His assessment stung. We'd become the concerned family members hovering at the periphery while specialists managed the dangerous work.
not
Dorian added his understanding. "We're plan B when plan A goes to hell."
Then, after a pause, he leaned forward slightly. "If plan A goes quiet, we need a timeline for escalation. Who's our direct contact for that authority?"
Michael gave him a long look, measuring, then nodding. "Agent Navarro, embedded with Ho's team. She knows our faces and our roles. If she goes dark, you fall back to me. Chain of command holds."
Dorian sat back, the gears clearly turning. "And if we see something they don't?"
"Then you document. Transmit. Do not initiate. Clear?"
"Crystal," Dorian said, his voice steady.
Marcus navigated another switchback. "Rules of engagement?"
"We maintain overwatch positions. Document everything. Provide medical intervention if casualties develop." Michael's briefing stripped the emotion from what could be a bloody operation. "Our primary objective remains survival to provide testimony afterward."
The SUV climbed through curves carved into steep terrain, the engine working harder as our altitude increased. My ears popped with the pressure changes.
Alex's voice crackled from Michael's phone again. "Federal approach vectors confirmed. Three teams are converging from separate compass points. Estimated time to initial contact—eighty-three minutes."
Less than an hour and a half. Dorian reached for my hand in the space between our bodies, fingers weaving together. The contact anchored me to reality, stopping my spiral through hypothetical catastrophes. His palm was steady, no tremors.
"Communications check." Marcus distributed earpieces.
Static crackled through the devices as James configured encrypted channels. Voices emerged from the electronic noise—federal coordinators confirmed positioning, and surveillance teams reported visual contact with compound perimeter defenses. The swirl of new information made the entire operation real.
Static hissed through the SUV's radio speakers as Michael hunted for clear frequencies, bypassing weather reports and talk radio. Digital interference filled the cramped cabin until Beyoncé's voice exploded into the mountain silence—"Crazy in Love" in all its horn-driven glory.
I turned my head to see James grinning from the cargo area, head bobbing to the aggressive rhythm. In the rearview mirror,Marcus allowed himself a microscopic smile while navigating another hairpin curve.
Dorian turned toward his window, watching Douglas fir blur past. The horns hit first—sharp, swaggering, undeniable. He froze and let out a tiny exhale. Not quite a laugh.
Initially, I thought he was ignoring the song. Then, I heard it—his voice, low and quiet.
“Got me lookin’ so crazy right now…”
His tone was scratchy, barely audible, like he was singing through a memory. His next line was a little louder. He tapped his fingers against his thigh. Something in him was waking up.
He turned toward me, and he smiled.
Not a polite twitch of the lips. Not a smirk. A complete, unguarded, impossibly gorgeous smile.
I examined his face. The swelling around his left eye had finally subsided completely, leaving only faint discoloration that would disappear within days. But the smile wasn't about healing. It was about new life.
"You good?" I asked.
Instead of answering with words, he kissed me, smiling still.
It began hesitantly, knowing we had an audience—lips meeting lips while Beyoncé proclaimed her romantic insanity to the wilderness. Something ignited when I responded, my free hand gripping the back of his neck, and suddenly we were kissing like it might be our final opportunity.
Desire didn't drive the intensity. It was a rebellion. It wasI'm still breathingandyou're still breathingandfuck everyone who tried to destroy this.
Dorian was singing in my brother's SUV on the way to end an international nightmare. If that wasn't worth kissing him senseless, what was?
His fingers threaded through the short hair at the nape of my neck. When we separated, he remained close enough that our foreheads nearly touched.
