Chapter 4
Jase
Location: Abandoned Village — Moving Inland
Time: Night
We don’t get far.
That’s the problem with professionals.
They adapt fast.
Too fast.
We cut through the back of the village, keeping low, using shadows and broken walls for cover. I’ve got a route in my head—north ridge, tree line, then disappear inland.
Simple.
Except nothing tonight is simple.
The first flare goes up behind us.
White light floods the village.
“Move,” I snap.
We run.
Boots hit dirt, then stone, then broken ground as we push past the last of the buildings. The second flare goes up ahead of us.
That’s when I know.
“They’re herding us,” Mila says, right on my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Gunfire cracks—controlled, deliberate. Not trying to hit.
Trying to steer.
I grab her hand this time instead of her arm.
Faster.
Stronger.
More control.
She doesn’t fight me.
That’s new.
We break toward a low structure half-buried into the hillside.
Concrete.
Old.
Military, maybe.
Or storage.
Doesn’t matter.
It’s cover.
I shove the rusted door open and pull her inside just as another flare lights up the ridge behind us.
Darkness swallows us.
Then—
Silence.
Not empty.
Not safe.
Just—
Waiting.
I shut the door quietly behind us and listen.
No footsteps yet.
But they’re coming.
“They know we’re here,” Mila says.
“Yeah.”
I scan the space.
Small.
Concrete walls.
No windows.
One way in.
One way out.
No escape if they stack the entrance.
Perfect.
I turn back to her.
“We hold here for a minute. Let them spread out.”
“And then?”
“We break through before they close the net.”
She studies me.
Like she’s measuring the odds.
Like she already knows what they are.
Not great.
Her gaze drops briefly—
To my hand.
Still holding hers.
I let go.
Slow.
Intentional.
Something shifts in her expression.
I don’t name it.
Don’t have time to.
A gust of wind pushes through the cracks in the structure.
Cold air floods the room.
Mila shivers.
Small.
Subtle.
But I catch it.
“You’re losing heat,” I say.
“I’m fine.”
She’s not.
We’re both soaked. The temperature’s dropping fast. Wind cutting through everything.
Hypothermia doesn’t care how tough you are.
I shrug out of my jacket and step closer.
“Put this on.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “And I said put it on.”
She hesitates.
Just for a second.
Then takes it.
Our fingers brush.
Electric.
Again.
She pulls the jacket on, and it hangs on her—too big, too heavy.
Does something to me I don’t have time to analyze.
Focus.
Outside—
Voices.
Closer now.
I move toward the door, listening.
Three. Maybe four.
Spreading out.
Searching.
I glance back at her.
She’s watching me.
Not the door.
Me.
“What?” I murmur.
“Nothing.”
“…Lord, I am trying…”
I almost miss it.
Almost.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Sounded like you’re negotiating.”
“I am.”
“With who?”
She lifts her chin slightly.
“None of your business.”
I huff a quiet breath.
Fair enough.
A loud crunch outside.
Too close.
I move fast—grab her again and pull her deeper into the structure.
There’s a recessed section in the wall—barely noticeable.
Even smaller than the last place.
We squeeze in.
And now—
There’s no space at all.
Her back hits the wall.
My body blocks her from view.
My hands brace on either side of her.
Caging her in.
Not intentional.
Not entirely.
Her breath catches.
So does mine.
Outside—
Boots stop just beyond the door.
Silence.
Then—
A voice.
“Check inside.”
Yeah.
That’s not ideal.
Mila’s fingers curl into my shirt.
Instinct.
Or something else.
I don’t move.
I can’t.
If I move, we’re seen.
If we’re seen—
This ends fast.
Her body presses into mine.
Warm now.
Not from the air.
From this.
From us.
My jaw tightens.
Focus.
The door creaks.
Light spills in.
Footsteps enter.
Close.
Too close.
I lower my head slightly—
Closer to her ear.
“Don’t move,” I breathe.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she whispers.
Her lips brush my throat.
Accident.
Definitely an accident.
Still—
My grip tightens.
Not on her.
On control.
Outside, the men move through the room.
One step closer—
Another—
Then—
“Clear,” one of them mutters.
The door slams shut again.
Silence returns.
Heavy.
Charged.
I don’t move right away.
Neither does she.
Because we both know—
This isn’t just about hiding anymore.
Mila
I cannot breathe.
Not because of the danger.
Not because men with guns were just feet away from us.
No.
Because of him.
Lord.
This is not what I meant.
When I asked for help…
This is not what I meant.
Jase is still braced over me.
Close.
Too close.
Every inch of him solid, steady, controlled.
And I—
Am not.
My hands are still gripping his shirt.
I don’t remember deciding to do that.
I don’t remember wanting to.
But I don’t let go either.
Because that would require thinking.
And thinking right now is a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
His breath is warm against my temple.
Mine is—
Not steady.
Not even close.
“…this is a test,” I whisper under my breath.
“What was that?” he murmurs.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
I close my eyes for a second.
Just one.
Big mistake.
Because all I can see—
Is Prague.
The way he looked at me then.
The way he touched me.
The way I let him.
Nope.
No.
Absolutely not.
I open my eyes.
And he’s already looking at me.
Of course he is.
He’s always looking.
Always seeing more than he should.
“This is exactly why,” I mutter.
“Why what?” he asks softly.
I shouldn’t answer.
I really shouldn’t.
Instead—
“This,” I whisper, gesturing slightly between us, which is ridiculous because there is no space between us. “This is why you should’ve stayed out of it.”
His gaze drops.
Just for a second.
To my mouth.
Then back to my eyes.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Dangerous.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “That’s not going to happen.”
My pulse stutters.
Traitor.
I should push him away.
I should create space.
I should remember that people are trying to kill me, and he just made himself a target.
Instead—
I stay exactly where I am.
Because part of me—
A very reckless, very stupid part—
Wants to see what happens if I don’t move.
His hand shifts slightly near my head.
Not touching.
Almost.
Always almost.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“I’m cold.”
“Liar.”
I glare at him.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
A beat.
Then—
“I know enough.”
That shouldn’t affect me.
It does.
Too much.
I swallow.
Hard.
His gaze tracks the movement.
Oh.
That was a mistake.
A big one.
We’re too close.
There’s too much—
Everything.
I tilt my head back slightly.
Just enough—
And suddenly—
We’re right there.
That line.
That moment.
That one breath away from something neither of us is ready for.
“…don’t,” I whisper.
I don’t even know which one of us I’m talking to.
Him.
Me.
Both.
He doesn’t move.
Neither do I.
And somehow—
That’s worse.