Page 128 of Freeing Lark

The world became noise. Gunshots cracked through the building. Someone shouted. Glass shattered. Wren screamed.

Cormac kept himself between Lark and the gunfire, one arm wrapped around her while his other hand returned fire. Lark clung to him, terrified but strangely calm beneath the shelter of his body. She trusted him. Completely.

Across the room, Spark dragged Wren behind a stack of crates. “Move!” he shouted. Wren scrambled after him.

Another burst of gunfire erupted. Then silence. Not complete silence. There were groans. Someone shouting for medical supplies. Footsteps pounding across concrete. But the shooting had stopped.

Lark slowly lifted her head. Cormac was still over her. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

His eyes searched her face anyway. Only when he was satisfied did he finally move.

The aftermath was brutal. Bradley was down, clutching his leg where a bullet had torn through it. The man from the island lay motionless on the concrete. Two more men were dead.

And Calloway was gone.

Of course he was. Voodoo and Jeeves disappeared after him, following the trail through the trees. They returned later, empty-handed.

“Slippery bastard,” Voodoo muttered.

Lark wasn’t surprised. A man wouldn’t do anything without contingency plans. Somehow, she knew this wasn’t the last she’d hear of Grant Calloway.

The team would deal with him. Eventually.

For now, though, she was alive. Wren was alive. And Cormac was beside her. That was enough.

* * *

The next morning, Lark woke in Cormac’s bed. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. Then she felt the solid warmth of his body behind her. His arm was wrapped around her waist.

She thought about the hours after the rescue, which had passed in a blur of flashing lights, questions, and exhaustion.

Bradley had been taken to the hospital under police guard for the gunshot wound to his leg. He’d survived, but the evidence against him was substantial. The investigation into Whitmore Global Holdings had already begun, with federal agents combing through the company’s financial records, shipping manifests, and corporate connections. Several executives were being pulled in for questioning, accounts had been frozen, and the Whitmore name had gone from respectable to radioactive almost overnight.

Lark still wasn’t sure how she felt about Bradley. Anger was there. Betrayal, definitely. But beneath it was something harder to name. He had made terrible choices, and she’d spent years believing he was simply the spoiled, entitled rich kid she’d once dated. Now she knew there had been fear and coercion involved, but that didn’t erase what he’d done.

Wren had taken the kidnapping especially hard. She’d been terrified during those first few hours, and Lark was pretty sure she’d struggle with nightmares. She knew Wren would grapple the most with reconciling the man she thought she knew with the man who had stood in that garage and let them remain tied to chairs. Her feelings for Bradley hadn’t disappeared, which somehow made the betrayal hurt even more. She was angry at him, heartbroken over him, and furious with herself for having trusted him so completely. Part of her still wanted to believe Calloway had trapped him, but another part knew that whatever pressure he’d faced, he’d still made choices that put her—and Lark—in danger. Lark knew healing wouldn’t happen overnight.

Neither would trust. But she was safe. Wren was safe. And Cormac was beside her. For now, that was enough.

She smiled and rolled over carefully.

Cormac’s eyes opened. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

Neither moved. They simply stared at each other.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured.

“You came after me.”

“Of course I did.” Something in his voice cracked open the last of her defenses.

“I love you.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “And not just because you rushed in to save me like a knight in shining armor.

Cormac went completely still before his lips twitched into a smile. Then his hand came up to cup her cheek. “I love you too.”