Page 220 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1
Malia’s laughter fades first. “Wait… what just happened?”
Rebel narrows her eyes. “Why do they all look like they’re about to go full combat mode?”
Jenna follows their line of sight—every man now watching them like prey. “Oh, shit.”
Mia exhales. “That’s… that’s the look they get before they breach a compound.”
Sophia leans in, eyes wide. “Did we just… start something?”
“Yeah,” I say, throat suddenly dry. “We declared war.”
And judging by the way Gabe just crooked his finger at me from across the room—we’re going to lose.
Gloriously.
Their attention never strays far.
Charlie team settles into watchful, easy conversation—but it’s all a smokescreen. I can feel the shift, like static prickling across my skin. Every glance from Gabe or Hank carries weight now.
Promise. Threat. Claim.
I retreat behind the espresso bar, focus on the milk frother, trying to pretend my thighs aren’t trembling from remembering. The hum of steam grounds me. Sort of.
But then there’s Gabe—leaning back in his chair, arms crossed,his gaze locked on mine like he’s still picturing me bent over that prep table.
Hank? Still lounging like a panther in repose. Dangerous. Calculating. Smirking.
A flush creeps up my neck as I ferry a tray of drinks to the table of logistics guys, aware of every subtle glance, every silent message exchanged between the Guardians. They’re planning something.
No. They’ve already planned it.
I settle into the rhythm of the shop, but there’s no escaping the anticipation coiling low in my belly.
It’s comical, really—me, Ally Collins, daughter of a tech billionaire, child prodigy in quantum field theory and controlled nuclear fusion—now steaming oat milk and dodging sexual warfare at a secret paramilitary coffee shop.
And somehow? I’ve never felt more alive.
I glance up just in time to catch Hank’s smirk.
Heat floods my chest. My core.
They’re coming for me tonight.
No hesitation. No mercy.
Tonight won’t be about tenderness.
It’ll be about surrender.
And I already know I’ll beg for every second of it.
But then—an alert chimes.
A sharp, synchronized vibration from every phone at the table. Phones are checked. Expressions shift. All amusement vanishes like smoke.
Gabe’s buzzes on the counter beside his half-finished espresso. Hank’s is in his hand before the second buzz hits.
The shift is instant. Ethan’s already on his feet. Blake’s coffee sits untouched as he rises. Walt curses softly. Jeb is already rolling his bad leg like he knows what’s coming. Rigel exhales sharply, gaze darting toward Mia. Carter’s smile drops, and even Max sits straighter at the sudden shift in energy.
