5. Jonah
Jonah
R onan doesn’t slow the SUV until the mountains disappear behind us.
Even then, it isn’t much.
Just enough to keep the tires from fishtailing on the wet highway.
Rain hammers the windshield while darkness stretches empty on both sides of the road. No headlights follow us. No drones overhead.
For now.
I sit in the back beside Sienna, rifle resting across my lap while my eyes track every passing reflection in the side mirror.
Still clear.
But tension stays locked tight between my shoulders.
HELIOS won’t stop.
Not after tonight.
Beside me, Sienna shifts carefully against the seat.
Small movement.
Barely noticeable.
But I catch the sharp inhale she tries to hide immediately after.
My gaze slides toward her.
Too pale.
Her head leans slightly against the window now like holding herself upright takes more effort than before.
Blood darkens the side of her jacket near her ribs.
Not enough to soak through completely.
Enough.
“You’re not fine,” I say quietly.
Sienna keeps staring out the rain-streaked window. “I didn’t say I was.”
“No,” I reply. “You just keep pretending.”
That finally pulls her eyes toward me.
Even exhausted, her stare stays sharp enough to cut.
“You make a habit of profiling people this fast?”
I glance once toward the blood spreading beneath her hand.
“No.”
Another breath hitches through her before she can stop it.
“I make observations.”
Her jaw tightens.
There it is again.
Pain.
Controlled so tightly most people would miss it.
I don’t.
“Where are you hit?”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t.”
The word comes harder than I intend.
Sienna goes still beside me.
For one second, the only sound inside the SUV is rain and tires humming against wet pavement.
Then she looks away again.
“My side.”
I nod once.
“Bullet?”
“Graze.”
“How bad?”
Silence.
Which tells me everything.
“Show me.”
“No.”
I lean forward immediately. “Ronan. Pull over.”
The SUV veers sharply onto the shoulder before Sienna can argue further. Gravel sprays beneath the tires as Ronan kills the headlights but keeps the engine running.
“We’ve got maybe three minutes before I start complaining,” Ronan mutters, already scanning the road behind us.
I ignore him and step out into the rain.
Cold air hits hard as I round the SUV and open Sienna’s door.
She’s already trying to shove it open herself.
Trying being the important word.
The second she shifts wrong, pain flashes across her face fast enough to make something ugly twist inside my chest.
“I said I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” I say evenly. “And I said show me.”
Water drips from my hair onto the collar of my jacket as I crouch slightly in front of her.
Sienna glares up at me through exhaustion and rain.
“I don’t take orders.”
“Get used to it, if you’re injured, because I’m not taking the chance of infection.”
Her eyes flash.
Anger.
Pride.
A little disbelief.
But she still lets me help her out of the vehicle.
That surprises me more than it should.
The rain soaks through both of us instantly while I guide her carefully toward the side of the SUV, using the vehicle as partial cover from the road.
Sienna sucks in a breath when she leans back against the door.
Trying not to show it.
Still trying.
I grab the med kit from the cargo area and come back fast.
“Lift the jacket.”
“I can do it myself.”
“You’re shaking.”
That shuts her up.
Barely.
Sienna peels the jacket aside enough for me to see the damage.
My jaw tightens immediately.
The bullet carved a nasty line along her ribs before tearing through fabric and skin. Blood mixes with rainwater and runs down her side in thin crimson streaks.
Not life-threatening.
But painful as hell.
And still bleeding.
“You should’ve told me sooner.”
Sienna braces one hand harder against the SUV. “You seemed busy getting us shot at and getting to the vehicle.”
A rough almost-smile pulls briefly at my mouth.
Almost.
“Hold still.”
I clean the wound carefully, movements fast and practiced despite the tension still pounding through my system.
Sienna stays silent through all of it.
No complaints.
No dramatics.
But the second antiseptic touches raw skin, her breathing catches sharply.
I notice.
Of course I do.
“You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
Rain rolls down her face as she looks at me.
“I’m not pretending.”
I tape fresh gauze into place and secure the bandage firmly around her ribs.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “You are.”
The words settle between us.
Heavy.
Too personal.
I become painfully aware of everything all at once.
The warmth of her skin beneath my hands despite the cold rain.
The way she watches me now without the walls she kept up underground.
The fact she isn’t pulling away.
Not even a little.
“You always this controlling?” she asks softly.
I tighten the final wrap around the bandage before answering.
“Only when it matters.”
“And this matters?”
That makes me look up.
Really look at her.
Rainwater clings to her lashes. Loose strands of dark hair frame pale skin and exhausted blue eyes that still somehow hold too much strength inside them.
“Yeah,” I say.
The honesty in my voice surprises both of us.
Sienna’s breath slows slightly after that.
Not relaxed.
But different.
Like some part of her stopped preparing to fight me every second.
Then her gaze flicks downward.
“You’re bleeding too.”
I glance at my shoulder.
Concrete fragments and splintered debris tore through my jacket during the firefight. Blood darkens the fabric near my collarbone.
Doesn’t matter.
“I’ve had worse.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
A strange warmth hits my chest at the fact she noticed at all.
Before I can respond, Ronan leans halfway out the driver’s side window.
“Not to interrupt whatever emotionally intense thing this is,” he calls over the rain, “but we should probably leave before HELIOS sends a sequel.”
Reality slams back into place instantly.
I step away from Sienna reluctantly and help her back into the SUV.
This time, when my hand settles against her arm to steady her—
She doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t tense.
Doesn’t argue.
She simply lets me touch her.
And somehow that feels more dangerous than the bullets ever did.