Chapter 38
The coffee has gone cold by the time I realize I’ve been staring at him.
Chris is leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, the sunlight knifing through the kitchen window and catching the hard edges of his stubble. He’s watching me, too, though not with that hard-edged intensity that used to make my stomach twist. This is quieter. Warmer.
With the phone pressed to his ear, Chris pushes from the counter and walks toward the window.
He’s talking with Mattis. Although from the low, sharp tone barking into the phone, it sounds a lot more like commands than conversation.
I catch bits and pieces. “VPN reroute… firewall breach… armed patrol… traceable server routes… Advance security team… by tonight.”
Most of those words used to mean nothing to me, but now—knowing they’re all part of his protection—they cause the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I wrap my hands around the mug before me, seeking the warmth it doesn’t hold.
I should be writing. Every second I sit here doing nothing is another second the men behind the massacre keep breathing free air. But I also can’t bring myself to move, not while all I can really think about is last night.
Last night wasn’t supposed to happen. It was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade that level of intimacy with him for anything, but it gave us both a sense of peace. An illusion that the world isn’t still burning outside his front door and that this thing between the two of us would just be that easy.
Chris ends the call, exhaling like it’s cost him years. He catches my gaze and forces a smile. “Mattis traced some of the IPs tied to the memo,” he shares, setting the phone down on the counter. “All US-based. DC and Houston primarily.”
Oil. Politics. Corruption. The worst combination.
“That aligns with the pipeline contracts.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “But the servers are shielded behind government proxies. We’re not touching that without drawing unwanted attention.”
“Then we find another way in.” I shrug, unwilling to let this go. “Someone leaked that authorization order. That means there’s at least one person in their chain of command who doesn’t agree with what they did.”
“Or it’s bait.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “You think everything’s a trap.”
He meets my look dead-on. “Because I’ve spent twenty years walking into them.”
I can’t argue with that.
Abandoning the mug on the counter, I stand and cross to the living room.
My notebook sits open on the coffee table, half-finished notes scribbled throughout it, scattered references, red-highlighted leads.
I sit cross-legged on the floor, lifting my pen and reading, the words blurring together after days of exhaustion.
Chris follows me, settling on the couch behind me, his arm brushing mine. “Reese,” he says quietly. “You need to rest.”
“I rested.”
He arches a brow. “You passed out for three hours on the flight. That’s not rest.”
“I slept last night.”
“I kept you up most of the night,” he counters.
“Please. Just let me work,” I bite back. “That’s how I cope.”
He studies me for a long moment before rubbing his jaw and letting out a slightly defeated sigh. “Fine. But if you start fading, you’re done.”
I smirk faintly. “Such a bossy Daddy.”
“Maybe,” he says. “But you still don’t listen; it’s like you want to be punished.”
That earns him a quiet laugh, partly because it’s true. “You ever think maybe that’s why we worked? You like the control, and I like the fight.”
“Baby, we didn’t just work.” He slips his fingers under my chin and tips my face up toward his.
His eyes are glassy, and the look he gives me steals the air straight out of my lungs.
“People spend their whole lives looking for a love that ruins them like this. We don’t just work, baby.
” His thumb traces the corner of my mouth, tenderly gliding over my bruised lip.
“You are the beginning and end of every thought, reminding me nothing—and no one—will ever come close to making me feel the way you do.”
Folding himself over me, he presses his lips to mine.
He’s right. The two of us, we burn. Maybe too bright to last. But as his mouth moves against mine, like he’s trying to breathe life back into me, our fire swallows me whole.
The world fades until there’s only the heat between us, the sound of our uneven, ragged breaths, and the quiet truth neither of us can outrun: no matter how much it hurts, we’ll always find our way back to this. To us. Because this is where we belong.
“Two hours, baby,” he whispers against my lips when he pulls back. “Then you’re going back to bed. And one way or another, you’ll be tired enough to get some rest.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I kiss the words against his lips.
Chris climbs from the couch, leaving me to work.
And trying not to think about his methods of exhausting me.
I thumb through my notes and the documents he printed out for me after breakfast. Mattis sent a slew of encrypted files and access points, redacted names, and time stamps.
It’s a digital spider web, pointing at so many political figures I can’t keep track of them all.
Senator Weller’s name is on the order to clear the village.
His name beside Representative Gerard Freeman’s on a referendum to expand the pipeline.
Both of them spoke at an energy summit a few months ago with the Vice President of the world’s largest oil supplier, all of them touting the revitalization of developing economies.
The more I dig, the more people I tie in. By the time I pause, I’ve written enough names to totally upend our government. Staring at the list, a chill runs through me.
“What is it?” Chris must see the look on my face.
I swallow hard and gesture to the mess splayed across the coffee table.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “You publish this, Reese, you’re declaring war on half the government.”
I shrug, but my throat is tight and my pulse is racing. “Then I guess it’s time someone did.”
This isn’t just a story anymore. It’s a reckoning.
Chris rounds the table, lowering himself to the floor with a grimace. His gaze flickers over the table, and I can see his thoughts in his expression. Part of him wants to protect me at all costs, and the other part that knows there’s no turning back.
“You know what happens if you publish this,” he begins.
“I know what happens if I don’t.”
He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. “Once you take this step, there’s no undoing it. You’ll be marked. Watched. Hunted.”
“And you’ll protect me.” I swallow hard, but I don’t look away. “They’ve taken enough from people who couldn’t fight back. I can.”
“I won’t leave your side. I’ll protect you with my life,” he promises. “I’ve already lost you once, baby. I’m not letting that happen again.”
Outside, thunder rolls, low and steady. I look down at the papers, at the names that could unravel everything, and slide one toward him. “Then we start here.”
He nods, determination setting into his features. “You’re going to change everything, Reese.”
I meet his eyes. “No,” I whisper. “We are.”