Page 173 of Operation: Defiance

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Raine

I tuck a damp lock of hair behind my ear. I miss my special hair towel. And unscented laundry detergent. Whatever Asher uses isn’t…bad. But the vague “ocean breeze” scent lingers long enough to be distracting and reminds me of everything I’ve lost.

The long-range photos Inara sent of my apartment almost sent me into a spiral this morning. At first, I thought everything was fine. But then I noticed the throw pillows on the couch. I always leave them spaced equally. One on each cushion. But in the picture, they were pushed to one side.

The violation was too much. Having someone in my private space. Touching my things. They could have taken anything. As if they haven’t taken enough from me already.

I set it aside long enough to get through breakfast, then disappeared into the shower and let myself cry. By the time I turned off the water, my breathing was steady again.

My shoulder pulls when I zip up the hoodie, the ache following me all the way out to the main room. A deeper breath than I planned sends a flare of pain through my ribs. My balance falters for a step, but I catch myself against the counter.

Asher’s brows lift, but he says nothing as I reorient, then slip into the small kitchenette and rest my fingers briefly over his wrist as he stands at the counter timing his French press.

These little touches are my way of proving that I’m still here. Still me. Still able to choose what I want—who I want.

“I think I might be able to handle a second cup of coffee,” I say. While I can feel all my fingers again, my grip strength is still compromised. The grinder takes more than I have to give—a fact I tested and confirmed earlier while Asher made us an omelet and hash browns.

“Living dangerously?” His smile warms something deep inside me.

“Living.”

Asher flips on the kettle and places the new pour over basket he bought yesterday on top of a mug. Fresh grounds, hot water, a quick stir. The rich scent fills the space between us, steadying.

“I would have kept drinking French press.”

“You deserve to have choices,” he says. “This was an easy one.”

It shouldn’t help—this little bit of normalcy—but it does.

The mug warms my hands, and I take a sip, drawing comfort from the aroma of coffee mixed with Asher’s woodsy scent. My stomach doesn’t protest. Small victories.

Wandering over to the window, I peer down at the street below. At the people going back and forth to work, the cars waiting at the stoplight, the leaves dancing in the wind.

“When I joined GSD, I had a great mentor. Ellen taught me how to pick locks, read a room, and notice what other people usually miss. If anyone can help me make sense of how Coherent Path and GSD intersect…it’s her. She retired six years ago, but she understands the system.”

“Last night, you said you thought she’d survived Coherent Path. You’re sure they won’t be tracking her calls?” he asks.

A pang of guilt hits me square in the chest. “No. But I still have to try. I know what to say. How to start out. If she hangs up, I won’t call her again. But I need context before I move. She’s the only one who can give it to me.”

Asher leans back against the counter. “We can send the call through a VPN and encrypt the connection, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be traced.”

“I know.”

“All right. We’ll manage the risks as best we can. I’ll grab another burner.”

I sit on the couch, my arms wrapped around myself, while Asher digs around in the bedroom closet for a moment.

“Go ahead and power it on,” he says. “I’ll make sure the hot spot’s secure.”

I move through the setup, disabling location services, any account sign-ins, and backups. It takes me less than ten minutes to strip the permissions down to the basics, then install an encrypted voice-over-IP client and connect to the hot spot Asher set up.

The call won’t be invisible, but it will be hard to trace. “Five minutes,” he warns me. “Ten at the most. If the hot spot detects a ping, it’ll sever the connection.”

“The moment I hang up, I’ll pull the SIM card and snap it.”

“Do you want me to stay?”