“You think this keeps us safer?” she asks.
“I think it keeps us in control,” I say.
She lets that sit between us.
Not agreeing.
I push off the post and step a little closer, lowering my voice.
“Stay here,” I say.
It isn’t soft or hesitant, it’s direct.
Her eyes snap to mine.
“For tonight,” I add, giving her the space she needs without backing off what I’m asking. “You and Hadley. Where I can see you. Where I know what’s coming in and out.”
She doesn’t answer right away.
Of course she doesn’t.
Riley doesn’t agree to anything without turning it over first, looking for cracks, finding the places where it could go wrong.
“I can handle myself,” she says finally.
“I know you can,” I answer. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“The point is I can’t cover ground and watch your back at the same time if you’re not here,” I say. “And I’m not splitting that focus right now.”
Her jaw tightens just enough that I know I hit something real.
“You’re asking me to trust you again,” she says.
“Yeah,” I answer.
There’s no hesitation or apology, just the truth.
Silence stretches between us, not empty, just full of everything that hasn’t been said yet.
Everything that already has.
I don’t push it.
I don’t repeat myself.
I just stand there and let her decide.
Because this one matters.
Because if she says no, I’ll deal with it.
But if she says yes—
Everything shifts again.
She exhales slowly, her gaze dropping for a second before coming back up to meet mine.
