Chapter 45 Jase
Jase
The storm doesn’t let up.
Rain pounds the roof like it’s trying to drown the world, washing blood into the dirt, turning the ground outside into mud and memory.
Inside—
It’s quieter.
But not calm.
Never calm.
Delta Five moves like a machine, clearing rooms, checking bodies, locking down every inch of the safehouse. No wasted movement. No second guesses.
They’ve got us.
I don’t question that.
Not them.
Not my team.
But still…
Something sits wrong in my gut.
And I’ve learned the hard way not to ignore that.
I lean against the wall in the narrow hallway, breathing controlled, even if it feels like glass is lodged in my ribs every time I inhale.
Across from me, Mila is reloading.
Efficient.
Focused.
Untouchable.
Except I see it.
The slight tremor in her fingers.
The adrenaline crash starting to hit.
She hides it well.
But not from me.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
Her eyes flick up instantly.
Alert.
Always.
“You good?”
A beat.
Then she nods.
“I’m fine.”
Lie.
Not a big one.
But still.
I push off the wall and close the distance between us, ignoring the way my body protests every step.
“You don’t have to do that with me,” I murmur.
Her brows pull together slightly. “Do what?”
“Pretend you’re not running on fumes.”
Something shifts in her expression.
Not defensive.
Not closed off.
Just… real.
For a second.
Then she exhales slowly.
“I’m not falling apart, Jase.”
“I know.”
I step closer.
Close enough that the space between us disappears.
“I’m just saying you don’t have to carry it alone.”
There it is again.
That flicker.
That hesitation she doesn’t let anyone see.
The storm rumbles outside, thunder cracking through the air like a warning.
Inside—
Everything narrows.
Just us.
Her voice drops.
“You almost collapsed back there.”
I smirk slightly. “Didn’t.”
“You were about to.”
“Still didn’t.”
Her eyes narrow.
And there it is.
That spark.
God, I love that spark.
“You’re impossible,” she mutters.
“Yeah,” I agree easily. “But I’m still here.”
Her gaze drops briefly—to my chest, my shoulder, the blood I haven’t bothered to clean yet.
Then back to my eyes.
“That’s not something you should be testing tonight.”
I reach out without thinking, my fingers brushing her wrist.
Warm.
Steady.
Real.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
It comes out quieter than I expect.
More honest, too.
Something in her breath catches.
Barely there.
But I feel it.
She doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t move at all.
And suddenly the hallway feels too small.
Too tight.
Too charged.
“Jase…” she starts.
I step in closer.
Not fast.
Not aggressive.
Just… certain.
Her back hits the wall lightly.
Not trapped.
Never trapped.
But held there by something stronger than force.
By choice.
Her choice.
My hand slides from her wrist to her waist, steadying her—and maybe myself.
Hard to tell anymore.
“You activated that channel,” I murmur. “You put a target on your back the size of a damn continent.”
Her lips part slightly.
“I knew what I was doing.”
“I know you did.”
I lean in just enough that my forehead almost brushes hers.
“Doesn’t mean I’m letting you face it alone.”
Her breath mixes with mine.
Warm despite the cold.
“You don’t get to decide that,” she whispers.
A slow grin pulls at my mouth.
“Too late.”
For a second—
Just a second—
Everything else fades.
The mission.
The danger.
The storm.
It’s just her.
Just this.
And the way she’s looking at me like she’s trying not to feel something she already does.
My thumb brushes lightly against her side.
“Tell me to walk away,” I say quietly.
She doesn’t.
Doesn’t even try.
Instead—
Her hand fists in the front of my shirt.
And that’s it.
That’s all the permission I need.
I kiss her.
Not slow.
Not hesitant.
Nothing held back.
It hits like everything we’ve been holding in all day finally breaking loose at once—heat, tension, frustration, need.
Her response is immediate.
Fierce.
Like she’s done fighting it, she wants me as much as I want her. It’s always like this with us.
Like she’s done pretending.
Her other hand comes up, gripping my jaw, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
Yeah.
Definitely not pushing me away.
The pain in my ribs flares when I press in closer.
Ignore it.
Worth it.
Completely worth it.
Her breath catches against my mouth, and for a second I think we might actually forget where we are.
Forget what’s coming.
But then—
A voice cuts down the hallway.
“Clear on the east side—”
Footsteps.
Getting closer.
Mila breaks the kiss first.
Not because she wants to.
Because she has to.
Her forehead rests briefly against mine, her breath uneven now.
“Terrible timing,” I mutter.
A ghost of a smile touches her lips.
“Always.”
But her eyes…
Her eyes are different now.
Softer.
Deeper.
Mine.
Yeah.
That just happened.
Footsteps pass by the hallway entrance.
Neither of us moves right away.
Neither of us wants to.
But then—
That feeling hits again.
Sharp.
Wrong.
I glance past her, toward the main room.
Delta Five is still moving.
Still locking everything down.
Ethan’s talking quietly with Jonah near the table.
Cal is checking equipment.
Lance is by the door.
All solid.
All trusted.
But then—
There’s one I don’t recognize.
New.
Standing just a little too still near the back window.
Watching.
Not scanning.
Watching.
My grip tightens slightly on Mila’s waist.
Her body tenses instantly.
She feels it.
“Don’t react,” I murmur under my breath.
Too late.
Her instincts are already firing.
“Who is that?” she whispers.
“Don’t know.”
The guy shifts slightly.
Just enough that the light catches his face.
Calm.
Too calm.
And when his eyes flick toward us—
There’s something there.
Something that doesn’t match the rest of the team.
Not urgency.
Not focus.
Not loyalty.
Something colder.
Something calculating.
Yeah.
I don’t like him.
Not even a little.
My voice drops lower.
“Stay close.”
Mila doesn’t argue.
Doesn’t hesitate.
Her hand slips into mine briefly.
Not soft.
Not delicate.
Strong.
Ready.
Whatever this is—
We’re facing it together.