Chapter 6 Raine
Raine
The roof groaned under my boots, sagging like a dying lung, parts of it already torn apart. Shingles shifted, one skittering into the black water below. The house tilted another inch, wood cracking loud enough to drown out the thump of Logan’s helicopter blades overhead.
I didn’t stop.
Two more inside. A woman and her father, cornered in a bedroom they couldn’t climb out of. I’d seen the flashlight blinking through the window, SOS in the dark. By the time anyone cleared it on the board, the house would be gone.
I adjusted my harness—no line, no backup. Just me and the rope coiled over my shoulder. My heartbeat was thunder, but my hands were steady. I’d been in tighter corners, darker places. I could do this.
“Raine!”
The shout cut across the roar of the flood. I didn’t need to look. I knew that voice.
Adam.
Of course he’d come. Of course he’d think I needed saving.
“Go back to Foxtrot!” I yelled over my shoulder, planting my boot against the window frame. Glass shattered under the force, spraying into the dark water inside. “I’ve got this!”
“Like hell you do!” His answer came closer, angrier, as if sheer will could drag me off this roof.
I shoved my arm through the broken window, ignoring the sting as glass tore skin. The woman’s sobs reached me first, followed by the pale flash of her father’s terrified eyes.
“Come on!” I urged. “Climb up, one at a time.”
The roof shifted again, a sickening lurch that nearly knocked me sideways. Water surged through the open window, swallowing the room chest-high.
And then Adam was there.
Boots slamming onto the roof, one arm catching my harness before I could fall and hooking me up. His face was too close, wet hair plastered to his forehead, eyes burning hotter than the floodlights.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he snapped.
“Saving people,” I shot back. “You should try it.”
Something raw flickered across his face—anger, fear, something deeper I refused to name.
The roof gave another groan. We didn’t have time for this.
“Argue later,” I said, yanking my arm free. “Help me get them out, or move.”
His jaw tightened. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d drag me off the damn roof by force. But then he spun, bracing against the frame, and shoved his arm through beside mine.
“Fine,” he growled. “But we do it together.”
The woman’s face appeared again in the window, pale and streaked with tears. “Please—my dad—he can’t swim!”
Adam’s arm shot through the jagged frame. “Give me your hand!”
Her trembling fingers latched onto his. He hauled her up with raw strength, glass scraping his forearm. Adam easily pulled her through and sat her on the roof. She collapsed against the shingles, coughing, shaking.
“Stay low, hold here.” I pressed her hand against a solid beam. “Don’t move until I tell you.”
Adam was already turning back. “Next!”
The father staggered toward us inside, water at his chest. His lips were blue. His arms trembled as he tried to push up.
“Dad!” the woman cried.
I reached in, but he slipped under. My chest seized.
“Adam—”
“I’ve got him.”
Adam didn’t hesitate—he dove headfirst through the broken window, vanishing into the black water.
“Adam!” My scream tore out before I could stop it. I shoved halfway in, arm slicing through the current, but all I felt was cold and emptiness. Panic clawed at my ribs.
Then—movement.
Adam surged upward, dragging the older man with one arm locked across his chest. He broke the surface, coughing, muscles straining as he fought the current.
“Pull him!” Adam’s voice was raw, commanding.
I reached in, gripping the man’s arm. Adam shoved from below, and together we dragged him out. He collapsed onto the roof, sputtering, wheezing air back into his lungs. Alive.
Relief rushed through me so fast it made me dizzy.
Then the roof buckled.
Wood screamed as the house tilted farther into the river. Shingles ripped free. The whole structure shifted beneath us.
“Go!” Adam barked. He grabbed the daughter, slung her across his shoulder like she weighed nothing, and shoved me toward the ridge.
“I’ve got the father!” I snapped back, hooking my arm under the old man’s. His legs barely moved, but I dragged with everything in me, adrenaline burning hotter than fire.
The roof pitched again, sending us sliding. I dug in, boots scraping shingles, pulling with raw desperation.
And then Adam’s hand clamped on my harness, hauling me upright. Our eyes met—wild, furious, alive.
“Don’t let go,” he said.
The chopper’s cable dropped through the floodlights above. Russ’s voice crackled in my comm: “Stoker, Carter—now or never!”
Adam clipped the woman in first, shoving her into the harness. She went up screaming. Then the father, limp but breathing.
The roof split under us.
Adam grabbed my harness, shoving me toward the line. “Your turn.”
“No.” My throat was raw, but the word came anyway. “We go together.”
For a second, everything paused—the chaos, the flood, the roar of the helicopter. Just his eyes on mine.
Then his mouth tightened, and he yanked us both against the cable, arms locking around me. “Fine.”
The house gave one last shudder, then collapsed into the river.
We rose into the air, soaked, bruised, shaking. Adam’s grip never loosened. His chest pressed against my back, heartbeat hammering against mine.
And in that terrifying, suspended moment, one thought seared through me:
I wasn’t sure if I hated him… or if I’d never stopped loving him.