Updated Apr 20, 2026 • ~3 min read
Chapter 20: I Trust You
Nadia
The week of preparation feels simultaneously too long and not nearly long enough—seven days of learning self-defense moves and wire protocols and escape routes, seven days of being surrounded by Riot’s team of terrifyingly competent ex-military specialists who treat the upcoming operation like it’s already succeeded, seven days of trying not to think about all the ways this plan could go catastrophically wrong.
“Again,” Riot says from behind her at the makeshift shooting range they’ve set up behind the cabin, and Nadia adjusts her grip on the weapon he’s teaching her to use, focuses on the target fifty feet away, and squeezes the trigger.
The shot goes wide, and Nadia swears under her breath.
“You’re anticipating the recoil,” Riot murmurs, stepping closer until he’s pressed against her back, his hands coming up to adjust her stance. “Relax. Breathe. Let the shot surprise you.”
“How can I let it surprise me when I’m the one pulling the trigger?” Nadia asks, but she’s already adjusting, leaning back into his warmth and letting his hands guide hers into the correct position.
“Trust the weapon. Trust your training.” His voice is low and intimate despite the professional context. “Trust me.”
She fires again, and this time the shot hits center mass, and the satisfaction that floods through her is probably disproportionate to hitting a paper target but feels earned anyway.
“Better,” Riot says, and there’s pride in his voice that makes Nadia’s chest warm. “You’re a natural.”
“I’m really not,” Nadia says, setting the weapon down and turning in his arms because proximity has become automatic between them. “But I’m trying.”
“I know you are.” He kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth with a tenderness that still surprises her even after weeks of this. “And Nadia—I won’t let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”
“I know,” she says, and realizes with stunning clarity that she means it. “I trust you.”
It’s the first time she’s said it out loud, actually admitted that somewhere in the past month she learned how to trust another person again, and from the way Riot’s expression shifts to something awed and grateful, he knows how significant the admission is.
“Say that again,” he requests, his hands framing her face.
“I trust you,” Nadia repeats, and watches his eyes go suspiciously bright. “I trust you to protect me, to plan this properly, to get me through this alive. I trust you, Riot. Completely.”
He kisses her like she just gave him the world, and when they end up having sex against the cabin wall with the afternoon sun streaming through the trees and Marcus probably watching on the security feed, Nadia thinks: *This is what loving someone feels like when you’re not running from it.*
It feels like coming home.
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