Page 216 of Operation: Defiance

A hint of light returns to her eyes. “Yes. I’m so wiped. I should have thought of that.”

“What else do you need to go public?” I ask.

Raine draws in a slow, measured breath. “All of the logs from Coherent Path. Not just the thirty days you stole. Everything. And the Procedure Index. It’s the only way I’ll be able to interpret what they did…to me. Without that, all I have are broken fragments of memory that can be written off as delusional. But if we try to get into the facility…we won’t come back out again.”

We sit in silence for several minutes, Raine pushing her pasta around the bowl rather than eating. A fine tremor shakes her fingers, and her gaze isn’t tracking. She’s somewhere dark and dangerous, somewhere that isn’t here. I fight the urge to drag her back—to drag her to me—because I could do more harm than good.

If I’d been any later—if my target had stayed in Northbridge—fuck.

Northbridge.

“We don’t need to get inside the black site.” I keep my voice soft, hoping it’s enough to pull her back to the present, and set my bowl on the coffee table.

Raine blinks slowly, gives the smallest shake of her head, and focuses on me. “What?”

“My client? The one who sent me to Northbridge in the first place? He said he had a contact inside. That’s how he knew the target was there.”

Her spine straightens, and suddenly she’s fully present again. Calculating angles, running through all the different ways this could go wrong—or right. “Coherent Path isn’t going to let some random Northbridge employee into their computer system.”

“They let me in.” I offer her one of my most convincing stares. The one I’ve perfected over a decade of bluffing my way into places I had no business accessing. “Confidence does most of the work. Badges are merely decoration.”

A faint smile curves her lips. “You have an alarming amount of faith in the laziness of humanity.”

“I do. Because I’ve already seen it in action. No one raised a brow when I walked you out of there. My shirt was the wrong color, my shoes probably cost twice anyone’s monthly salary, and my cologne didn’t smell like fear and hopelessness.”

Raine’s eyes soften. “Your voice was wrong,” she says. “That was the first thing I noticed. But after that...I remember thinking you smelled too good to be one of them. Send the message. It’s worth a try.”

The dishes cleared and a cup of tea for her in my hand, I return to the couch. The glow of the laptop screen highlights the dark circles under her eyes.

“How much are you likely to get out of those files tonight?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle. I won’t stop her from working. I won’t stop her from doing anything. Not after what they did to her. But she’s wearing herself too thin.

With a sigh, she closes the lid and slides the computer onto the table. “Nothing. My thoughts won’t settle. I’ve tried, but…”

“You’re exhausted. So am I, if I’m honest, and this was a light day in my world.” I pick up the remote and find a channel with nothing but Law & Order reruns. “Can I hold you?”

She curls against me without hesitation, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, careful not to put too much pressure on the still healing bruises. The tension in her muscles starts to ease. By the time the two detectives on screen discover their first body, she’s practically boneless in my arms.

Her mind is still working, though. Every few scenes, she surfaces with a thought or a question. But mostly, we pretend we’re the kind of people who take care of their house plants and have strong opinions on which Law & Order spinoff reigns supreme.

When we finally get ready for bed, Raine’s every movement is careful and controlled, effort conserved not spent. She picks up her book, but sets it back down after a single page.

“I can’t follow it,” she whispers.

“You don’t have to.” Cupping the back of her neck, I kiss her gently, and she responds with a softness that has nothing to do with urgency and everything to do with trust.

Raine isn’t mine. She’d hate that phrase. Along with everything running through my mind right now, if I’m honest. But while she might not be my entire world, she’s most definitely the center of it.

And when she curls on her side, her hand settling against my chest like it belongs there—like it’s always belonged there—I realize I’m dangerously close to falling in love with her.

Her breathing evens out, and the last of the tension drains away. Only then do I reach for my phone.

Need to talk to your Northbridge contact. I know what I’m asking for. Whatever the cost is, I’ll pay it.

I don’t even know if the number he used to hire me is still active. But if it is, he’s our best shot. And if not…Inara and her team might have to get their hands dirty.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Raine