Hell, Russ can hear it.
I’m done pretending she’s just part of the mission.
She hasn’t been just part of the mission since the moment I found her with blood on her hands and fear in her eyes and still trying to save everyone but herself.
Gabriel ducks beside us, weapon raised toward the north entrance.
“Tunnel access is behind the old boiler room.”
Russ shoots him a hard look. “And you were going to mention that when?”
“When we lived long enough for it to matter.”
I move before Gabriel finishes talking.
My hand locks around Hannah’s.
Not her wrist.
Not her arm.
Her hand.
Because I need her to know I’m not dragging an asset.
I’m holding on to a woman.
My woman.
We run.
Bullets chew through the warehouse behind us.
Metal shrieks.
Glass rains down from shattered windows above.
The air turns thick with smoke and cordite, every breath scraping down my throat like sandpaper.
Hannah stumbles once.
I catch her before she hits the ground.
She doesn’t cry out.
Doesn’t panic.
Doesn’t freeze.
She just shoves herself upright and keeps moving.
God.
This woman.
She’s terrified, and she’s still fighting.
Still standing.
