Chapter 70
Ava
The air outside hits sharp.
Cold enough to sting.
I drag it in anyway.
Deep.
Like I need proof it’s real.
The sky is breaking open—dark bleeding into pale gray, dawn pushing through the night.
Behind us, smoke drifts from the building.
Voices crackle over comms.
Boots move.
Orders snap.
But none of it is louder than what’s missing.
No static.
No pressure.
No чужое presence pressing into my thoughts.
Just silence.
My body shakes.
Not from fear.
From everything finally hitting at once.
Ethan’s hand finds the small of my back before I even stumble.
“Easy.”
“I’m fine.”
He gives me a look.
That look.
I let out a weak breath that might be a laugh.
“Okay… maybe not.”
Aaron snorts nearby.
“She took bullets, fried a system, and walked out breathing. I think she gets one lie.”
“Two,” Jonah adds without looking up. “She said she was ‘just a little dizzy.’”
“I was.”
“You almost collapsed into me.”
“I was leaning.”
Ronan cuts through it, already moving.
“We need to go. This place won’t stay quiet.”
Ethan opens the SUV door.
Looks at me.
“In.”
I lift a brow.
“Bossy.”
His mouth almost curves.
“Alive and bossy.”
Something in my chest tightens.
Too much behind those words.
I don’t argue.
I climb in.
He follows immediately.
Of course he does.
The door shuts, sealing us inside.
Outside, the team moves like a machine—efficient, controlled, already shifting to the next step.
Because there’s always a next step.
Hayes is still out there.
That truth settles cold.
Ethan’s hand closes around mine instantly.
“He’s not getting you back.”
I turn toward him.
“You sound sure.”
“I am.”
“He always has a backup plan.”
“So do I.”
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just fact.
I study him.
Really look.
Blood on his sleeve.
Dirt across his face.
Eyes still locked on me like I might disappear.
I lean back, exhaustion crashing in waves.
Every bruise.
Every wound.
Everything I outran finally catching up.
“Jonah,” Ethan says, voice sharper now. “What survived?”
Jonah turns slightly, tablet glowing in the dim light.
“Enough.”
“Enough to find him?”
A pause.
Short.
Careful.
“Maybe.”
Aaron’s voice drifts in from outside.
“Translation?”
Jonah exhales.
“Paranoid men build escape routes.”
Ronan cuts in over comms.
“And escape routes leave traces.”
My fingers tighten around Ethan’s.
Tracked means hunted.
Hunted means found.
Something in me wants that.
Badly.
Ethan looks down at our hands.
“No.”
I blink.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.”
His voice is quiet.
Controlled.
“You’re not kicking in doors anytime soon.”
“Twelve hours?” I ask.
“At minimum.”
I sigh.
“You keep bringing up the getting shot thing.”
“Because I’m attached to you.”
The words hit.
Simple.
Unfiltered.
I look away.
Too late.
He saw it.
He always does.
The SUV starts moving.
Gravel crunches.
Trees blur past.
For a while—
no one speaks.
My hand stays in his.
The quiet stretches.
Different now.
Real.
“I keep waiting for it to come back,” I whisper.
His gaze sharpens.
“It won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He reaches up, hand warm at the back of my neck, guiding my eyes back to his.
“It won’t.”
The certainty in him is terrifying.
And I want it anyway.
“I tried so hard to stay me,” I say.
“You did.”
My voice cracks.
“There were times I didn’t know what was mine anymore. Thoughts. memories… any of it.”
His breathing shifts.
“Who did you hold onto?”
I laugh once.
Broken.
“You.”
His eyes close.
Just for a second.
When they open—
they’re wrecked.
“It was always you,” I whisper.
Even when I didn’t remember.
Even when nothing made sense.
Some part of me knew.
He pulls me into him.
Hard.
Like he needs me there.
Like I need him just as much.
And this time—
I don’t hold it in.
Everything breaks loose.
The tears come fast, hot, unstoppable.
I press my face into his chest.
He doesn’t try to fix it.
Doesn’t tell me I’m okay.
Just holds me.
Steady.
Solid.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I love you.”
That undoes me completely.
Because for so long—
there was nothing.
No safety.
No certainty.
Just survival.
And now—
him.
Still here.
Still choosing me.
When the tears finally ease, I pull back slightly.
“I look awful.”
He stares at me.
“You look alive.”
A shaky smile pulls at my lips.
He brushes another tear away.
“That’s all I care about.”
Outside, the sky brightens.
Dawn taking over.
Ahead, the convoy turns.
Jonah glances back.
“Safehouse in six.”
Ronan’s voice follows.
“Medical team’s ready.”
Ethan nods.
Then looks at me.
“You’re getting checked.”
“I knew that was coming.”
“And then you’re sleeping.”
“Bossy.”
His expression softens.
“Get used to it.”
I should argue.
Push back.
Prove I can still stand on my own.
Instead—
I lean into him.
Let my eyes close.
Because for the first time in years—
I don’t have to do this alone.
And somewhere out there—
Hayes is still breathing.
Good.
Let him.
Because now—
I’m not running.