Chapter 53 Scout
Scout
Tessa is safe with some of the Brave team. Just where she was when we left.
Unharmed.
And still—
Not okay.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I walk in, her hands clenched in the fabric of her jeans, her shoulders tight like she’s bracing for something that hasn’t happened yet.
Or maybe something that already did.
Her head lifts the second she sees me.
“Scout…”
That’s all it takes.
She’s on her feet before I can close the door, crossing the room in a rush that isn’t controlled, isn’t measured—nothing like her.
She crashes into me.
Hard.
Her arms wrap tight around me like she’s holding on to something that almost slipped away.
I don’t hesitate.
I hold her back.
Firm.
Steady.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, my hand coming up to the back of her head, grounding her the way I always have.
But this time—
It’s different.
Because I almost didn’t.
“I thought—” her voice breaks, breath catching. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”
My chest tightens.
Not breaking.
Never breaking.
But it’s there.
“I told you,” I say quietly. “I will always come for you.”
Her grip tightens.
Like she needs that promise to be physical.
Real.
“They moved me,” she whispers. “I didn’t see how. I didn’t hear anything. It was just—one second I was there and then—”
“I know,” I say.
Because I do.
Because I saw the system.
The precision.
The control.
“They wanted us to follow,” I add.
Tessa pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes searching mine.
“And you did.”
A beat.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No regret.
Because there was never another choice.
Her gaze shifts slightly.
Not fear.
Understanding.
“Is he gone?” She asks.
“Yes, and he will never come back.”
And this time—
She believes it in a different way.
Certainty.
She has always believed everything I said.
Her breathing starts to steady, just slightly, her body slowly coming down from the edge it’s been holding.
“I heard him,” she says quietly. “The one… in charge.”
Sentinel.
My jaw tightens just slightly.
“He’s gone,” I tell her.
A pause.
“Yes, he's gone.” She says.
That lands.
Deep.
Final.
And I see it—
The shift.
Relief.
Not immediate.
Not overwhelming.
But real.
Her shoulders drop just a fraction.
“He said you’d break,” she whispers.
Something in me stills.
Cold.
Controlled.
“He was wrong.”
Tessa studies me for a long moment.
Then—
A small, shaky smile.
“I know.”
Because she saw it.
Because she felt it.
Because even when everything was controlled—
We weren’t.
She leans into me again, softer this time.
Not clinging.
Resting.
Healing.
And I let her.
For as long as she needs.