62. Blaze
BLAZE
The medic was talking.
I knew he was.
Could see his mouth moving.
Could feel hands pressing against my side.
But all I could focus on?—
was Flick.
Kneeling in the mud beside me like the entire world had narrowed down to whether or not I kept breathing.
Rain soaked through her hair.
Her hands trembled against my chest.
And every few seconds her eyes searched my face like she was terrified I’d disappear if she looked away too long.
That look nearly killed me faster than the bullet.
“You’re lucky,” the medic muttered while cutting open my shirt. “Another inch over and?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Flick snapped instantly.
The poor guy blinked.
Honestly?
So did I.
Wolf barked out a laugh somewhere behind us.
“Damn. She fits in already.”
Flick ignored him completely.
Her attention never left me.
“Can you sit up?”
“Probably.”
“That doesn’t sound confident.”
“Sweetheart, I got shot. Confidence took a temporary hit.”
Her lips parted slightly?—
and there it was.
That tiny, unwilling, almost-smile she tried to hide every time I pulled her out of fear for a second.
I’d burn the world down to keep seeing that look.
The medic pressed harder against the wound.
Pain shot through my ribs hard enough my vision blurred briefly.
Flick immediately grabbed my hand.
Instinct.
No hesitation.
Her fingers threaded tightly through mine.
“I’m here,” she whispered quickly.
The words hit me harder than the damn bullet.
Because nobody had said words like that to me in a very long time.
Maybe ever.
The storm raged around us.
Shadow Division operators moved through the trees, securing bodies and weapons.
Rook stood farther uphill, speaking quietly into comms while Trigger coordinated perimeter teams.
But somehow?—
in the middle of all that violence?—
it suddenly felt strangely quiet between us.
Flick looked down at our joined hands like she just realized she was holding it.
Like she expected me to let go.
I tightened my grip immediately.
Not happening.
Her eyes slowly lifted back to mine.
Too many emotions there.
Fear.
Relief.
Love.
Yeah.
I saw that one too.
Even if she hadn’t said it yet.
A flashlight beam swept across the trees suddenly.
One of Rook’s men jogged toward us fast.
“Sir.”
Rook turned.
“We found Shepherd’s exit route.”
Every muscle in my body tightened instantly.
“Alive?” I demanded.
The operator hesitated.
Then nodded once.
“He left someone behind.”
Not good.
Rook walked toward us slowly through the rain.
Expression unreadable.
“What kind of someone?” Wolf asked.
The operator swallowed hard.
“A message.”
Cold settled deep in my chest.
“What message?”
The man looked directly at Flick.
Then handed Rook a folded photograph sealed inside a plastic evidence bag.
Rook stared at it for one long second before passing it toward me.
The second I saw the image?—
every ounce of blood drained from my body.
Flick sucked in a horrified breath beside me.
Because the picture showed her.
Sleeping.
Inside the cabin.
Recent.
Very recent.
And written across the bottom in black marker were four words.
YOU CAN’T HIDE HER.