Page 272 of Operation: Defiance

Chapter Eighty-One

Asher

The room is quiet again. My breath is raspy and strained. If I had any bandwidth left for the emotion, I’d worry.

I don’t know what time it is. I’ve lost that. But I know the message is still in my hand because I can feel the fold of the paper against my palm. My fingers are half numb, my arms stretched to their limit and my shoulders screaming.

But I focus on the edges of the paper, and I don’t care about anything else.

I’ve been trying to figure out why they let me keep it. They took everything else. The empty water bottle. Any hope of sleep. But they left this. Either it was an oversight—which I don’t believe—or Voss made a calculated decision. Maybe he thought reading her words, words he thought meant she was abandoning me, would break me faster. Or that watching me with it would give him something he could use.

It probably has.

I find I don’t particularly care.

It’s all I’m holding onto right now. The pain is just information at this point, catalogued and set aside. But the specific weight of folded paper against skin… It’s everything.

Follow my lead.

Phil said something on his way out. Offhand. Quiet. Something about damage control. Lawyers. A video watched by more than a million people.

A million.

I close my eyes.

Raine knows what she’s doing.

The paper crinkles slightly as a spasm tightens my fingers. I force them to loosen. Carefully.

My job is to give her time.

Have I given her enough? Because I don’t have much left.

But I can hold on a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Chapter Eighty-Two

Raine

Inara pulls into the garage, idling a few feet from the elevator, and checks her phone. “Brett and Toby are safely stashed in one of our hidey holes. He’s recording his affidavit now. You’ll have it the minute he’s done.”

I nod, but the motion lags half a second. “Thank you. Really. For everything.” The gratitude is easy. This next part? It’s harder. “When Asher is— One of us will call you.”

Inara studies me, head tilted to the side, a slight frown curving her lips. “I’m coming up.”

“You don’t have to⁠—”

She gives me the side-eye, puts the car in reverse, then pulls into a space close to the elevator.

The garage tilts a few degrees to the left as I get to my feet. My fingers curl around the doorframe, knuckles white, until the world steadies itself. “I’m fine,” I say—as much to myself as Inara.

“Uh huh. Most people who are ‘fine’ don’t announce it.”

In the elevator, Inara stands slightly closer than necessary. Not touching. Near enough to steady me if the floor tilts again.

I focus on breathing, and getting inside the apartment so I can remove my hat and sunglasses. They were easier to tolerate today, but still far short of comfortable.