The new safe house was nothing like the cabin.
It was an old ranger's station tucked deep in the forest, abandoned years ago and forgotten by all but the trees. A small woodstove still worked. The single bedroom smelled like cedar and time. There were no cameras, no cell signals. Just silence and pine and breath.
Elena stood at the threshold of the room, arms crossed, staring at the made-up bed like it might vanish.
Liam leaned in the doorway behind her, freshly bandaged from a gash she hadn't seen him get. His voice broke the quiet.
"You can sleep first. I'll take watch."
She turned. "No. I want to stay awake a little longer. Just… be here."
A pause.
"Do you remember the last time you weren't afraid?" she asked.
Liam looked past her, as if searching the dark for an answer. "Before Afghanistan," he said finally. "Before I knew what people were capable of."
Elena nodded. "Before him," she said quietly.
They didn't speak for a while. The fire crackled softly in the corner. Rain tapped gently on the windows, but this storm didn't feel like the others. This one stayed on the outside.
Elena moved to the bed and sat, tugging off her boots, letting herself settle.
Liam stepped closer, still watching her like she might shatter.
"You're not broken," he said.
She looked up.
"You think you are. But you're not."
He dropped down beside her, hands braced on his knees. She could see the tension in him, still coiled like a spring even after miles of running.
"You keep saving me," she said. "Why?"
Liam didn't smile. He just met her gaze, unwavering. "Because I see the way you keep standing up. Even when no one's looking."
Her throat tightened.
"Do you always have to be the one who's strong?" she asked.
"No," he said softly. "Not with you."
And for the first time, truly, he let his guard down.
He leaned into her touch as she reached for his face, her fingers tracing the faint stubble on his jaw. The kiss that followed wasn't rushed. It wasn't about need or fear.
It was about choosing someone—even when the world kept trying to take everything away.
Chapter Six: The Quiet Between (Extended)
Elena wasn't sure when sleep claimed her, only that when she woke, the fire was lower and the world felt different. A soft haze of light crept in through the blinds—dawn, hesitant and pale. Liam was still in the chair, but his head had dropped back, mouth parted slightly. Asleep.
She studied the angle of his jaw, the scar above his temple she hadn't noticed before. The quiet strength of him. A protector forged in fire and shadow.
He stirred, sensing her gaze. His eyes blinked open, still sharp despite the exhaustion.
"You were watching me," he murmured.
"I was making sure you were real."
He smiled faintly. "Still here."
She sat up, brushing loose hair behind her ear. "Do you think it's over? Just for a while?"
Liam stood and stretched, shirt riding up just enough to show the sculpted plane of his stomach. "It's never over," he said, but softer than before. "But it can be… paused. If we're careful."
He handed her a mug of coffee—weak, bitter, warm. "Only thing in the cabin. Hope you don't mind drinking your caffeine like you're on a stakeout."
She took a sip and made a face. "God. Tastes like despair."
He chuckled. "You get used to it."
A knock at the door stopped everything.
They froze.
Another knock. Three taps, slow and deliberate.
Liam moved first, gun already in hand. Elena followed his lead, her heart pounding.
He opened the door a crack.
An older man stood there—tall, bearded, calm. "Name's Keller," he said. "Friend of Ronan's."
Elena blinked. Ronan. That was the name Liam muttered in his sleep last night.
Liam's jaw tensed. "You weren't supposed to find me."
"I wasn't looking for you," Keller said. "I was looking for her."
Elena stepped into view.
Keller nodded. "You've stirred a hornet's nest, lady. You and your ghost here."
He handed Liam a flash drive. "Everything we had on the guy hunting her. You'll want to move fast."
"Why are you helping us?" Elena asked, her voice hard.
Keller's eyes softened. "Because once upon a time, Ronan saved my sister's life. This is me paying him back."
He left without another word.
—
That night, they sat in front of the fire again—closer now, their knees brushing. Liam plugged the flash drive into his battered laptop. Images flickered on the screen—photos, dossiers, records scrubbed from official databases.
Elena gasped as a familiar face stared back at her.
"It's him," she whispered. "He found me once already. And he won't stop."
Liam's voice was steady. "Then we make sure he can't."
She looked at him, and in his eyes, she saw it—not vengeance.
Resolve.
And for the first time, she believed they could win.
Not just survive.
Win.