Page 26 of Holding the Line

Pack the bag in the closet.Wipe his files from the Ridge network.Email Ezra—apologies, explanations, rehab plans.The schematics for the water therapy project.The prosthetic specs.Everything Marsh would need to recover fully.

He didn’t want to leave it messy.He just wanted to disappear without causing more damage.

He was halfway through wondering if his car would even make it down the mountain—it’d barely gotten him up the damn thing, but surely down would be easier, right?—when he realized Marsh was slowing down.

Not near the Ridge.Not near the turnoff.

“Where are we—?”

“Thought you’d like to be by the water,” Marsh said, his tone unreadable, bringing the truck to a stop and turning off the engine.

Eli blinked.They were at the river—a wide, lazy stretch of it that shimmered in the sun.The water rippled with the breeze, catching the early afternoon light and scattering it like diamonds across the surface.It was breathtaking in its simplicity, a slice of serenity carved out of a world that never seemed to stop spinning.He swallowed hard, the ache for that water blooming in his chest, raw and sudden.His body craved the weightlessness, the silence, the sense of being untethered.

He shifted in his seat, eyes locked on the gentle current.It had always been like this for him—rivers, oceans, even swimming pools.Water was his sanctuary.It was the one place the noise couldn’t follow.Where hands couldn’t find him, where voices couldn’t cut him down.Where he wasn’t a broken man with a past he couldn’t outrun, but just a body moving through water, free and clean and whole.

He didn’t want to want it.Didn’t want to need it so badly.But his fingers curled into fists in his lap, aching with restraint.Even now, even here, his body remembered the promise of solace.

But he didn’t move.“We need to get back.”

Marsh didn’t turn the key.His big hands stayed loose on the wheel, but his jaw ticked once, hard.Silence stretched between them until finally he exhaled through his nose.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Eli frowned, the words slicing through his thoughts like broken glass.“For what?”

Marsh’s gaze stayed fixed on the river, on the way the sunlight fractured over the surface.“Because I am pretty sure that asshole found you through me.I didn’t use my usual systems to run your name.Didn’t bother hiding the query behind enough firewalls.I got sloppy, and it made you easy to find.”He swallowed, the muscle in his throat working.“Rookie mistake.And rookie mistakes get people killed.”

Eli sat back, confusion sharp and unwelcome.“Marsh...”

“I should’ve known you were on the run,” Marsh pressed on, voice hardening against himself.“Should’ve known you needed cover.Should’ve—”

“Stop.”Eli cut him off, sharper than intended.He waited until Marsh finally looked at him, eyes shadowed with self-recrimination.“You’re not psychic.You didn’t know.You take on too much—always carrying everyone else’s weight, like it’s your penance.But you didn’t hand me to the Colonel.That’s on him.Not you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as sharp this time.Still heavy but threaded with something else, something unspoken that hung in the humid air of the cab.Marsh flexed his hand against the steering wheel once, then finally looked at Eli again.

Marsh turned slightly in his seat to look at him.“Tell me about him.”

Eli’s spine went ramrod straight.“No.”

Marsh’s gaze sharpened.“Why not?”

Eli shrugged, going for an indifference he simply did not feel.“Because talking about him means he wins.Means he still matters.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Eli turned sharply.“You don’t get it, Marsh.You don’t know what he’s done—what he’s capable of.Talking about him could bring it all down on your head.On the Ridge.”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“Well, maybe you should be.”

Marsh leaned closer, jaw tight.“He hurt you.”

Eli looked away.“Don’t.”

Marsh leaned in toward him.“I need a name, Eli.”

Eli shook his head.“No, you want a name, Marsh.For control.For vengeance.That’s not how this works.”