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Part I – Elena
Morning came slow, bruised and gray.
Rain still clung to the edges of the world, turning the dirt road outside into slick ribbons of mud. From her room upstairs, Elena watched the mist roll through the trees like smoke over water.
The roadhouse smelled like coffee, gun oil, and wet leather. It shouldn't have felt safe — not with armed bikers moving below, voices low and rough — but somehow it did. Or maybe he made it feel that way.
She caught sight of Cole through the crack of the door downstairs.
He was talking with Deke, his voice low, posture tight. His left arm was still bandaged, the fabric darkened from where the wound had bled through again.
He hadn't slowed down since the explosion. Not for one damn second.
She wanted to tell him to rest. To let someone else take over. But that wasn't how men like Cole worked — they only knew how to move forward, even if it meant bleeding on the way.
Her reflection in the window looked back at her — tired eyes, hair messy, hoodie two sizes too big. Not the woman she used to be. But not the same one she was when they found her either.
Something inside her had shifted.
And it had everything to do with the man downstairs.
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Part II – Cole
He felt her eyes before he saw her.
Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was that quiet pull he couldn't name — but when he looked up, Elena was there on the stairs, arms folded around herself, watching him like she wasn't sure she was allowed to.
He gave Deke a nod to take over and headed her way.
"Sleep?" he asked when he reached her.
"Some," she said. "You?"
He smirked. "Not really my thing."
"You mean peace and quiet?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
She smiled faintly — just a flicker — and it hit him harder than he liked.
She had that look again — not fragile, not exactly strong, but somewhere in between. Like she was trying to remember what it felt like to belong to something good.
"You hungry?" he asked.
She tilted her head. "That a trick question?"
"There's food. Not good food, but food."
"Then yeah," she said, her voice lighter. "I'm starving."
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They sat across from each other in the old diner booth by the window — chipped Formica table, mismatched mugs, the world outside still half-drowned in rain.
Deke and a few others worked on their bikes outside, engines coughing back to life.
Cole watched Elena stir her coffee — slow circles, the spoon clinking gently. She seemed calmer today, but her hands still trembled when she thought he wasn't looking.
"You planning to stay quiet forever?" she asked suddenly.
He blinked. "What?"
"You don't talk much. Not about what happened. Not about what's next. You just… lead. Like you don't exist outside the job."
He leaned back, studying her. "That bother you?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "It worries me."
He didn't know what to do with that — the softness in her tone, the care underneath it. It'd been years since anyone worried about him for reasons that weren't survival.
"Elena," he said quietly, "people like me don't get to talk about it. We just keep the wheels turning."
"And what happens when they stop?" she asked.
He didn't answer — because deep down, he already knew.
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Part III – Elena
The day drifted by in fragments — the sound of repairs, the smell of oil, laughter that came in brief bursts from the Reapers outside.
By late afternoon, she found herself standing behind the roadhouse, near the trees. The air was cooler here, quieter.
Cole found her again — he always did.
"Thought you might've run off," he said lightly.
She glanced back. "You think I'd make it two miles in that mud?"
He smiled — a real one this time, rare and fleeting.
For a moment, the world stilled. Rain dripped from the eaves. A single sunbeam cut through the gray, catching the faint scar along his cheekbone.
He stepped closer. Close enough that she could smell the smoke and pine on him, feel the warmth radiating off his skin.
"Elena," he said, voice low, almost rough. "You got a choice to make. You can stay here till it's safe, or you can go. I'll make sure you get out clean."
Her heart clenched. "You want me to go?"
His jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter what I want."
"Maybe it does."
Their eyes locked — something electric, something dangerous. The space between them buzzed with everything they hadn't said.
But then Deke's voice broke through from the doorway. "Prez — we got movement on the outer cameras."
Cole turned instantly, back to soldier mode. "Get everyone inside. Now."
Elena watched him go, the storm brewing in his wake. And she realized the truth:
Every time he pulled away to protect her, he only dragged her deeper in.
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