The messenger blinks, taken aback for a moment.

“I’m just here to relay General Lydell’s message,” he says. “Do you accept his offer or not?”

“Let’s take not,” I answer.

“You’re digging your own graves.”

“We’ll be the judge of that, thanks.”

“Harry will stop negotiating with the Alliance. This will mean war on Monterey.”

“We’re already at war,” Chris says, stopping him. “There’s nothing you can do to stop that now.”

The messenger nods weakly, turning his back on us.

As he gets back into the car, I lock gazes with him. I can see the fear in his eyes, ill-concealed under a façade of bluster and dramatics. He knows that we mean business, and so does Harry.

As the escort leaves, I turn to Chris and Devin.

“Tell the Alliance we’ve engaged,” I say. “Omega’s already made the first move by bombing the coastline. We need to hit back, fast.”

“But we don’t have the numbers or the manpower to stand up to—” Sophia begins, but I cut her off.

“Fight or die,” I say, looking toward the horizon. “Choose your side.”

Chapter Fourteen

This is where I belong, I think.

I am dressed in black. The wind is whipping loose pieces of my red hair into circles as I stand on the crest of a hill just outside of the city. A rifle is slung across my back. Two handguns are strapped to my belt, one to my thigh. I’ve got a couple of knives, a few grenades, and an armor-plated vest.

I am back in my element.

I am in charge again.

We are waiting in a wooded area on the north side of Monterey. The terrain is strangely stepped, veering up and down at jagged angles. Roots of trees twist in different directions. The smell of saltwater and fog and coastal pines is heavy in the air. And all is silent.

We are waiting.

Watching.

I settle into a comfortable position behind a tree, checking my ammunition and weapons. My thin black gloves keep my hands warm but allow movement — potentially quick movement, when the situation calls for it.

Uriah, Andrew, Sophia and Vera are each Lieutenants, each in charge of an individual team of militiamen and women. They are spread out among the woods with their soldiers. I am in the center, the Commander that oversees each Lieutenant and their team. Chris is here with me. He is the top dog when it comes down to it, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Manny will be here soon,” Chris whispers.

“So will Omega,” I say.

He nods.

Our militias have spread out around Monterey, surrounding the city limits like a protective barrier, planning to stop the advance of Omega troops. The Alliance should take care of the warships, and this battle should be over quickly.

I hope.

I am comfortable being out in the woods again, back on the field. I’ve had so many worries and thoughts running through my head this past week, it’s been difficult to focus my efforts on one thing: winning.

“Your father would be proud of you, Cassidy,” Chris says, touching my shoulder.

“You say that like you think he’s dead,” I reply.

“I didn’t say that,” Chris answers. “I’m saying that if he knew what you’ve done with the Alliance, and surviving the Coast Guard cutter…” he breaks off. “He’d be proud. As proud as I am. You’re a strong woman, Cassidy. You’ve grown up. You don’t need anyone’s help anymore. You can stand on your own two feet.”

I look at him, smiling softly.

“Nobody can stand on their own two feet forever,” I say. “We all need friends.”

“True.” Chris kisses my forehead. “Like I said. You’ve grown up.”

I look at him. The eerie silence of the woods is unsettling.

And then I say,

“How come you’ve never told me you love me?”

There it is. The words that I have been too afraid to say for months are out in the open. I can see them sinking into his skin, registering in his brain. His expression becomes taut, his eyes troubled.

“What makes you think I don’t?” he asks, and his voice is low, defensive.

“Because you’ve never said you do,” I reply.

“I think my actions speak for themselves.”

“Sometimes words need to be said,” I say. “Sometimes people die and you never get the chance to tell them what you should have.” I frown. “Chris. Do you love me? I think you do. I mean, we’ve been through everything together. We’ve given each other everything. If you don’t love me by now, you’re never going to.”

Saying those words out loud is terrifying to me.

If Chris denies loving me, our relationship will be over. I have known that for months, but I have never dared myself to even let my mind wander in that direction. Yet it is true. If Chris doesn’t love me now, I can’t force him to later.

Love is not made. Love just happens.

But I will always love him, no matter what.

“When they told me that you were dead,” Chris says, choosing his words with care, “I didn’t know what I would do if they were right. The Golden Shark was completely capsized. Everyone was dead. Captain Adams, the entire crew. We recovered their bodies, but you weren’t there.” I see darkness in his face, and I realize how difficult that must have been for him. “I had to know. I took a diving team into the bay and we searched for your…” Here he stops to clear his throat. “We searched for your body. Didn’t find it. But I couldn’t believe you were dead. I didn’t let myself.” He presses the tip of his finger to my cheek. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“You’re a good man, Chris,” I say. “But do you love me or not? I have to know. Do you understand? I have to. No more games. No more avoiding the question.”

Chris takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“Of course I do, Cassie,” he whispers. “I love you more than anything else in this world. You’re the light of my life. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

When he says this, my eyes fill with tears.

How long have I waited for him to say those words?

An eternity. I’m sure of it.

“Why didn’t you just tell me sooner?” I say, trembling.

“Because…” Chris sighs. “Because of Jane.”

I check my left and right, slide my hands down my rifle, swinging it into place in my arms. “Jane was your wife,” I say.

Chris nods.

“What happened to her?” I ask.

Chris runs a hand over his face, so handsome, so weary.

“I met her in San Diego,” he tells me. “I was in SEAL training on Coronado Island at the time. She worked as a concierge at the Del Coronado Hotel, right on the beach. Famous place, big draw for celebrities and rich people.” He laughs beside himself. “She was… a lot like you. Spunky, strong-willed. Nobody was going tell her how to live her life. I fell in love with her. We got married after a couple of years, and she moved around the country with me every time I was deployed.”

He pauses, gathers emotional energy, and continues.

“My missions overseas at the time were… high risk,” he says. “Higher than usual. I was on a hit lit. Terrorists put a price on my head. A lot of SEALs on my team did a pretty good job of keeping their identities and their home addresses a secret, but every once a while… information would leak.” He looks at the sky. “I was on an assignment in Baghdad, Iraq. Assassination mission. I got a call.” He stops. His voice quivers, and for the first time I see a flash of a heartbroken man, a scared man. “Jane had been killed. My parents found her dead in our living room. It looked like the house had been torn apart. She’d been shot four times.” He makes a fist and lays it against the trunk of the tree, above my head. “Terrorists. They killed my wife to get to me. But, being the spineless cowards that they are, did it while I was overseas. Killed an unarmed, innocent woman, because they knew I wasn’t home to protect her.”

“My God, Chris,” I breathe. “I’m so sorry.”