glancing at her like I’m afraid she’ll disappear.
I tell myself it’s because she’s in danger. That I’m hardwired to protect civilians, especially women and children. That this is just another op, and she’s just another asset.
But I know that’s a lie.
Because every time she looks at me with those tired, grateful eyes, something tightens in my chest in a way it hasn’t in years.
Not since the last time I failed someone.
We step through the main lodge doors, and the others are already inside, boots tracking melted snow across the hardwood, laptop cords trailing like vines across the table. Rafe, Boyd, Chase, Rhett, and Harlan are posted up in their usual stations—focused, quiet, and coiled with tension.
Wyatt’s here too—Eli’s twin and the newest addition to the crew, sitting at the long table with his sleeves rolled and fingers flying across his laptop. His gaze lifts when he sees us.
“She’s here,” he says simply.
“Hey,” Kayley says softly, eyes scanning the space. “This looks very… bunker chic.”
“You should see it when we’re cleaning guns,” Rhett mutters, not looking up.
Eli steps forward, smiling gently. “Let’s check Aidan’s vitals again. How’s he been?”
“Sleeping mostly,” Kayley says, her arms tightening protectively. “No more fever.”
Eli gestures toward the leather couch. “Let me see him, if you’re comfortable.”
She hesitates. Then nods and carefully transfers the baby to Eli, who starts checking pulse, temperature, color. Kayley hovers, biting her lip.
“Still stable,” Eli says a moment later. “We’ll monitor him, but he looks good.”
Kayley exhales like she’s been holding her breath for a week.
I rest a hand lightly on her lower back. “You did good.”
She leans into it—just barely—but I feel the shift. The trust.
Rafe clears his throat. “We need to talk.”
I nod, guiding Kayley to the large table. It’s covered in files now—some hard copy, some digital—and a whiteboard we use for fieldwork notes.
She takes a seat, clearly uneasy.
Boyd sits across from her, arms crossed like a human lie detector. Harlan leans against the wall, watching. Rhett stays near the window. Chase is sipping coffee, but his eyes are sharp.
Wyatt looks up from his laptop. “We pulled what we could on you and your sister, Kayley. Nothing concerning. She was a nurse. You’re a bookkeeper, worked remote for a few companies.”
“Freelance,” Kayley says, voice quiet. “Mostly boring spreadsheet stuff.”
“Your sister—Sophie—passed away two weeks ago?” Rafe asks.
Kayley nods. “Car accident. She was coming home from a late shift. It was… sudden.”
“And the baby’s father?”
That one lands like a stone dropped into a quiet pond.
Kayley’s eyes flick up to mine, then drop again. “His name is Damon Ford.”
Rhett frowns. “Military?”
“Ex-military. Army. Now he works in… I don’t know. Private ops. Sophie didn’t say much. They weren’t together when she died.”
“What kind of ops?” Boyd asks.
“I don’t know,” she says again. “He was overseas a lot. Sometimes gone for months. Then out of the blue he’d show up. Sophie never trusted him, but she did love him once.”
“Did he know about Aidan?”
Kayley nods. “Eventually. But he never made an effort to be involved. He sent some money once, that’s it.”
Wyatt types something rapidly. “There’s no record of him at that name.”
“He’s real,” Kayley insists. “I met him once. He scared the hell out of me.”
That puts everyone on alert.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because he looked at Sophie like she was something he owned. And when he found out she was pregnant, he showed up furious. Said she ruined everything. She made me promise that if anything ever happened to her, I’d take Aidan and run.”
I clench my fists.
Rafe shifts his stance. “It could be nothing. Could be a coincidence. Or it could be that someone out there doesn’t want this kid to live long enough to be a liability.”
“Jesus,” Kayley breathes.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, voice low. “We always do.”
I nod to the others. “Keep digging. I want background on every alias Ford might’ve used. Bank transfers. Deployment records. Any companies he’s been tied to.”
Wyatt nods and gets to work. Rafe and Harlan move toward the back room where the secure comms are housed.
I turn to Kayley. “I need to talk to someone. I won’t be long.”
She tugs her flannel tighter. “Where are you going?”
“Just out back. Sheriff’s on-site today.”
Her brow lifts. “You know the sheriff?”
I smile. “We trained him.”
Silas James is smoking a cigar out behind the barn, leaning against a post with the casual stillness of a man who’s seen every kind of trouble and learned to wait it out.
“Thought you’d be holed up in your cabin,” he says when he spots me.
“Had to bring her in,” I reply. “We’re getting pieces now. Enough to make me nervous.”
Silas grunts. “That hard to do.”
“Only when it’s personal.”
He gives me a long look. “It’s personal now?”
I don’t answer. Don’t need to.
“You think this guy’s on some black list?”
“If he’s who she says, he’s operating with off-the-books clearance and shadow contracts. That makes him dangerous.”
“Want me to run a quiet background?”
I nod. “Anything you can find. Anything you don’t find. She’s got custody of that kid, and someone wants him gone. That’s not a baby-daddy custody dispute. That’s bigger.”
Silas nods, flicks ash off his cigar, and murmurs, “You like her.”
“She’s different.”
He smirks. “You said that about the nurse in Montana.”
“I respected the nurse in Montana. This is different.”
He nods again, and it’s quiet for a moment before he says, “You gonna keep her?”
It’s a simple question.
But it lands hard.
Because deep down, I already know the answer.
“I’m going to protect her,” I say. “Whatever it takes.”
When I return to the lodge, Kayley’s pacing near the window. Aidan’s in Eli’s arms again, babbling softly. Kayley turns the second she sees me, and her face lights up.
Like I’m safe. Like I’m steady. Like I’m home.
That tight pull in my chest? It turns into something fiercer.
I cross the room in three strides. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She exhales, then admits, “Better when you’re around.”
That right there?
I’m screwed.
Because I’m not just in this to protect her anymore.
I need her safe.
I need her here.
And whoever’s coming for her… they have no idea the line I just drew in the snow.
They’ll never cross it.
Not while I’m breathing.