Page 25 of Her Grumpy Protector

I’m close to ending this.

Trust no one.

— Dad

The words hit like a punch to the gut. He knows we’re looking. He’s been here recently. And he’s warning us away. My eyes sting for a second before I blink it back. He’s alive. He’s close. And he’s still trying to protect us even after all this time.

Anniston touches my arm gently. "Banks..."

Before I can answer, I hear it. Footsteps. Multiple sets. Heavy boots on concrete. Coming from the east side of the building.

"Down," I hiss.

I pull her behind a row of old filing cabinets, pressing her against the wall and covering her body with mine. We crouch low. I keep my pistol ready but pointed down. Three men enter the large room we just left, flashlights sweeping the floor in sharp arcs. They’re armed with rifles and move like they know exactly what they’re doing. Not the same hired muscle from Wyatt's apartment. These guys are professionals.

One of them speaks into a radio. "No sign of him now. But someone was definitely here recently. Fresh tracks and warm ashes."

They start moving in our direction, checking behind machinery and kicking over crates. The sound echoes loud through the empty factory. My grip tightens on the pistol. If they get any closer I will have to engage but I can’t risk Anniston getting hurt.

She’s pressed tight against my back, her breathing shallow but controlled. I reach behind me and squeeze her hand once. Stay calm. I have you.

The men get within twenty feet. One of them kicks over a metal crate, the crash ringing out like a gunshot. I shift my weight, ready to move, ready to fight if I have to.

Then a loud crash comes from the far end of the building. Something heavy falling. Metal on concrete. The men spin and head toward the noise, flashlights cutting through the dark.

"Now," I whisper.

I grab Anniston's hand and pull her up. We move fast but quiet, retracing our steps through the maze of machinery toward the side door. My heart pounds in my ears. Every second feels stretched too thin. We slip out the same door we came through and run low across the lot, sticking to the deepest shadows between the buildings.

Shouts echo behind us. They’ve realized someone was inside.

We sprint the last hundred yards to the fence. The spot we came through is a few hundred yards away, so I boost Anniston over first, then haul myself across right after her. We run hard back to the truck, gravel flying under our feet. I get her inside, slamthe door, and peel out fast, killing the headlights until we’re well clear of the industrial park.

Only when we’re back on the main road and several miles away do I let out a long breath. My hands are still tight on the wheel. Anniston’s breathing hard beside me, but she reaches over and rests her hand on my arm, steady and warm.

"Banks," she says softly. "Pull over for a second."

I find a quiet turnout off the road and stop the truck. The engine ticks as it cools. For a moment we just sit there in the dark, the only light coming from the distant glow of Halo City.

I turn to her. The moonlight catches her face, and something inside my chest cracks wide open. All the fear from tonight, all the worry about my dad and my brothers, it collides with how much this woman has come to mean to me in such a short time.

"I’m falling for you, Anniston," I say, voice rough with everything I’ve been holding back. "Hard. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did. And when this is over, I don’t want you to walk away. I want a future with you. A real one. Not just surviving this mess together. I want you in my life. Every day. I want to come home to you. I want to build something that’s ours."

She stares at me, eyes wide and shining in the moonlight. Then she unbuckles her seatbelt, climbs across the console, and straddles my lap. Her hands frame my face as she kisses me, deep and desperate and full of everything we haven’t said yet.

I kiss her back like she’s the only steady thing left in my world. My hands slide under her shirt, gripping her waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space between us. For a few perfectminutes the danger, the factory, my father's note, it all fades. There’s just her. Just us. Just this.

When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, she rests her forehead against mine.

"I want that too," she whispers. "All of it. With you."

I hold her tight, one hand buried in her hair, the other stroking her back. The road ahead is still dangerous. My family’s still broken. But for the first time since this nightmare started, I have something worth fighting for beyond just survival.

Her.

And I’m not letting her go.

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