The ride to the base was a blur.

Charlie didn't remember the turns. Didn't remember the roads. Just the hum of the SUV's tires and the way her breath wouldn't settle no matter how many times Soap or Cam told her she was safe and that she's okay.

Safe.

The word meant nothing when John wasn't in sight.

Soap drove faster than he probably should've, his jaw tight, knuckles white on the wheel. Cam sat shotgun, hand braced on the dash, eyes sharp and scanning every car behind them like she expected another ambush.

Charlie sat in the backseat, arms wrapped around herself tightly, her knuckles ached. Her pulse wouldn't slow. Her chest felt tight—like she couldn't get enough air in no matter how deeply she breathed. As the SUV turned past a high steel gate after Cam flashed a badge at gate keeping device that was a security clearance. She didn't expect to arrive in a place she wasn't familiar with since it was almost like a military base. It wasn't a sleek facility but more like a reinforced hangar tucked behind layers of fencing and security cameras. A military base within a base with some military trucks parked along one side, and a small airstrip stretched into the distance.

Soap parked hard, the tires crunching gravel.

"Alright, we're here," he said, his calm and Gaelic tone rolled his tongue easily. Placing his arms over the steering wheel and sighed in relief.

Her hands were already fumbling for the door handle before the SUV fully stopped. "Is John—?"

Before she could even finish, another engine roared to life nearby. A black motorcycle pulled up alongside them, kicking up a cloud of dust. The rider slowed to a stop. Helmet sleek. Black riding jacket hugging a slim frame. The woman cut the engine, planted one boot on the ground, and swung the other leg over the bike. She pulled the helmet off, letting long dark hair fall free.

Gabby.

Charlie had only ever seen her once—on Simon's phone at a cafe. A face of the woman who'd served alongside John and the others. In person, she looked even sharper. Confident. Dressed in a plain shirt with dark riding trousers and a fitted tactical hoodie. Not a trace of fear was known in her posture. Her sharp brown eyes landed on Charlie first.

"I was wondering when you'd get here." Her tone was calm, but there was a hint of urgency.

Charlie gripped the edge of the door. "Is—" Her throat tightened. "Is John here? Is he okay?"

Cam jumped out quickly. "He's coming, Charlie. Dad and Gaz were right behind us."

She nodded, but it wasn't enough. Her chest still felt tight. The pressure only grew heavier, her vision narrowing around the edges.

Breathe. Just breathe. He's coming. He's safe. He has to be.

But the panic was already clawing up her spine. She barely noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks.

Gabby moved fast.

Before she could bolt or collapse, Gabby crossed the space between them. Her fingerless gloved hand touched her shoulder gently but firmly.

"Hey," Gabby said softly. "Look at me."

Charlie blinked, gasping for breath.

"Hey," Gabby repeated and crouched slightly so they were eye-level. "I know it's a lot. I know what just happened scared you but you're safe here. Nobody's gonna get through these walls. And John will be here any minute. "

Her lips parted, a sob escaping.

Gabby nodded, hand still steady on her arm. "Good. Let it out. Don't hold it in. You've been brave enough."

Cam stood nearby, watching—but letting Gabby take the lead. While Soap gets out last and kept a lookout toward the gates and the surrounding.

Charlie tried to breathe. Really tried. But the ache in her chest tightened. Her hands trembled violently now. She pressed them to her ribs like that would stop the shaking.

"You don't have to hold it together," Gabby said gently.

Her eyes welled over. "I just—it just happened so fast. He always gets back to me—"

"He's coming," Gabby assured her. "He'll be through those gates soon. You know why?"

Charlie shook her head weakly.

"Because there's one thing I've learned about Price. Nothing—and I mean nothing —keeps him from the people he loves. Like you, and Cam."

That hit something deep in her chest.

Her breathing started to slow. Still shaky. Still tight. But Gabby's words pushed back the worst of the fear.

Then, the sound of another engine. Tires. Heavy, fast. A truck approached and another vehicle was following behind.

Their head turned around and Charlie wiped her eyes quickly, heart lurching as she turned toward the sound. She recognized the truck. As it roared through the gates, headlights cut through the early dusk.

She broke into a run.

The second the door opened and John stepped out, she was already running. She barely registered Gabby calling her name, but none of it mattered. Her boots hit the gravel hard, heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

All gone now.

Just him.

John caught her halfway. His arms wrapped around her tight, almost crushing, like he needed to feel every part of her pressed against him. The breath rushed out of him as he buried his face in her hair.

"Christ, love," he breathed roughly.

Charlie pressed her face to his chest, gripping his shirt in tight fists. "You're okay," she whispered and repeated. "You're okay."

"I'm here," he said gruffly, but in a gentle way, eyes closing. His arms didn't ease up. "Got to you as fast as I could."

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

His breath stirred her hair and his heartbeat thundered beneath her ear. Opening his eyes slowly, he could feel her body shaking, just slightly, as if her control was fraying around the edges. He pulled back just enough to cup her face between his large hands. She looked up, eyes wide and almost red, rimmed with tears.

"I'm sorry about this," John said, brushing his thumb beneath her eye.

"What's going on—"

Before she could finish, Cam reached them. She slipped an arm around her dad, pulling him into a side hug, keeping Charlie close on the other side. In return, John wrapped both arms around them, drawing them in close, one on each side. His hands curled protectively over their backs, and he held them both, breathing them in.

"My girls are safe now," he murmured, voice rough but steady.

He pressed a kiss to the top of Charlie's head, then another to Cam's, the gesture instinctive and anchoring.

His girls.

His only remaining family.

In a world that took too much, he had this. And he wasn't letting go.

Charlie clung to his waist, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. Cam leaned into his side, steady and strong, but with relief in her touch too.

"I told you I was ready to fight," Cam said into his chest with a hint of defiance.

That made John huff a short laugh. He squeezed them tighter. "Yeah. You proved your point."

When he glanced up and found Johnny standing nearby—watching the reunion but keeping respectful distance. His face held no cocky grin this time.

John met his gaze and gave a firm nod. A silent thank you. Approval. Trust. For not only getting Cam and Charlie back safe—but for standing between them and the danger without pulling back. For treating Cam with the same respect and loyalty John would've demanded from any man who cared for her.

Soap returned the nod.

"Let's get inside," John finally said, his voice returning to its usual low command. But there was warmth in it too. "We'll debrief later. Charlie, go with Cam. She'll take you home and you get some rest."

Charlie nodded quickly, brushing at her damp cheeks.

He turned his gaze to Cam.

"Soap will fill you in. For now, take my girl home and let me know when you're home and after you drop her. Alright?"

Cam nodded. "I will."

A faint, proud smile. "You did good."

She smiled at him back, and he kissed her hair before looking back to Charlie.

Gabby caught up while her helmet was tucked under her arm and Soap trailed behind. Gaz got out of his car and went up to them as well.

"What the hell just happened?" Soap asked.

"Wasn't random," Gaz said before John could answer.

"Harkin." John added.

Soap frowned in return. "That bastard's still breathing?"

"He sent those men," John confirmed. "Wasn't just after Charlie. They were after me first before her. Payback for what happened at the club."

Charlie gulped. Her eyes dropped, shoulder hunched and her fingers curled tighter into John's shirt.

"This is all my fault," she said weakly.

John looked down at her. "Charlie."

She didn't look into his eyes first.

"Look at me."

Slowly, she did.

Her lip trembled. "If I hadn't—if he wasn't—"

"Stop." His voice was gentle but firm. "Don't you dare start thinking this was your fault."

Her breath caught.

"Nobody was killed, alright?" John continued. "This is our fight. Harkin was coming for me with or without you in the picture. He knows I have the drive."

Charlie nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks a bit more and he kissed her forehead before looking at the crew.

Soap scrubbed a hand down his face before moving behind his back neck. "So what's the play now?"

His arms tightened around both Cam and Charlie.

"Now?" His voice lowered into that dangerous, cold edge his team knew well. "We're going dark tonight."