Page 115 of Reaper Said Mine

“With your safety?”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

I glance at him. “Bellamy is a good reporter and a better friend than he pretends to be. He is not built for a knife fight.”

“I am.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

He moves to the archive terminal and enters a command sequence. A secure transfer field blooms above the table. “Use station escrow.”

I blink. “What?”

“Guyver independent archive. Triple-shielded, off-network, backed through two hidden nodes and one courier drone that does not officially exist.”

“That sounds wildly illegal.”

“It is extremely illegal.”

“Of course it is.”

“It is also difficult to erase.”

I stare at the transfer field, then at him. “You would give me access to your secure archive for my reporting?”

“Yes.”

“Even if that reporting eventually damages you?”

His jaw flexes. “Yes.”

The answer lands heavier than anything Dawson threatened. Trust is not soft from Gnash. It is metal, weight, a weapon turned handle-first.

“Why?”

He gazes at me, and the bond between us hums beneath the cold air. “Because you chose truth when lies would have protected your career.”

“That doesn’t make me safe to trust.”

“No,” he says. “It makes you worth trusting.”

He moves closer, and this time when he lifts his hand, I step into the touch before he reaches me. His palm settles carefully against the side of my face, warm and rough, his claws held away from my skin. I just told my boss to go to hell in the most professionally devastating way possible. And the monster Reaper is touching me like I am perfection itself.

“I’m scared,” I admit.

“I know.”

“I hate that.”

“I know that too.”

My eyes open. “Do not make this the part where you say you’ll protect me from everything.”

His mouth curves faintly. “I was preparing a better lie than that.”

“Don’t.”