Chapter 13
Shrapnel sliced through the air, cutting into the man’s back with sickening thuds. He didn’t flinch, just tightened his grip around Kimberly and let out a single pained grunt. “It’s not safe here,” he muttered against her hair. “Come with me.”
Before she could protest, he pulled her up and half-dragged her back toward the medical compound, his arm locked firmly around her waist. Only when they reached the safety of her tent did Kimberly realize the extent of his injuries. Blood soaked through his shirt, revealing multiple lacerations deep enough to expose bone.
“Sit down,” she ordered, professional instincts taking over. “Let me treat those wounds.” The man didn’t resist as she guided him onto a folding chair. With practiced efficiency, Kimberly cut away his shredded shirt. Using sterilized forceps, she carefully extracted embedded metal fragments from his flesh, her concentration absolute despite the ongoing explosions outside.
As she finished bandaging his torso, she finally noticed the strange black mask covering the upper half of his face. “Your face…” she began. “Burns,” he replied tersely. “Better for everyone if I keep it covered.” Kimberly pressed her lips together, understanding the sensitivity of such injuries.
Before she could thank him for saving her life, Olivia burst into the tent, grabbing Kimberly’s arm and pulling her aside. “Did you see his face?” she whispered excitedly. “What?” “The communications guy! The hot one I told you about. Did you see what he looks like under that mask?”
Kimberly shook her head. “He said he has burn injuries. He wears it to avoid frightening people.” Olivia’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with disappointment. “Seriously? I thought the mask was some sexy, mysterious thing. So he’s actually just…damaged goods?”
“Olivia!” Kimberly admonished sharply. “He could have been injured in the conflict. Show some respect.” Olivia had the decency to look embarrassed before slipping out of the tent.
Three days later, a tentative ceasefire brought temporary calm to the region. The medical team remained to provide follow-up care for those already wounded rather than immediately relocating to the next hot zone. During this relative calm, Kimberly became increasingly aware of the masked communications specialist who seemed to materialize wherever she was assigned.
She didn’t mind his presence; after all, he’d saved her life. But as days passed, something about him triggered an unsettling sense of familiarity. His mannerisms, the cadence of his speech, even his height and build reminded her of someone she’d tried desperately to forget.
Kimberly told herself she was losing her mind. Jayden was back in Boston, probably already married to Agatha by now. There was no possible way he could be here, in this war-torn corner of Eastern Europe. And even if by some miracle he had discovered where Breaking Dawn operated, why would he bother looking for her?
From across the camp, Jayden watched her moving among patients, his hands tightening into fists. He’d crossed continents and leveraged every contact he had to find her. When he’d first spotted her—thin, hair shorter than before, but unmistakably Kimberly—joy had surged through him with such intensity it frightened him. But he’d restrained himself from revealing his identity, choosing instead to don a mask and approach her as a stranger. He couldn’t risk triggering her trauma, couldn’t bear to see fear in her eyes if she recognized him.
Now, however, she seemed to be actively avoiding him. Had she somehow seen through his disguise? Before he could consider his next move, reality intervened with brutal efficiency. That night, the communications center took a direct hit from artillery fire.
Despite his cover as a specialist—a role he wasn’t actually qualified for—Jayden volunteered for the repair team heading to the damaged facilities, much to the horror of the fixer who had arranged his placement. “Mr. Charlemet, the front line is extremely dangerous,” the man hissed. “Your presence here is supposed to be purely observational. There’s no need to risk your life!”
Jayden silenced him with a glacial stare. “Who said I was here to observe?” He hadn’t come looking for Kimberly just to apologize and walk away. He’d come prepared to pay whatever price was necessary—even if that meant his life. The fixer couldn’t dissuade him.
Fearing the worst, the man rushed to find Kimberly, intent on revealing Jayden’s true identity before it was too late. But before he could reach her, devastating news spread through the camp: the communications team had suffered heavy casualties, with three members unaccounted for—including the masked specialist.