Page 27 of What Remains

He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to stay loose. He'd learned on long missions that tension made him sloppy. Still, his pulse beat too rapidly in his ears.

Darkness didn't scare him. Neither did the quiet, or even the infected if he was being honest.

Failing again—that scared the shit out of him.

He set the rifle across his lap, his fingers drumming a restless, silent rhythm against the cold metal. Watch, back at the cabin, would have curled up at his feet by now, chin resting on Seth's boot, an unspoken reassurance that someone else kept vigil too. Seth swallowed the ache of missing the stupid mutt.

Focus.

He scanned the forest on the far side of the dealership. Nothing moved except loose siding creaking gently in the wind.

Behind him, muffled through the bay, came a soft laugh—Cara's, sleepy and unguarded. Jay murmured something low in response, and the quiet that followed felt settled, peaceful.

Seth smiled faintly into the dark.

He shifted again, letting the rifle settle more comfortably across his knees.

But with the stillness came memory, uninvited and merciless.

He saw the glint of her engagement ring. He saw her lean against the kitchen counter, feigning strength when exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. He heard the soft, singsong voice she reserved only for the baby.

"Hey, sweetness... mommy's right here..."

He remembered her fingers pushing his hair back, always brushing that one stubborn lock from his eyes. And her laugh. God, he missed that laugh. High, bright, almost too loud, but he'd loved every note of it.

The memory settled in his chest.

AJ's tiny fingers gripping his shirt. Molly's last scream. The gunshots. Darkness. The bone-deep cold of that walk-in freezer.

Seth's vision swam. He blinked, forcing the scene away, his jaw tightening until it ached. The world blurred, then sharpened again as he fought for focus.

He wasn't that broken man anymore—waiting for death. Jay dragging him from that freezer had pulled him back into the world, a rescue that carried a responsibility he refused to squander. He would not fall apart again. Not on this trip. Not while Cara and Jay depended on him. Not with Addy pregnant back home, and Sawyer defending the cabin that had become—hell, his home too.

Seth sat up straight.

A faint rustle. Too deliberate. Not wind. Not settling metal.

Something was moving.

He raised the rifle in one fluid motion, finger hovering just outside the trigger guard, breath held. His vision narrowed to pinpoints of clarity at the far edge of the lot.

A deer materialized between two abandoned cars, head down, picking through the early spring growth, its ears twitching nervously with every step.

He swept his gaze across the darkness beyond the lot, heart hammering, and found nothing.

He would keep watch. He would keep them safe, even if it meant putting a bullet through anything that moved wrong in the night.

Chapter 6

Good Morning & Good Night

“Hey…hey, love bug.”

Josie whispered, curling her body around Layla’s small form, sharing her warmth. She brushed a soft kiss against her daughter’s temple, the familiar scent of sleep-tangled curls grounding her in a moment that still resembled normal.

Layla’s eyes fluttered open, brightening with the innocent wonder of a child untouched by fear.

“Hi, Mommy,” she said, her voice thick with dreams.