Page 159 of Override

"You have issues."

"I've been told."

He mutters something under his breath that I'm fairly certain isn't meant for human ears.

"I'll text you the code," he finally says.

"I already know where the key is."

Another beat of silence. "...Of course you do."

I slide behind the wheel, shutting the door quietly before starting the engine.

For the first time since I sprinted across the Gallagher estate, I allow myself to breathe.

Not deeply. Just enough.

Bullet breaks the silence first. "You okay?"

The question catches me off guard. My eyes drift toward the passenger seat. Maeve is watching me now. Not with fear. With exhaustion. The beginnings of bruises are already darkening beneath her jaw.

No. Nothing about tonight is okay.

"I will be."

Bullet doesn't argue. He simply accepts the answer for what it is. "I'll head that way."

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel before pulling onto the narrow dirt road. "Give me an hour."

"...Skee."

"One hour." He knows exactly why I'm asking.

By the time Grayline gets there, Rachel will have blankets. Wheels will somehow have snacks. Matt will want answers. Bullet will check every lock on the property twice before saying another word.

Maeve deserves sixty minutes before all of that.

Another long silence stretches between us. "You've got one hour."

The line goes dead. I set the phone in the center console before easing the SUV onto the empty road. Beside me, Maeve is still watching me.

Don't look at her.

The thought repeats itself somewhere in the back of my mind as I guide the SUV down the empty road.

Eyes forward. Hand on the steering wheel. Breathe. Everything is fine. Everything is absolutely—She's still holding my hand.

I don't look. I don't have to. I can feel it.

Her fingers are wrapped around mine with surprising strength, as though she's afraid that if she lets go, I'll disappear before she wakes up.

My pulse refuses to cooperate.

Statistically speaking, adrenaline should be wearing off by now. Instead, it's getting worse. I have extracted diplomats from active war zones. Pulled a kidnapped journalist out of a cartel compound.

Driven through gunfire with Wheels laughing in the driver's seat because apparently near-death experiences make him hungry.

None of that prepared me for one woman quietly holding my hand.