Deputies move in. Metal snaps around Marcus’s wrists. He starts protesting, panicking, trying to wriggle free.
“You don’t understand,” he says, voice rising. “He’ll kill me!”
Rafe’s smile is humorless. “Good. Then talk fast.”
I stare at Marcus as they drag him away. All I can see is Fiona’s face when she tried to pretend she wasn’t scared. Fiona’s laugh. Fiona’s flour-dusted smile this morning. This man made her run. Made her lose sleep. Made her feel unsafe in her own skin. He’s done. But it doesn’t feel like enough. Not yet. Because Renshaw is once again still out there.
Silas steps up beside me. “We got him. And we got the women.”
My chest loosens just a fraction. “They okay?”
“Shaken,” he says. “Alive. Eli’s got them.”
Good.
Alive is everything.
Gavin’s voice comes through the radio. “All units, status.”
Silas answers, “Suspect in custody. Three victims recovered. No casualties.”
A beat of silence. Then Gavin exhales. “Copy. Bring them home.”
Home. The word hits different now. Because home isn’t just the compound. Home is Fiona waiting on that mountain.
An hour later,the convoy rolls back into Haven 7 with the women secured and warm, wrapped in blankets, Eli checking them one more time. Deputies take Marcus away in the sheriff’s unit, Silas already on the phone with the DA and the feds.
The compound gates open like a mouth swallowing us back into safety. I barely remember taking off my vest. Barely remember stepping into my cabin. All I know is the second I see Fiona, standing by the porch with Kayley, Emma, and Harper and the babies… my chest goes tight.
She runs to me. Not slow. Not careful. Full speed. I catch her, lift her off the ground, and hold her like I’m proving to both of us that I’m real, I’m here, I’m not gone.
“You’re okay,” she breathes into my neck, shaking.
“I’m okay,” I say. “We’re okay.”
Her hands grip my shoulders. “Did you—did you get him?”
I look at her and let myself be honest. “We got Marcus.”
Her eyes fill instantly. Relief. Rage. Gratitude. Everything. “And the women?” she whispers.
“Safe,” I tell her. “They’re safe.”
Fiona’s breath breaks. She presses her forehead to mine, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I hate this,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say, voice rough. “But it’s over. For him.”
Her gaze searches mine. “And Renshaw?”
I don’t lie. “Still out there,” I admit. “But we’re closing in. Silas and Gavin won’t stop until he’s done.”
She nods, swallowing hard. “Okay.” Then she whispers, “You came back.”
I hold her tighter. “I’ll always come back.”
And as her arms wrap around me like she’s anchoring herself to my ribs, I know something with absolute clarity. This isn’t temporary. This isn’t a fling. It’s my life.
Her. This mountain. The fight. The found family. And when the night finally comes and the compound settles, I take her inside, shut the door, and let the world stay on the other side of the locks. Because the only thing that matters right now is that she’s here.