Chapter 70 Raine
Raine
Boone’s laptop glowed in the dim motel room, filling the air with blue light and a low hum. Lines of emails and coded invoices scrolled across the screen while Boone tapped through them, muttering under his breath like he was solving a puzzle no one else could see.
I sat beside him, trying to focus on the words, but all I could see was the clinic.
The refrigeration units. The blinking red light. The kidney sliding across the tile.
The images came faster than I could stop them, spilling from my mouth before I even realized I was talking.
“Boone, you didn’t see it—the freezers, the containers, the way the air felt like it was swallowing us whole.
The men, the way they looked at us like they were more scared of whoever’s paying them than of dying.
And then the organ, just there on the floor, and I swear I could still smell the—”
Boone lifted one hand, palm out, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Okay. Stop.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Stop,” he said again, deadpan. “I already have nightmares, Carter. Don’t go adding kidneys to the rotation.”
For a beat, the room went silent. Then Logan groaned, Hawk smirked into his fist, and even Blade made a sound that might’ve been a laugh if he were human.
I clamped my mouth shut, half-annoyed, half-relieved. “I was just trying to explain—”
Boone finally looked up, his face serious but his eyes carrying the faintest flicker of humor. “Trust me. I get it. Cold storage full of organs. Bad guys with deep pockets. Mass cover-up. Got the picture without the smell-o-vision, thanks.”
The absurdity of it cracked through my fear, and a laugh escaped before I could stop it. It sounded a little wild, a little too sharp, but it was real.
Boone’s mouth twitched like he wanted to grin but wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. He turned back to the laptop. “Now, let me find the trail before this turns into story time with trauma.”
Adam’s arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me close. His chest was solid against my back, steady where I wasn’t. I leaned into him, still shaken but lighter somehow, the edge of panic dulled by Boone’s dry humor.
For the first time since the ridge, I felt like maybe we weren’t just reacting anymore.