Page 13

THIRTEEN

Blaze

“Options?” Jon wheezes, clearly at the end of his endurance.

Before I can answer, a spotlight blazes to life, pinning us in its harsh glare. A voice booms out, amplified and distorted.

“This is the NYPD. You are surrounded. Lay down your weapons and put your hands in the air.”

Fuck.

I raise my hands slowly, mind whirling. How do I explain this situation? Armed men, traumatized kids, a half-dead civilian… It looks bad, really bad.

Then, a miracle of miracles, a familiar voice cuts through the chaos.

“Stand down. Friendlies on site. I repeat, friendlies on site.”

Jenny. Thank God.

I turn to Ember, a grin splitting my face despite the exhaustion. “Told you we’d get out.”

“I think I told you we’d get out,” she retorts, her defiant streak on full display. She manages a shaky smile, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Her spirit, even after everything we’ve been through, hits me like a punch to the gut. This woman, who’s been through hell and back, still has the fire to challenge me.

It’s—intoxicating.

“Fair enough,” I concede, my voice softer than intended. “I guess I owe you one.”

Ember raises an eyebrow, a hint of her earlier snark returning. “One? I’d say you owe me at least three. Maybe four.”

A chuckle escapes me, surprising us both. “I’ll start a tab.”

In the harsh light of the floodlamps, I see her clearly. Dirt and grime streak her face, her hair is a tangled mess, and there’s a nasty cut above her left eye that’ll need attention.

But her eyes… God, her eyes. They’re alive with a fire that makes my heart race in a way that has nothing to do with our recent escape.

I want to reach out and brush away a strand of hair that’s fallen across her face. The urge to protect her and shield her from further harm is overwhelming.

This just got personal.

“You did good in there.” I keep my voice low, meant for her ears only. “Not many could have kept it together like that.”

She looks away, a mix of emotions crossing her face. “Yeah, well, not my first time in a tight spot.”

The words are casual, but there’s a weight behind them that speaks volumes. I’m reminded of the mysteries surrounding her, the trauma I sensed earlier. My curiosity burns but now’s not the time. Still, I make a silent promise to myself to unravel the enigma that is Ember Winters.

“Come on,” I say, gently guiding her toward the waiting medics. “Let’s get you checked out.”

She leans against me as we walk, whether from exhaustion or something else. The contact sends a jolt through me, awakening feelings I never thought I’d have.

Dangerous territory, Hawkins. Reel it in.

But even as I think it, I know it’s too late. Ember Winters has gotten under my skin, and I have a feeling she’s there to stay.

As the team secures the area, I allow myself a moment to breathe.

To process.

But looking at Ember, I’m struck by the haunted look in her eyes and how she holds herself—arms wrapped tightly around her body as if trying to keep herself together.

The next few hours pass in a blur of debriefings, medical checks, and paperwork. The kids are whisked away to child services, and Daniel is taken to a hospital.

Through it all, I keep Ember in my peripheral vision, unwilling to let her out of my sight. Finally, as the first hints of dawn lighten the sky, Jenny pulls me aside.

“Good work out there, Delta-Five,” she says, her voice low and tired but tinged with pride. “You brought them all back alive. That’s a win in my book.”

I nod, too exhausted for words. Jenny glances over at Ember, who’s huddled in the back of an ambulance, a shock blanket draped over her shoulders.

“What about her?” I ask, unable to keep the concern from my voice. “We can’t just cut her loose.”

Jenny sighs, rubbing her temples. “She’s an adult, Hawkins. Legally, we can’t force her to accept medical care or protection. If she wants to walk away, we have to let her.”

My jaw clenches. “She can’t refuse something if she doesn’t know she can refuse it.” The words come out sounding all kinds of wrong before I can stop them.

Jenny’s eyes narrow. “Careful, Delta-Five. That’s bordering on unethical.”

I hold up my hands. “I’m not talking about lying to her, but you know as well as I do that it’s all in how we present it. If we frame it right, make her understand the danger she’s in…”

“You seem invested in this,” Jenny observes, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp. “Something I should worry about?”

“No. I’m solid.”

“Good.”

“But, I’ll take responsibility for her. She needs protection, at least until we’ve rounded up the rest of the Night Pack.” I meet Jenny’s gaze steadily.

“Just protection?” She raises an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Whatever she needs,” I say firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Jenny studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Fine, but if she refuses, you can’t force her. And Hawkins?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep it professional. The last thing we need are complications.” Jenny gives me a look that speaks volumes. Nothing goes over her head.

As Jenny walks away, I turn back to look at Ember. She’s still huddled in the ambulance, looking small and vulnerable, but I’ve seen the fire in her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw.

She’ll refuse help if given the choice. She has the look of a runner, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t let her disappear back into the streets, not with the Night Pack still out there. Not when the thought of her in danger makes my chest tight with an emotion I’m not ready to name.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation ahead. I’m not above using every trick in the book to keep her safe. Even if it means bending the truth a little. Even if it means crossing lines I’ve never crossed before.

I wander over to Ember, each step feeling like I’m moving through molasses. She looks up as I approach, her body tensing, eyes searching for an escape route.

“Hey,” I say, keeping my distance. “How are you holding up?”

Ember doesn’t respond immediately. Her gaze locks onto mine, wary and exhausted. When she finally speaks, her voice is raw.

“I just want to go home.”

The simplicity of her statement catches me off guard. There’s no sarcasm, no bravado—just bone-deep weariness.

“I get that, but it’s not that simple. The people who took you are still out there.”

“They didn’t take me. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean nothing to them. I just want to forget this ever happened.”

I take a step closer, careful not to crowd her. “It’s not safe for you to go home.”

“Safe?” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Nothing in my life has ever been safe. I can take care of myself. Always have.”

“I believe you, but this is different. These people won’t let you walk away.”

Ember wraps her arms tighter around herself, a gesture that seems more about holding herself together than warding off the cold.

“So, what? You’re gonna protect me? Lock me up ‘for my own good?’?”

The distrust in her voice is palpable, and it hits me hard. I realize that in her world, help always comes with strings attached.

“No,” I say firmly. “No locks, no cages. But I am asking you to let us help. Just until we can be sure you’re safe.”

She stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighs, the fight seems to drain out of her.

“Fine. But the second I want out, I’m gone. No questions asked.”

I nod, understanding the weight of the concession she’s making. “Deal.” I stand, offering her my hand. “First, we get you cleaned up and fed. Then we figure out the rest.”

She hesitates for a moment, then takes my hand. Her fingers are cold, trembling slightly, but her grip is firm. As I help her to her feet, I’m struck again by the strength in this woman. After everything she’s been through, she’s still standing.

As we walk toward the waiting SUV, I feel like I’m walking a tightrope. One wrong move and Ember will disappear, but something tells me keeping her safe and earning her trust might be the most important mission of my life.

Jenny and Mac join us at the waiting SUV. Aria Holbrook is placed inside the other SUV with Charlie, Brett, and Jon escorting her.

It feels like the dead of night, but the sky is brightening with each step. I meet Ember’s gaze, seeing the fear fading, replaced by gratitude, and something else—something warm and dangerous.