Updated Apr 20, 2026 • ~4 min read
Chapter 17: Seatac
Nadia
Nadia makes it through security at SeaTac and is heading toward the exit where Viktor’s car is supposedly waiting when she sees Riot striding through the terminal like an avenging angel carved from fury and desperation.
Their eyes meet across the crowded space, and Nadia runs.
Stupid—so incredibly stupid—but instinct overrides logic and she’s sprinting for the exit before her brain can catch up with her body. Behind her, she hears Riot shouting her name, hears the thunder of his footsteps as he gives chase despite his healing shoulder, and some small part of her thinks: *Of course he came. Of course he wouldn’t let me do this alone.*
She makes it maybe fifty feet before his hand closes around her arm, spinning her to face him with enough force that she stumbles.
“What the FUCK are you doing?” He’s breathing hard, whether from exertion or rage she can’t tell, and his grip on her arm is just shy of painful. “You’re walking straight into a trap—”
“I’m saving people Viktor threatened to kill—”
“By DYING? That’s your brilliant plan?” He starts physically dragging her back toward the terminal entrance, and Nadia digs in her heels.
“Let me GO—”
“Not a chance in hell.” He keeps pulling, and when she tries to wrench free, he just adjusts his grip and continues hauling her along like she weighs nothing. “We’re leaving. NOW.”
“Riot, you don’t understand—he’ll kill them—”
“And he’ll kill YOU if you walk into whatever meeting he’s set up!” They’re attracting attention now, people starting to stare and pull out phones to record. “Use your fucking brain, Nadia—Viktor doesn’t make deals. He doesn’t keep promises. You go to him, you die, and then everyone else dies anyway because he doesn’t leave witnesses!”
“I don’t have a choice—”
“There’s ALWAYS a choice! And this one is suicide!”
Airport security is approaching now, attracted by the shouting and the physical altercation, and Riot smoothly produces credentials that make them pause.
“Private security detail,” he tells them with a calm that’s absolutely terrifying given how furious he clearly is. “My client received a credible death threat and is attempting to evade protective custody against professional advice. I’m authorized to use reasonable force to ensure her safety.”
“That’s not true,” Nadia starts, but one of the security officers is already nodding.
“We’ll need to see ID from both of you.”
Riot hands over his credentials and Nadia’s driver’s license that he apparently pickpocketed while dragging her through the terminal, and while the officers are examining them, he leans in close enough that only Nadia can hear: “You can walk out of here with me voluntarily, or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you. Your choice, but we ARE leaving, and you are NOT meeting Viktor.”
Nadia looks at the security officers, considers making a scene big enough that they’ll detain them both, considers screaming that she’s being kidnapped by a crazy person. But then she sees the fear underneath Riot’s fury, sees the way his hands are shaking slightly where they’re gripping her wrist, and something in her chest cracks.
He’s terrified.
Actually, genuinely terrified that she’s going to die, and it’s got nothing to do with professional pride and everything to do with the fact that he loves her and she just tried to sacrifice herself without even saying goodbye.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
The relief that floods his face is almost painful to witness. “Smart choice.”
They leave together, Riot’s hand still wrapped around her wrist like he’s afraid she’ll bolt the moment he lets go, and Nadia tries to figure out when exactly she became the kind of person who runs toward danger instead of away from it.
(She knows when. It was the moment Riot Hawke walked into her office and made her want things she’d sworn she’d never want again.)
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