Chapter 3
Jase
Location: Abandoned Coastal Village — Inland
Time: Twenty Minutes Later
We don’t stay on the water.
Too exposed.
Too easy to track.
The skiff gets us close enough to shore, and then we ditch it without ceremony. I pull Mila up the rocky incline behind me, waves crashing below us, the night thick with smoke and salt.
“Where are we going?” she asks, breath steady despite everything.
“Somewhere they’re not,” I answer.
“Helpful.”
“Accurate.”
She mutters something under her breath.
I don’t catch all of it—just enough.
“…should’ve let him drown…”
I almost smile.
We move fast through what used to be a village—stone buildings, half-collapsed roofs, doors hanging open like broken teeth. No lights. No sound except the wind and distant engines.
They’re searching.
Good.
Let them.
I grab her arm and pull her into the shadow of a narrow alley as headlights sweep past the far end of the street.
She jerks slightly at the contact.
Not fear.
Awareness.
Same as me.
I release her after a second longer than necessary.
“Eyes up,” I murmur.
“They’ve got at least two vehicles,” she says quietly, peering past the edge of the wall. “And drones.”
“I saw.”
“Of course you did.”
Another mutter.
“…Lord, give me patience…”
I glance at her.
“Something you want to say?”
“No.”
“Sounded like a prayer.”
“It was.”
“For what?”
She shoots me a look.
“Deliverance.”
I huff out a quiet breath.
Yeah. That sounds about right.
A low hum cuts through the night.
Drone.
Close.
“Inside,” I say.
I don’t wait for an argument.
I push open the nearest door and pull her in with me.
The building is dark. Dusty. Smells like old stone and salt rot.
We move fast through the main room—empty—then into a smaller back space just as the drone’s light sweeps past the windows.
Too exposed.
Too open.
I scan once—
—and spot it.
A narrow storage space. Half-collapsed door. Barely big enough for one person.
Perfect.
I grab her again and pull her toward it.
“This is your plan?” she hisses.
“Do you have a better one?”
She doesn’t answer.
Because she doesn’t.
We squeeze inside.
And yeah.
This is a mistake.
Not tactically.
That part’s solid.
Everything else?
Not so much.
The space is tight. Cramped. Barely enough room to stand shoulder to shoulder.
Except we’re not shoulder to shoulder.
We’re—
Closer.
Her chest brushes mine with every breath.
Her hand is still braced against my arm.
Her leg—
Yeah.
I go still.
So does she.
Outside, the drone passes again.
Light filters through the cracks in the wood.
We don’t move.
We don’t breathe.
We definitely don’t acknowledge the fact that this is… familiar.
Uncomfortably familiar.
I lower my voice.
“Don’t move.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” she whispers.
Her breath ghosts across my throat.
That’s new.
That’s—
Not helpful.
Focus.
I angle slightly, trying to give her space.
There isn’t any.
My hand ends up braced beside her head.
Her fingers tighten on my sleeve.
Not pushing me away.
Just—
There.
I look down.
Big mistake.
Her eyes are already on me.
Dark. Sharp.
And not nearly as unaffected as she’d like.
Yeah.
Same problem.
“Still think I should’ve stayed out of this?” I murmur.
“Yes,” she says immediately.
Then, softer—almost under her breath—
“…this is exactly why…”
I catch that part.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Liar.
The drone hum fades.
Voices pass outside.
Closer.
Then—
Gone.
We stay like that a few seconds longer.
Just to be sure.
Or maybe for a completely different reason.
I step back first.
Because one of us has to.
“Clear,” I say.
She exhales slowly, stepping out of the cramped space.
And yeah.
I feel that distance immediately.
Not tactical.
Not safe.
Just—
Gone.
I don’t like that more than I should.
Mila
I step out of the storage space and pretend my heart isn’t trying to punch its way out of my chest.
That was not okay.
That was absolutely not okay.
Lord, I am asking nicely—
Why him?
Why is it always him?
I brush past him, putting space between us before I do something incredibly stupid.
Like remember Prague.
Or worse—
Repeat it.
Focus.
“You have a plan?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
“Working on it.”
“Comforting.”
He ignores that.
Of course he does. I smile.
I move to the window, careful, slow, checking angles.
They’re still out there.
Still hunting.
Good luck with that.
I’ve survived worse than this.
Unfortunately…
Now I have to survive this with him.
I glance back despite myself.
He’s watching me.
Not casually.
Not professionally.
Something else.
And I do not like the way that makes my stomach flip.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
I turn away fast.
“…Jesus, help me…”
“What was that?” he asks again.
“Nothing,” I snap.
A beat.
Then—
“You talk to Him a lot?” he asks.
I freeze.
Slowly turn back.
“Yes,” I say. “Someone has to keep me from making bad decisions.”
His mouth twitches.
“Seems like that’s not working.”
Oh.
Oh, he did not.
I step closer.
Too close.
On purpose this time.
“Funny,” I say softly. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
There’s a spark there.
Sharp. Dangerous.
Alive.
He doesn’t back up.
Of course he doesn’t.
Because Jase Dalton doesn’t back up from anything.
Especially not me.
Mistake.
Big mistake.
Because for a second—
Just one—
I forget everything else.
The danger.
The mission.
The fact that people are actively trying to kill me.
All I can think about is—
How easy it would be to close that distance again.
I stop myself.
Step back.
Hard reset.
Nope.
Not happening.
Not again.
“We need to move,” I say.
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly.
But he doesn’t look away right away.
Neither do I.
And that—
That is the real problem.