Chapter 41
Pain has a way of rearranging your priorities. Right now, my side feels like someone fed a hot poker through me and yanked it back out for fun. But the truth is—I’ve had worse mornings. Like getting stabbed in the chest and breathing blood bubbles for thirty minutes.
I shift carefully in my seat as the jet hums. Blake is asleep with her head in my lap, lashes resting against her cheeks, and her breathing is slow and even.
One hand is tangled loosely in her hair, my fingers moving more out of habit than intention.
I’m not trying to wake her. God knows she’s earned her sleep.
Across the aisle, Maryam watches her daughter with a focus so intense it borders on reverence. Aliyah is bundled tight in her bassinet, tiny fists curled, and cheeks flushed. Zahra is farther back, still under observation. The best medic I know, Damon, is hovering over her like a guard dog.
I key into the sat phone, put it to my ear, and keep my voice low when she answers. “Abby.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“It was just a flesh wound,” I mutter. “Besides, when do I ever listen?”
She lets out a heavy sigh that sounds a lot more like fucking never.
“Listen, we need to talk logistics… Maryam and her daughter.”
“I’m already ahead of you,” she scoffs. Of course she is.
“Temporary placement at Aegis headquarters is ready. I had some of the juniors help me convert one of the unused executive offices into a makeshift apartment. It’s on a secure floor with controlled access.
It’ll give her time to acclimate to such a big change without feeling like she’s being hidden away again. ”
“Good. After last night, I’m pretty sure she’s not going to want to go anywhere public for quite a while.”
“Already assumed that, too. Longer-term housing is in progress. I’m looking for something off-site, private, and quiet. Somewhere that doesn’t feel like a bunker.”
“She’ll need to find work,” I add. “Purpose. Training. Something that belongs to her.”
There’s a pause on the line. It’s not hesitation, just calculation.
“We can onboard her into Aegis,” Abby says finally. “Support division at first. Operations admin. Maybe training liaison—once she’s ready. Language support, certifications. We’ll build the runway as she walks it.”
I let out a slow breath. “Do it.”
“And childcare?” Abby asks gently.
“Yes.” I smile, thinking about my potential need for childcare more than Maryam’s.
“There’s a daycare partnership already in place. On-site for the first few months if needed.”
“Thank you, Abbs,” I exhale, meaning thank you for about a thousand different things that don’t fit into this call.
“I’ll send you the full plan before you land,” she replies. “Try not to get shot again.”
“Pretty sure at this point it would have to be friendly fire.”
“I know,” she teases. “And there are days I’m pretty sure Gunnar wouldn’t hesitate.”
I cut the call and lean back, letting my head rest against the seat. Blake shifts slightly but doesn’t wake, her brow smoothing as my hand keeps stroking her hair. She looks younger like this. Softer. Less like someone holding the world together through sheer force of will.
At some my lids grow heavy and shut, granting me a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Much-needed sleep. It doesn’t last long; a slight whimper from Aliyah pulls me from my slumber.
Blake stirs as the plane finally begins its descent, lashes fluttering and her hand curling instinctively into my thigh. She blinks up at me, disoriented for half a second. “Did I miss anything?” she murmurs groggily.
“Just the whole flight and the part where I built an entire life for someone between your snores,” I say. “No big deal.”
“I do not snore,” she insists, pushing herself upright, then freezes when she realizes we’re descending. “We’re landing.”
“The whole flight,” I reiterate.
We land just before dawn, the wheels hitting the tarmac with a solid thud that feels final. Secure vehicles are waiting for us when we disembark.
At this hour, it doesn’t take long to make our way into the city. Aegis HQ rises out of the morning haze like something out of a fever dream, a glowing tower of glass and steel. After helping Blake out of the SUV, I lace my fingers with hers and lead her into the building.
Abby is waiting for us—and the rest of the team—in the lobby. She is composed with a clipboard in hand, like it’s an extension of her body. I introduce her and Blake.
“So you’re the miracle worker,” Blake says, gratefully.
Abby smiles. “I prefer logistics witch.”
Mattis appears at her shoulder, a coffee in hand, wearing a hoodie and an unapologetic grin. “Hi. I’m the guy who absolutely did not commit federal crimes to get your friend legal status.”
Blake arches a brow and laughs, “Good to know.”
Reese pulls Hawk into a fierce embrace a few steps away, relief written all over her face. When they finally pull apart, Hawk looks steadier, like something essential snapped back into place.
Zahra is taken straight to the on-site infirmary.
A clean, bright medical facility inside Aegis, where the staff don’t notify the police over every little knife wound and gunshot.
Blake walks with her, doctor mode fully engaged, asking questions, issuing instructions, and already mapping out the road ahead for her friend’s recovery.
When she’s satisfied, Abby leads us to Maryam’s temporary living quarters.
The room is warm, softly lit, and furnished with actual furniture—a real bed, crib, and clean sheets.
Add in the expansive windows overlooking Chicago, and it’s a palace compared to the abandoned break room she’s been surviving in.
She stands in the doorway for a long moment, eyes growing watery. Placing a hand on her chest, she asks quietly, “Us?”
“For now,” I answer. “And then somewhere better.”
She turns to Blake, emotion breaking through at last, and pulls her into a hug, careful not to smother Aliyah between them. Blake freezes for half a heartbeat, then hugs her back just as tightly.
By the time everything is finally done—everyone is placed, checked, and secured—the sun has risen fully in the sky. I find Blake in the hallway, arms crossed, posture loose in that way that means she is finally allowing herself to relax. “What now?” she asks.
Without hesitation, I answer, “We go home.”