Page 120 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

I’ve seen Gabe angry. I’ve seen him cold. Focused. Dangerous.

But never broken.

Not like this.

He’s bleeding too. His blood smells different from Hank’s. Older. Drier. But it still clings to my fingers when I press his thigh. Still proof that I could lose him too.

“We’re being tracked.” Blake’s voice slices through the night like a wire pulled too tight. Tension snaps across the boat. Everybreath holds. Every heart waits to shatter. “Something in the water. Closing fast.”

A current of dread curls low in my stomach.

“What kind of something?” Rigel asks, already moving toward the bow.

Blake glances at a handheld thermal scanner. “Not marine life. Not natural. Drone or torpedo. Maybe both.”

Gabe doesn’t flinch. Just shifts slightly, shielding Hank and me with his body.

I try to focus, but the world keeps narrowing to the wound beneath my hands. I press harder. Feel a sluggish pulse. Too weak. Too slow.

Please, no. Not him.

Another wave slams into the hull. Salt spray stings my raw neck where the collar used to be. The freedom burns more than the restraint ever did.

“Two contacts now,” Blake growls. “They’re flanking us.”

I don’t lift my head. Don’t care. Let them come.

Just let me keep Hank.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, dragging my sleeve across my face. “You said we were a team, remember? Three of us. All in. You don’t get to leave.”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even twitch.

Gabe’s breathing grows louder. Rough. Fraying. Like he’s seconds from doing something reckless.

I meet his eyes. “We’re not losing him.”

His throat works, once, twice, three times before he finds the words.

“No. We’re not.”

He says it like a promise. Like a threat. Like a prayer.

Somewhere behind us, the boat’s engines scream as the throttle slams forward. Another explosion lights up the cliff face,turning the sea orange for half a breath. The team’s still covering us. But I know—we all know—we’re not out yet.

And Hank… Hank is barely hanging on.

His lashes flutter. Just once. I freeze, fingers splayed on his chest, afraid to believe it. His heart thuds once under my palm. Not strong. But there.

I lean down, press my forehead to his. Close my eyes. His skin is ice against mine.

I curl around him, shielding his body with mine as chaos churns just beyond us. His blood seeps into my clothes, warm and terrifying. I lower my lips to his ear, my breath shaky against his skin.

“I love you,” I whisper, soft enough that only he can hear. “So you fight. You fight, Hank. For me. For Gabe. For us.”

His eyelashes flutter against my cheek like the ghost of a promise. I clutch him tighter, refusing to let go of the warmth still in his body, the fight I swear I can still feel in his chest.

For a breath, there’s only the hush of wind across the water. The thunder of my pulse. The ache behind my eyes. He stirs, and the world restarts.