Page 68 of Operation: Defiance

Chapter Eighteen

Asher

She falls asleep sitting up.

It’s not quick. I don’t think she trusts anything enough to truly let go.

Her head tips back against the padded headboard, then forward again. Her breathing evens out slowly, like it needs permission.

Fuck.

It probably does.

I stay where I am. Far enough away that when she surfaces, she won’t feel someone looming. Close enough to steady her if her muscles give out again.

Her hands still tremble, even in sleep. The bruises along her collarbones and jaw have darkened in the past few hours. Brutal, repeated pressure–—probably over many days—designed to cause the maximum amount of pain. The kind of work that hurts without leaving permanent marks.

I’ve seen injuries like hers before—even caused some of them. But never this severe.

What they did to her wasn’t interrogation. It wasn’t punishment. Pain was incidental.

They were trying to erase someone who’d become inconvenient.

My attention shifts from the injuries to the person bearing them. To Raine herself. An odd sensation creeps into my thoughts, settling low in my gut. A stirring that almost feels like…attraction.

No. Shut it down. Now.

I try, but instead of going away, it resolves into something deeper. Respect. Maybe awe.

Even exhausted, broken, and temporarily still, she’s dangerous. Her body’s been stressed to its limit, but her mind is still strong. If she wanted to, she could end me. Not today. And not without cost. But the capacity is there.

She didn’t need rescuing.

She needed an opening.

I don’t know who signed off on erasing her. Who’s realized, by now, that she isn’t where they left her. How they intend to remedy that situation.

I do know they made a mistake targeting her.

And I don’t let mistakes like that stand.

Not anymore.

Raine

My head jerks.

Pain detonates along my spine. My vision grays. Sensation drops out of my arms, my legs, my face—everything at once, like a breaker flipping.

“Raine.” A man’s voice. Quiet and steady with a hint of concern. I latch onto it before the overload can take me completely. “You’re safe. You’re not back there.”

Asher.

One breath in. Four beats— No. My ribs won’t allow that many. I settle for three. Another three out.

It’s something.

“How long this time?” I ask. My voice is rough, but it holds.