Page 39 of Holding the Line
Ezra nodded.“More than enough.If he’s hiring ghosts, it means he’s not trying to hide anymore.He’s planning something loud.”
Marsh finally stepped away from the window, his hand brushing lightly across Eli’s blanket-covered shoulder.“Then we get louder.”
Blake entered quietly, carrying a tray of meds and supplies.He checked the IV line, adjusted the flow slightly, and changed out a syringe.“He’ll sleep deeper for a while,” he murmured to Marsh.“Give the painkillers time to reset his system.”
Eli mumbled in his sleep, voice slurred and barely audible.“Marsh ...will always choose you ...love you.”
Bateman snorted from the corner.“Jesus.He’s a romantic junkie even under sedation.”
Marsh didn’t flinch.“Ah, no.You don’t get to talk shit to my man on this topic.Remember that farmhouse in Chechnya we were all holed up in that time?You curled up like your body couldn’t decide if it wanted to give up or not.You think I didn’t hear the way you whispered Blake’s name in your sleep?How you loved the man, and that marrying him was the best damn thing you’d ever done?That’s what this is.”
Bateman lifted a brow but smirked.“Fair call.”
Hogan, leaning against the wall near the foot of the bed, glanced around.“Should we reach out to Kai?He’s still got contacts in signals intel.Might be able to pick up the mercs’ chatter.”
Bateman nodded, already pulling his phone from his pocket.“Worth a shot.”He stepped out of the room.
Ricky moved toward where Ezra had taken a seat, reached down, and pulled him to his feet before sitting down on it himself, and pulling Ezra down onto his lap.
Ezra didn’t resist, just glanced over his shoulder with a wry smile.“You’re really not subtle, you know that?”
Ricky grinned.“No need for subtlety when I am just claiming what’s mine.”
A minute later, Bateman returned, frowning at his phone.Hogan arched a brow.“That was fast.”
“He didn’t answer,” Bateman said, tone gone flat.He looked up slowly, concern flickering in his eyes.“Kai always answers.Something’s up.”
A chill settled low in Marsh’s spine.That kind of silence didn’t sit right—especially not from a man like Kai, who treated intel like oxygen.Something was brewing.Marsh could feel it in the way the air had turned sharp, the way instinct itched beneath his skin.
He looked back down at Eli, watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, the gauze taped against his upper arm.His hand curled into a fist at his side.
Marsh looked back down at Eli, then to the group, voice low but steely.“This is the last time he gets hurt.Next time someone tries, they don’t walk away.Not ever.”
****
The next morning broughtwith it a shift in energy—less like recovery and more like preparation.Eli noticed it the second he stepped outside.More personnel had arrived overnight—trained, armed, alert.The hum of drills and muted conversation filled the Ridge, but so did the underlying thrum of tension.Security had tripled.Patrols rotated with military precision.It wasn’t paranoia.It was DEFCON.
Eli walked from the Ridge House to the Comms building, noting the increased surveillance coverage and temporary barricades positioned around construction zones.His steps slowed as he passed the edge of the training fields and caught sight of the lab’s back doors propped open.Curiosity tugged at him.Marsh’s innovation lab.
He slipped inside quietly, letting the door whisper shut behind him.
The sound of footfalls on the curved treadmill echoed in the wide space.Marsh was running hard—shirtless, only in fitted black shorts, sweat slicking down his back and chest, a running blade extending from where his prosthetic usually sat.He moved like a predator loosed from its cage, all precision and explosive grace.
Eli didn’t say a word.Just stood there, awe trickling in slow and hot.The sheer speed of him, the relentless pace, the control—it was unreal.Superhuman.
Marsh slowed to a walk, rolled his shoulders back, and turned without breaking stride.He grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief.“If you’re gonna stare that hard, the least you could do is buy me dinner first.”
Eli snorted.“If you didn’t want to be stared at, maybe don’t do something that makes you look like a damn Marvel hero.”
Marsh stepped off the treadmill, breathing heavier now, chest rising and falling fast but even.He grabbed a towel from the nearby bench, dragged it across his face and neck.“You here to gawk or did you miss me already?”
Eli smirked but stepped closer.“You were touchy this morning.Not in a bad way.Just...not your usual.I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Marsh tilted his head, then nodded slowly.“Fair.But I’m not the one who took a bullet yesterday.”
“I’m not the one running like his ghosts are nipping at his heels either,” Eli replied.
They sat side by side on the edge of a worktable, close enough to feel each other’s heat.