Chapter 45
Rising Tide
Lena slammed open the door to David’s office.
The sound echoed off polished wood and glass like a gunshot; the reverberation jarring her already frayed nerves.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat a palpable thud that sent tremors through her body.
Fury and fear tangled so tightly they writhed like a living thing, clawing at her insides.
The air conditioning prickled like tiny needles, a stark contrast to the temper boiling within her.
David looked up from his desk, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise in a heartbeat. His eyes widened, the overhead lights reflecting in their blue depths. “Lena—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice snapped like lightning, raw and biting, slicing through the air.
Her hands trembled; she hated it, hated that she couldn’t control it.
Her nails dug into her palms, biting half moons into her skin.
“That Chester was spotted near the service dock this morning. That he might be planning something.”
David’s fingers stilled on his tablet, jaw working as if chewing on words he didn’t want to spit out. Ozone from the humming electronics mixed with the faint aroma of his coffee, Grounds for Thought, French roast—she knew it like she knew his every tell, every micro-expression. It was maddening.
“I didn’t want to worry you—”
“Too late,” she crossed the room in quick, jerky steps.
Her heels sank into the plush carpet, each step echoing the turbulence inside her.
“I’m already panicked, David. I’ve been panicking for days.
I’ve had notes shoved in my desk, dead flowers and a decapitated doll left on my porch.
” Her voice climbed higher with each word, the pitch rising like a siren.
“I don’t need protection—I need honesty. ”
A muscle jumped beneath the stubble he’d forgotten to shave that morning. The room seemed to vibrate with the tension radiating off him, the air thick with it. Her anger dulled.
“You think I’m trying to protect you because I don’t think you can handle it?”
She flinched at the danger in his tone, which rumbled like distant thunder. She stared at him, breathless, chest heaving. The question hung between them like a live wire sparking with electricity. “Aren’t you?”
“No.” He stood so fast his chair rolled back and slammed into the wall behind with a screech that made her wince and take a quick step backward. “I’m trying to protect you because I’m not sure I’d survive if something happened to you.”
The words hit her like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of her. Silence punched through the room, the hum of the air conditioning loud in the void.
Lena blinked at him, stunned, her anger knocked sideways by the raw honesty in his voice.
She studied him now—the shadows under his eyes were darker, like bruises against his skin, the tightness in his shoulders that hadn’t been there even a week ago.
His grip on the tablet was white-knuckled, as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality.
David paced forward, his attention locked on her with an intensity that flipped her stomach.
“You think this is easy for me? Watching you walk around like a living target, like you’re one wrong step from disappearing again?
” His voice roughened, breaking on the last word.
“I’ve spent every night running simulations, backtracking security logs, hunting this asshole in the code and on foot.
And none of it would matter if you’re alone when he comes. ”
The vulnerability in his admission resonated deep within her.
A vision of him flashed before her: hunched over his monitors in the server room at three in the morning, fingers flying across keyboards, searching for threats in endless streams of data, with the cool glow of the screens reflecting off his exhausted face, and the quiet hum of the servers a lonely symphony. All for her.
Lena’s hands clenched at her sides, nails biting deeper into her palms as she fought to hold on to her anger. “So, what—are you going to lock me in your server room and throw away the key?”
“If I thought it would keep you safe?” He stepped right into her personal space, close enough for her to detect the scent of electronics that clung to him, feel the heat radiating from his body. His ragged voice scraped along her nerves like sandpaper. “I’d build the damn lock myself.”
The air between them electrified, like the moment before a storm breaks. His pulse throbbed in his throat and his fisted hands hung at his sides as if he were restraining himself from reaching for her. His tension was a tangible thing, a current running between them, drawing taut.
“What if I don’t want safe?” The fierce ache in her voice echoed in the room, carrying the magnitude of her conviction.
That stopped him.
His mouth dropped open, and he searched her face like he was trying to decode an algorithm he couldn’t solve. Her eyes traced the gentle laugh lines, the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks. The world narrowed to this moment, the two of them locked in this charged moment.
“I’m tired of being afraid.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t try to hide it. The truth deserved to be heard, tremors and all. “Of looking over my shoulder. Of waiting for someone else to decide if I’m worth fighting for.”
Her throat closed on the last words, years of abandonment and rejection threatening to choke her. Bitterness clawed at the back of her mouth; unshed tears stung her eyes.
David’s eyes softened, reflecting a certainty that hadn’t been there before.
“I’ve already decided,” he said, his voice whisper-soft. Each word landed with a quiet finality, a promise etched in stone. “And it’s reinforced every time I’m with you.”
Heat crept up her neck; her whole body strained toward him like a compass finding north. Time stretched, balanced on the verge of something inevitable and terrifying and absolutely necessary.
“You’re worth everything.”
The air between them heated, the electric charge turning into something warmer and more intimate. Her heart pounded, echoing in her ears like a drumroll.
Neither of them moved—until they both did.
It was messy and sudden and not gentle at all.
His mouth crashed into hers, all heat and fury and pent-up hunger, and she gasped against his lips.
The world narrowed to this—his hands in her hair, her fingers curling in his shirt, desperation on his tongue.
His stubble rasped over her skin, his teeth captured her bottom lip, sending sparks of excitement shooting through her.
He walked her backward until she hit the wall.
She wrapped her arms around him, tugging him closer as if she needed to win the war they’d both been losing.
The cool wall along her back was a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressed to her front, and she shivered from the sensation.
His hand cradled the back of her head with surprising gentleness, the other pressed flat against the plaster beside her head.
The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling, the room fading away. She tasted the coffee he’d been drinking, heard the rough catch of his breath. It wasn’t a kiss, but a lifeline, a promise. A testament to the words they couldn’t say, the fears they couldn’t face alone.
His teeth captured her bottom lip; she made a sound she barely recognized as her own, a raw, primal thing that tore from her gut.
His hand slid from her neck to her jaw, tilting her face to deepen the kiss, and she thought she might combust from his obvious need, the careful way he touched her even as everything else spun wildly out of control.
When they broke apart, breathing hard, she tucked her head into his neck, felt his chin on her head. His breath came in ragged bursts that matched her own, warm against her lips. His scent filled her senses: cedar and citrus and something uniquely him.
“I’m sorry, Spark,” his apology ghosted over her head.
“For what?” Her lungs ached with each shallow breath.
“For waiting this long.”
Her heart clenched, a physical ache in her chest. She framed his face with her hands, tracing the line of his jaw. His eyes were still closed, dark lashes resting against his cheeks, and he looked almost vulnerable in a way she’d never seen him. She traced his laugh lines with her fingertips.
“David…” Too many words crowded her throat—thank you and finally and please don’t let go—and none of them adequate. They were too small, too ordinary for the enormity of her emotions.
When she straightened a moment later, it wasn’t with anger. It was with purpose. The kiss had clarified something, burned away the fog of mistrust and confusion. She knew what she had to do. What they had to do.
“We stop him tonight.” Determination coursed through her veins like a current, electric and alive. Her hands were steady, her heartbeat a drumroll.
David’s eyes opened, and they were burning with the same resolve. He nodded once decisively. “Together.”
The word landed between them like a pledge, a vow. Together. Not her facing Chester alone. Not David running simulations in isolation. Not two people orbiting each other’s damage and fear. Together.
She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers, and he squeezed back. His fingers were calloused from hours of typing, and his palm fit against hers like it had been designed that way. Like two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.
“We need a plan.”
“I have three,” a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his fatigue forgotten. “I’ve been working on them all week.”
Of course he had three. The realization made something tender bloom in her chest—not that he’d been planning, but that he’d been planning for them. For this moment when she was ready to stop running and start fighting back.
Her anxiety started to rise, and she fought it back. Four things: the hard floor beneath her feet, the solidity of the wall behind her, the warmth of David’s hand in hers, and the chill air wafting from the vent across her skin.
The room seemed brighter, the air sharper, the world coming into focus with a crystal clarity.
She took a breath. “Okay, Geek. Tell me.”
He didn’t let go of her, and she didn’t pull away.
He tugged her to his desk, pulling up holographic displays with his free hand.
They had work to do. A stalker to catch.
A saboteur to unmask. For the first time since Chester crawled back into her life like a toxic ghost, Lena didn’t feel like prey.
She felt like a hunter. A warrior ready to fight for her life, for her freedom, for the man standing beside her.
And she wasn’t hunting alone.