Cold certainty settled into his bones. The familiar narrowing. The click as everything extraneous fell away.
Akilov’s coming for her.
He’ll have to come through me first.
Jen lifted clean clothes from the pile Sarah had brought her. Fuck, was that really only yesterday? He rubbed his eyes, forcing his thoughts into order. “Akilov’s transport was ambushed. They got him out about an hour ago.”
Jen pulled on a tee, dark pants, and bent to lace her boots. “How long do we have?”
“If he found out where I live?” He shook his head. “He could already be outside.”
Jen paused. Her jaw firmed, and she laced faster.
Akilov would come with a team. Four, maybe six—enough to breach a residential structure, not enough to attract attention on mountain roads. They’d cut power first. Communications next. Standard isolation protocol before a hard entry.
He headed to his closet and pulled the racks of shirts away from the back wall, exposing the dull gray steel of his gun safe.
He palmed the scanner. The lock released with a muted click, and the door swung open.
Weapons gleamed in the dim light—rifles, pistols, stacked ammunition.
Everything he’d sworn he’d never need again.
He strapped on his Glock 19, tucked the backup at his waist, and slid a knife into his boot. Two spare magazines in his cargo pockets. If Akilov brought a team, he’d need every one.
Jen came up behind him, fully dressed now. Her gaze swept the weapons, took it all in, then came back to him. “Old SEAL habits?”
“Hard to break.” He hesitated. Then reached for a second handgun. Glock 43. Compact. Light. Good for someone not used to carrying.
He turned and held it out to her, grip-first. “Remember from Seven?”
Her left hand closed around it. “Point and shoot. Don’t aim at myself.”
“Safety’s here.” He tapped it with his thumb. “Brace for the kick.”
She checked the chamber as if she was trying to remember the sequence. Awkward. But determined. “I’m still not great at this.”
Wyatt met her eyes, read the fear but also the steel beneath it. “You don’t have to be great. Just trust me. And yourself.”
She held his gaze. “Just tell me where you need me.”
The urge to hide her somewhere the world couldn’t reach was so strong it stole his breath.
Thirty seconds. That’s all it costs.Thirty seconds to make sure she knows.
He stepped closer, sliding his hand along her jaw until his palm cradled her face. Her hair was soft against his skin, still warm from sleep and everything they’d barely had time to name.
He kissed her as if it might be the last thing he was allowed to take from this moment—too hard, too deep, all heat and restraint breaking at once. Not gentle or careful. A kiss packed with every promise he refused to say out loud.
When he pulled back, it was only enough for their foreheads to rest together. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just that—her breath hitching, his hand steady at her jaw, the vow he locked behind his teeth because saying it felt like tempting fate.
I’ve got you.
Then he exhaled, once, and the moment locked into him, the armor he would carry into the fight.
They moved through the house together. Wyatt engaged the deadbolts then activated the smart lock’s fortress mode. Heavy shutters rumbled over all the windows.
“Steel core doors,” he said. “Reinforced frames. They can breach, but it’ll take time.”
