24. Mason
Mason
The plane engine drones steadily beneath us as we cut through the dark sky toward Seattle.
I keep one arm wrapped firmly around Riley the entire flight, her small body tucked against my side like she belongs there.
She hasn’t moved much since takeoff, her head resting on my shoulder, her breathing shallow but steady.
I can feel the faint tremble in her frame every time the plane hits a pocket of turbulence.
My hand strokes slow circles on her upper arm, trying to offer whatever comfort I can through touch alone.
Kane keeps glancing over his shoulder at us. His eyebrows are raised in that way that says he thinks I’ve lost my damn mind. I don’t fucking care. Let him stare. I’m not letting her go. Not for a second. Not until I know she’s truly safe.
The flight feels endless. The hum of the engines vibrates through the seats and into my bones.
Riley’s hand rests on my thigh, fingers occasionally tightening when the plane shifts.
I cover her hand with mine, my rough palm swallowing her smaller one.
Her skin is warm, soft, and I can feel the rapid beat of her pulse under my thumb.
She’s scared. I hate it. I want to wrap her up and shield her from every shadow in this world, but all I can do right now is hold her closer and promise myself I won’t leave her side.
We finally descend toward a small private airfield outside Seattle. The wheels touch down with a jolt, the runway lights flashing past the windows in streaks of white and red.
The plane taxis to a stop, the engine noise dying down to a low whine.
I help Riley to her feet, keeping my arm securely around her waist as we step out into the cold night air.
The wind hits us immediately, carrying the damp, salty scent of the nearby coast mixed with jet fuel and wet pavement.
Riley shivers against me, and I pull her tighter into my side, my body heat the only shield I can offer right now.
Two men from the Seattle field office are waiting on the tarmac, dressed in dark suits and serious expressions. They step forward as we approach, their eyes flicking between Riley and me.
“Marshal Cole,” the taller one says, nodding once. “We’re here to take custody of Miss Thompson and get her to the motel.”
I feel Riley tense beside me, her fingers digging into my side. I don’t loosen my hold on her.
“Absolutely not,” I say, my voice low and final. “I’m staying with her. Until she’s fully settled in WITSEC, I’m not handing her off to anyone.”
The two agents exchange a look, clearly annoyed. The shorter one steps forward, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “This isn’t protocol, Cole. Stevens made it clear. We have orders to move her quickly and quietly. You’re not assigned to this part of the detail.”
I stare him down, my arm never leaving Riley’s waist. “Then consider this me changing the orders. She stays with me. End of discussion.”
Things get heated fast. The taller agent’s face reddens, his voice rising. “This isn’t how we do things. You’re compromising the entire operation by getting personally involved. She needs to be isolated. New identity. New location. You know the rules.”
I step forward, pulling Riley with me, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
“I know the rules better than you do. And right now the rule is that she stays under my protection until I am damn sure she’s safe.
You got a problem with that, take it up with Stevens.
But she’s not going anywhere without me. ”
Kane steps in smoothly, placing a hand on the taller agent’s shoulder. “Easy. Cole’s right. He’s been with her from the start. Let him stay on until the handoff is complete. We don’t have time to argue about this on the tarmac.”
The agents look pissed, but they back down.
Kane gives me a long look, the kind that says we’ll talk about this later, but he doesn’t push it.
We all pile into two waiting black SUVs, the engines rumbling to life with a low growl.
I keep Riley tucked against my side in the backseat, my arm never leaving her.
The leather seats are cold at first but warm quickly from the heaters.
The city lights blur past the tinted windows as we drive through the outskirts of Seattle, the wet roads reflecting neon signs and streetlights in streaks of color.
The drive to the small motel is tense but quiet.
Riley stays pressed close to me, her hand resting on my thigh, fingers occasionally flexing like she needs the reassurance that I’m still there.
I can feel the exhaustion in her body, the way she leans heavier against me the longer we drive.
When we finally pull into the parking lot of the small, nondescript motel, the neon sign flickers weakly above the office door.
The air smells like rain-soaked asphalt and distant ocean when we step out.
Kane and I flank Riley as we walk to the room, my arm still around her waist. The motel door clicks open with a keycard, revealing a simple room with two beds, a small table, and heavy curtains.
The air inside is stale but warm. I guide Riley inside and close the door behind us, locking it securely.
She looks exhausted, her eyes heavy, shoulders slumped. I cup her face gently with both hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks.
“Go ahead and try to get some sleep,” I tell her softly. “I’m right here. I’m watching over you. The other two agents are outside keeping watch. No one’s getting through that door.”
She nods, leaning into my touch for a moment before crawling onto the bed fully clothed.
I pull the blankets over her, tucking them around her small frame.
She looks so fragile lying there, but I know the strength she carries inside.
I sit in the chair by the window, my eyes never leaving her as she drifts off.
Kane watches me from across the room, but I don’t care what he thinks. I’m not leaving her side.