66. Harper
HARPER
By ten o’clock, Blackthorn has gone quiet. Not peaceful but waiting.
Hendricks and Mandy both left after a contentious planning session. Where they went, I have no idea. Luke thinks they’re banging each other somewhere.
Jake and Emma and Mason and Lily all retired to their private spaces after a somber dinner. Luke and I came back to the suite.
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed while he runs through his weapons one last time. He’s all focus and controlled movements, checking magazines, securing holsters, stocking grenades like he’s getting ready for the apocalypse. It gives me a peek into who he was before Iron Ridge—who he still is.
I watch his hands move, memorizing everything—the gracefulness of his fingers, the way his jaw tightens in concentration, how his eyes go cold and intense as he’s planning for violence—as if I can imprint every detail on my memory and carry it with me tomorrow.
Tomorrow we end this. Or at least we try.
"You're staring," he says without looking up.
"I know."
He sets down the magazine he's loading and turns to face me. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Harper."
I’m not a good liar. I exhale slowly. "I'm scared."
Luke crosses to me and kneels in front of me, his hands settling on my thighs. "Of what?"
"Of losing you," I admit, swallowing thickly. "Of losing any of you. I can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong."
"It won't."
He says it so certainly that I almost believe him. I smile a little, touching his face. "You don't know that."
"No," he agrees. His fingers squeeze my legs. "But I know this. I'm not leaving you. Not tomorrow and not ever. You're mine, Harper, and I protect what's mine."
I cup his face, my thumb brushing over his jaw. "I love you."
He surges up and kisses me like he can’t help himself. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his breath ragged. "I love you too. I've loved you since the first time you threatened to arrest me."
I laugh, the sound more of a sob. "You're insane."
"Yeah, but I'm yours." He kisses me again, slower this time, and I lose myself in it—in him, in the way he makes me feel safe and wanted and seen.
He crawls over me until we’re lying tangled together on his bed, his arms wrapped around me like he can shield me from the world.
And for a few hours, I let myself believe he can.