Chapter 10 Jase
Jase
Location: Abandoned Cabin — Dawn
Time: Early Morning
Iwake up before the sun.
Habit.
Also—
Because she’s there.
Across the room.
Curled slightly on her side, my jacket still wrapped around her, hair loose, face finally relaxed in a way I haven’t seen since Prague.
It hits me for a second.
Harder than it should.
I shut it down immediately.
Not the time.
Not the place.
Definitely not the situation.
Outside, the storm has passed.
The world is quiet again.
Too quiet.
I push to my feet carefully, testing my side.
Pain.
Sharp.
Manageable.
I’ve had worse.
Still not great.
Still slowing me down.
Also not something I’m telling her.
She’ll just—
“Stop pretending you’re fine.”
I glance over.
She hasn’t moved.
Eyes still closed.
“You always eavesdrop in your sleep?” I ask.
“They’re open now,” she replies, finally sitting up.
Yeah.
That tracks.
“You’re favoring your side,” she adds, already watching me like she’s running diagnostics.
“I’m walking.”
“You’re limping.”
“Barely.”
She stands.
Steps closer.
Too close.
Always too—
No.
Focus.
“You’re reopening the wound,” she says.
“I’ll survive.”
“That’s not the standard we’re aiming for.”
“It’s worked so far.”
She exhales sharply.
“…Lord, give me strength…”
I almost smile.
Almost.
Mila
This is why I don’t do this.
This.
Men like him.
Situations like this.
Where everything gets complicated for absolutely no reason.
He got shot.
He refuses to admit it matters.
And now—
I have to deal with it.
Again.
“You’re not leading,” I say.
He blinks.
Once.
Like I just said, something offensive.
“I’m always leading.”
“Not today.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “That’s not happening.”
I step closer.
Closer than necessary.
On purpose.
“Try me.”
There it is.
That spark.
That tension.
That thing that feels a little too much like—
Something else.
He doesn’t back down.
Of course he doesn’t.
But I don’t either.
Also a problem.
“You’re injured,” I say, quieter now. “That means you’re not making the calls.”
“I’m still the one who got you out,” he shoots back.
“I didn’t need saving.”
“You were being chased by armed men.”
“I had a plan.”
“You had a problem.”
I narrow my eyes.
He almost smiles.
Oh, he is enjoying this.
Unbelievable.
“…this is why I don’t like you,” I mutter.
“Yeah?” he says. “That seems mutual.”
It’s not.
Not even a little.
And that—
That is the real problem.
Jase
She doesn’t like me.
Right.
That’s what we’re going with.
I step past her, checking the door, the windows—what’s left of them.
Clear.
For now.
“We move in five,” I say.
She crosses her arms.
“You’re not leading.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Silence.
Charged.
Familiar now.
Too familiar.
She exhales.
Sharp.
Annoyed.
Frustrated.
“…Jesus, help me…”
“What did I do?” I ask.
She looks at me like I just proved her point.
“Exactly,” she says.
I almost laugh.
Mila
We step outside.
The world looks different in daylight.
Less shadows.
More exposure.
More risk.
I scan the tree line.
Quiet.
Still.
Too still.
My stomach tightens.
“That’s not right,” I say.
Jase follows my line of sight.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
No birds.
No movement.
No sound.
That’s not natural.
That’s—
A trap.
“Back—” I start.
Too late.
The first shot hits the tree beside us.
Close.
Too close.
We move instantly—diving for cover as gunfire erupts from both sides.
“They boxed us in,” Jase snaps.
“No,” I reply. “They knew exactly where we’d be.”
That’s worse.
Much worse.
“Which means—” he starts.
“We’ve been tracked,” I finish.
Or—
My chest tightens.
Not tracked.
Led.
I fire back—controlled, precise—forcing one of them to drop.
But more take his place.
Too many.
Too organized.
Too ready.
“They’re not just reacting,” I say. “They’re anticipating.”
Jase’s jaw tightens.
“Someone’s feeding them intel.”
Yeah.
That’s what I was afraid of.
And there’s only one place that intel could be coming from.
I feel it then.
That shift.
That cold realization.
“…no…” I whisper.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head.
Because I don’t want to say it.
Because saying it makes it real.
“They knew about the convoy,” I say. “They knew about the route.”
“And now they know where we are,” he adds.
I meet his eyes.
And this time—
There’s no deflection.
No sarcasm.
No attitude.
Just truth.
“They’re inside,” I say.
Jase
Inside.
Yeah.
That tracks.
I scan the perimeter again.
Fast.
Precise.
“They’re tightening the circle,” I say.
“I know.”
“Then we break it.”
“How?”
I glance at her.
Same look as before.
Same answer.
“We go through them.”
She exhales.
“…of course we do…”
But she’s already moving.
Already adjusting.
Already with me.
Whether she likes it or not.
And yeah—
She definitely doesn’t like it.
Not at all.