Page 28 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1
Hank stands tall, using his height to his advantage.
Harrison’s defensive posture gradually gives way to resignation.
“What’s happening?” I whisper to Gabe, my eyes locked on the confrontation.
“Hank’s making arrangements,” Gabe says cryptically, his arm sliding along the back of the booth behind me. “Your father’s security detail isn’t happy about it.”
My stomach tightens. “Harrison won’t let me leave.”
“He will.” Gabe’s confidence resonates as absolute. “Watch.”
Harrison pulls out his phone, jaw clenching as he reads something on the screen. He looks at me, a question in his eyes. When I nod, he signals his team, and they move out.
“How did Hank…?” I start, but Gabe smiles like a cat caught with a mouse.
“Friends in high places,” he says, echoing words I can’t hear but somehow know Hank is saying.
When Hank returns to our table, his stance radiates success. Gabe seems to read this immediately, but questions swirl in my widened eyes.
“It’s time to go,” Hank says.
Gabe moves first, sliding out of the booth. He extends his hand to me, the gesture both courteous and commanding. I hesitate for a heartbeat before placing my smaller hand in his, wondering if I’m making the right choice or the biggest mistake of my life.
This doesn’tfeellike a mistake.
The walk to their vehicle charges the air like the moments before a thunderstorm. Hank’s hand finds its place at my lower back, guiding me while Gabe takes point. A black SUV waits in the corner of the lot, tinted windows reflecting the late afternoon sun.
Gabe opens the back door, but I pause, glancing between them. I slide in without another word. Some things don’t need to be spelled out.
Hank takes the wheel while Gabe claims the seat behind him, bracketing me between his body and the door. I settle into the leather, my shoulder brushing against Gabe’s. The contact draws a soft inhale from my lips.
The engine purrs to life, but none of us speak. The silence crackles with electricity and potential. Every mile brings us closer to their home, closer to crossing a line we can’t uncross.
My breath quickens when we turn onto an unfamiliar street, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap. Gabe’s hand covers mine, stilling the movement, and a small whimper escapes me.
Their condo welcomes me with subtle signs of their shared life—tactical gear stored carefully in the corners, evidence of two alpha males coexisting through careful boundaries and deep trust. The open-concept living area speaks of precision and power: clean lines, dark leather, and a state-of-the-art security system subtly integrated into the architecture. Two hallways branch off opposite sides, each leading to what must be separate rooms.
I move through the space like I’m cataloging evidence, my fingers trailing along the back of the leather couch, eyes taking in every detail. The wall of tactical gear catches my attention—weapons secured behind reinforced glass, body armor hung with military precision. My reflection fragments across the glass surface as I study the contents.
Hank and Gabe hang back, giving me space. This isn’t about seeing their home—it’s about understanding them—who they are, what they offer, and what we could become together.
I hesitate in the hallway, glancing between the two doors on opposite ends of the house, my brow furrowingslightly. “So … Do you have separate rooms?” My voice stays careful, feeling my way through the question.
“Yes,” Gabe answers smoothly.
I look between them, gathering my courage. “And you don’t … ?” The question trails off as heat rises to my cheeks.
Hank smirks. “We don’t sleep together, luv, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Unless we’re not alone,” Gabe adds, his tone carefully neutral.
I exhale slowly, nodding, but my curiosity remains unsatisfied. I lift my chin, meeting their eyes. “And do you … share often?”
“We always share.” Hank’s voice drops lower, sending a shiver down my spine.
I swallow hard, twisting my fingers together.
Hank moves closer, not touching me, but close enough that I have to tip my head back to meet his eyes.
