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Harry's eyes hardened at the news, his protective instincts kicking in. He nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation, but his gaze lingered on Rose. "You should go back to Verde Lago, be safe with Nathaniel," he told her, the concern in his voice mirroring her own.
Rose shook her head, her determination clear. "I can’t go back. I knew that the second I left. Things are in motion now and any one of us could lead the wrong people back to Verde Lago. I didn’t want to miss the chance to see you, to talk to you. Alone, if we can."
Together, they stepped out onto a small, cramped back porch, the space intimate and removed from the rest of the world. The trees around it seemed to be reaching out for the space, encroaching but also protecting. Rose took a deep breath, her eyes searching Harry's.
"Harry, you're a good man," she began, her voice steady and sure. "You deserve to have a good life. What you did for me, for all of us... it wasn't only on that last day in the apartment building when you were shot. Every day, the sacrifices you made, the risks you took to help the women and children... that saved us. I know you had to do things you didn’t want to in order to stay close. We all know that. I can tell, even now, you’re struggling with that. Please believe me when I say you shouldn’t."
Harry listened, a vulnerability flickering across his usually stoic features. Rose reached out, taking his scarred hands into hers.
"If you're ever in doubt, if you're not sure if you're one of the good guys, you need to hear this from me: you are. Your bravery, your sacrifice, it meant everything. It saved me, not only physically, but in every way a person can be saved."
The porch seemed to shrink around them, the world beyond their words fading into insignificance. In the quiet that followed, a bond was reaffirmed, an acknowledgment of the depth of what they had shared and what they had yet to face.
Harry's eyes, once a well of guarded emotions, now reflected the truth of Rose's words. He didn't have to speak; the gratitude and the silent promise to carry on, to be the man Rose believed him to be, was evident in his gaze. There was a certainty they would kiss as if this moment was pre-ordained. Until that changed.
The sharp crack of a gunshot pierced the calm, the bullet embedding itself into the wooden frame inches from Harry'shead. Time seemed to slow as Harry's instincts took over. With reflexes honed by years of danger, he pulled Rose to the ground, shielding her with his body as they scrambled back inside the house.
Mick was already in motion, his voice a commanding bark as he directed everyone toward the safety of a back room. "Move, now!" he ordered, his eyes scanning for the source of the threat.
In the chaos, Mick tossed a weapon to Harry. Despite the pain radiating from his injuries, Harry's grip on the firearm was steady, his determination clear. He was ready to stand his ground, to protect those who had become his charge.
"Rose, you need to get into the back room with the others," Harry urged, meeting her eyes with an intensity that brooked no argument.
She hesitated, her fear for him etched clearly on her face. "I can't leave you. I just got you back."
"You have to," Harry cut her off, his voice firm. "I've already died once, remember? You can't kill a ghost." A wry smile flickered across his face, a momentary break in the tension.
Rose could see the resolve in Harry's eyes, the unspoken acknowledgment of the depth of his feelings for her. "At least now I know," he continued, his words punctuated by the distant sound of their assailants regrouping. "I know how you feel about me, Rose. That's enough for now. Please go. Hide with the others."
The urgency of the situation left no room for debate. With one last look, Rose's heart heavy with unsaid words, she leaned forward and kissed Harry. It was a kiss filled with all the fear and passion of the moment, a promise of things left unspoken. She clearly wished there was more time, desperate that this wouldn’t be her last shot at kissing him.
Reluctantly, she pulled away and, at Harry's nod, retreated to the back room where the others were gathering, casting one lastglance at the man who had become an unexpected hero in her life.
Harry turned back to the danger outside. They would be coming, guns blazing.
“How many did you see?” Mick asked, taking aim at the front door while Harry pointed his weapon at the small porch. They were nearly back to back in the small space.
“I didn’t see. It was a blur. I wanted to get Rose in the house. I could hear at least two or three of them talking. Yelling after they missed with that shot.”
“We shoot to kill,” Mick said. “These guys are assassins. They won’t miss if they get a round off. Any movement on your end, you pull the trigger.” Mick’s voice was shockingly calm. Harry on the other hand felt every hair on his body standing at attention. His throat strangled with pulsing fear. He’d been in plenty of life or death situations, but knowing he was what stood between Rose and death, made him feel like he was standing on a knife’s edge.
The front door shuddered violently under the force of a kick, splintering at the edges as a man forced his way into the house with a determined brutality. Almost simultaneously, another assailant vaulted over the porch railing with a fluid, predatory lunge, gun at the ready.
Mick reacted with lethal precision, his weapon discharging with a deafening roar, and the first man stumbled back, a look of surprise etched onto his face before he crumpled to the floor. Harry, despite the searing pain from his injuries, remained unfazed, his aim true as he fired at the second man who had made the fatal mistake of underestimating him.
The sound of gunshots was quickly followed by screams from the back room, where the civilians huddled together, fear and panic palpable in the air. Harry’s heart raced, but his handsremained steady, the gun in his hand an extension of his will to protect.
With the immediate threat neutralized, Harry kicked the fallen weapon away from the man on the porch, ensuring there would be no second chances for retaliation. Mick mirrored the action, disarming the man who had breached the door, his movements efficient and well-practiced.
The room was suddenly still, the only sounds the ragged breaths of the living and the quiet sobs from the back room. Harry and Mick exchanged a brief, wordless glance, an understanding passing between them that this was far from over. They had survived the first wave, but the real test was whether they could keep everyone safe until the threat was completely neutralized.
Harry moved quickly to secure the door.
“We can’t stay here,” Mick barked, pushing the door to the back room open. “We’ve got to get these people out of here. There will be more men coming soon. I have to turn this phone on and lead them out of town. You take these people and get them somewhere safer. Gio might know a good spot.”
“I’ll take the phone,” Harry insisted. “If I can draw the men away from here, things will settle and you can take everyone to Verde Lago for protection.”
“Harry, I’m not spending my time debating how this is going to work. I get that we don’t have this clear chain of command, but in the absence of that, I’m the boss. Agree?”
