Page 106 of Duty Devoted
“Clear!” Ty called out.
“Clear!” Volante echoed.
I reached Lauren in two strides, pulling her up and checking for injuries. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She was shaking slightly but standing. “Is he?—?”
I glanced at Diego’s body. Very dead. “Yeah. Both Silvas are done. You don’t have to ever worry about them again.”
“Alpha team, collapse on the bird,” I ordered. “Time to go home.”
We sprinted for the helicopter. Reinforcements would be coming, but for now, we had a window.
“Load up!” I shouted.
One by one, the team climbed aboard through the side doors. I kept Lauren tight against me, shield between her and any potential threats.
“You hit?” Lauren’s hands found my chest, checking for blood.
“I’m good. Go!”
I pushed her toward the door, where Jace pulled her inside. Jolly followed, then Ben. Ty climbed in, still firing. I came last, spraying rounds to keep heads down.
“We’re up!” I shouted to Volante in the pilot seat. “Go, go, go!”
The Bell lifted off heavy, engines screaming. Through the open door, I saw the compound shrinking below. Muzzle flashes sparked like angry fireflies as we climbed out of effective range.
“Anyone hit?” I called out.
“Ty took one in the shoulder,” someone from Bravo team called out while applying pressure to the wound. “Clean through. He’ll make it.”
I found Lauren pressed against the bulkhead, eyes closed, breathing hard but whole. Alive. Safe.
“Hey.” I touched her face gently, needing the contact. “You okay?”
She opened those green eyes, and despite everything—the drugs, the kidnapping, the firefight—she smiled. “You came for me.”
“Always.” The promise carried more weight than a single word should hold. “I’ll always come for you.”
She pulled me down and kissed me hard, not caring about the audience. When we broke apart, Ty was grinning.
“So I guess the elevator worked?” Jace asked.
“Shut up,” Lauren and I said in unison.
The helicopter banked hard, heading for international waters and safety. Below, the Silva compound burned—someone’s wayward RPG had found a fuel depot.
Both Silva men were dead. Father and son, their reign of terror finally ended.
I pulled her against me as the jungle gave way to coastline. She tucked her head against my shoulder, and I felt her body finally relax. Around us, my team did what operators did after a successful mission—checked weapons, tended wounds, and talked shit to burn off adrenaline.
“Logan?” Lauren’s voice was soft, meant just for me.
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t leave me.”
The words hit harder than any bullet. “Never again. I promise.”
