Chapter 155: 155

Winter carried Leo close to his chest as he and Sam made their way through the base, the dim lighting doing little to ease the tight coil of anxiety in his stomach. The baby was tucked securely in his arms, his tiny head resting against Winter’s shoulder, breathing softly.

Winter wasn’t about to leave him alone—not when there could be people looking to take them away from him.

His legs moved fast, each step fueled by the storm of thoughts whirling in his head. Why the fuck was all of this happening now? Did it have something to do with the stunt they pulled?

No, it was too fast.

Surely they wouldn’t...

The hospital was ahead, just past a set of blocks, but the closer they got, the harder his chest squeezed.

"Winter, slow down," Sam muttered beside him, but Winter barely acknowledged him.

His steps were even, purposeful, but Sam could see it—the way his grip on the child tightened ever so slightly, the way his breathing deepened like he was bracing himself.

They turned a corner, and suddenly, someone was blocking their way.

"Winter?"

The voice stopped him in his tracks, but only for a fraction of a second.

Ima.

He turned, barely slowing, barely sparing her a glance.

He registered her short, braided hair, the way her face lit up at the sight of him—but he couldn’t stop.

"Winter!" Ima grabbed his sleeve, forcing him to look at her. Her dark eyes searched his, concerned, hopeful. "Where the hell have you been? We—"

"Not now," he cut her off, his voice cool, clipped. His focus was elsewhere, his mind already down the hall, already in that room with Zara. "I’ll find you later."

"Winter! Wait, I—"

"Not now, Ima," he said, brushing past her.

Her expression fell, confusion flickering across her face. She reached for his sleeve, but he was already gone.

Ima stood frozen for a second, blinking after him, but Winter didn’t stop to see her expression.

Sam shot Ima an apologetic glance before jogging after him.

He barely heard Sam sigh beside him.

Winter kept walking.

Winter’s grip on Leo tightened. He should care. He should at least say something more—but his mind was elsewhere, trapped in the moment Sam had stepped into his room just minutes ago.

Flashback

"There’s a problem."

Winter stiffened. He had barely gotten back from a tense moment at the barracks, just barely calmed down at seeing Leo safe.

Was it—was it about Zara?

"What?"

Sam hesitated. Just for a second—but it was enough for dread to seep into Winter’s bones.

"It’s Zara," Sam finally said. "She collapsed in the lab."

Everything inside Winter screeched to a halt.

Collapsed?

His breathing hitched. He was already moving, reaching for his gear, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Where is she?!"

"She’s at the hospital, but—"

Winter yanked on his rifle strap, ready to storm out the door, but Sam grabbed his arm.

"Winter. Stop. Listen to me."

Winter tore his arm away, his mind buzzing, barely processing anything beyond Zara. Collapsed.

"What’s there to listen to? Where is she? What the fuck happened?"

"She was taken to quarantine," Sam said, voice level, but Winter could see the tension in his shoulders. "I pulled some strings to get in and found out he was already there."

He?

Winter froze. "Who?"

Sam’s expression darkened. "Adrian Locke. Some official with bright green eyes."

The name sent ice through Winter’s veins. That had been enough to send Winter into a fresh wave of fury. The green-eyed bastard had wormed his way in? Of course, he had. He knew about Zara. And if he knew, others did too.

That fucking bastard, how dare he go near Zara?

What did he do to her?

His stomach twisted. His body moved on instinct. He grabbed Sam by the front of his jacket. "Where the fuck is she now? Why isn’t she with you?"

Sam had hesitated. "That’s why I came to get you. The medics don’t want to release her. It got me thinking about what we talked about before... about the base experimenting on people."

Winter’s mind snapped to sharp clarity. If they were planning something, if they thought they could just make Zara disappear—

"I wasn’t gonna wait," Sam finished. "I came to get you. If they see she has people who’ll raise hell over her disappearance, they might back off."

Winter hadn’t needed to hear anything else.

Back to the present...

The hospital was in sight.

Winter’s feet barely touched the ground as he moved, his paranoia sharpening with every step. Leo stirred in his arms, sensing his tension.

They entered the hospital, and Sam led the way.

Both men rushed through the halls, past wide-eyed medics and murmuring patients.

Winter’s heart thudded against his chest as he made his way to her. Fuck, if something happened to her, if those bastards did something to hurt her...

Finally, they reached the room.

A guard blocked the entrance.

"You can’t go in there," the man said.

Winter didn’t even pause. He stepped up, his voice low, cold. "Move."

The guard stiffened. "Sir, I—"

Winter tilted his head. A sharp, assessing look. "Do you want to keep your teeth in your face?"

The guard paled. He stepped aside.

Winter didn’t wait. He pushed through the door—

And stopped dead.

Zara lay unconscious on the hospital bed, but—

People were trying to move her.

Winter was on them in an instant. "Who the fuck are you, and what do you think you’re doing?"

The medics froze. One of them stammered, "W-We’re just following orders—"

"Whose orders?" His voice was steel.

One of them swallowed, then tried to put on a brave front. "We’re doctors. This is our job. Who the hell are you?"

Without thinking, Winter snapped, "Her husband."

The words were out before he could stop them, and for a split second, the medics faltered.

"That’s right," he continued, voice cold as he took a step forward, his grip shifting on Leo, his free hand hovering over the strapped sidearm on his thigh. "So why the fuck are you trying to move an unconscious woman without her partner’s consent? And with a lookout outside?"

The medics stammered, scrambling for an answer. One tried to put on a brave face.

"Sir, I don’t think you understand, we’re just doing our job—"

Winter’s hand dropped to his sidearm.

He drew it in one smooth motion, levelling it at the man’s chest.

"Choose your next words carefully."

The room went deathly silent.

The leader’s face drained of colour. "If you kill me, you’ll be punished—solitary confinement—"

Winter’s expression didn’t change. "I don’t think you understand," he interrupted, voice eerily calm. "You’d be too dead to worry about that."

The medic swallowed hard. Then, raising his hands in surrender, he ordered his team to "Put her back," his voice shaking.

The others obeyed instantly.

The leader turned back to Winter and Sam. "You’ll be reported to the higher-ups for this." Then, without another word, he turned and left.

As the adrenaline ebbed, Winter felt his knees buckle. He collapsed into the chair beside Zara’s bed, exhaling sharply. Leo wiggled in his arms, so he carefully placed the boy onto the bed beside Zara.

"This—this is crazy," he muttered, resting his head in his hands. "This base was supposed to be a safe haven."

For a long moment, he just sat there, trying to catch his breath.

Sam shifted, as if about to say something.

A soft voice cut in first. A whisper.

"...Should’ve checked the brochure."

Winter’s head snapped up.

Zara was awake.

She was squinting at him, her expression groggy but aware.

For a second, Winter couldn’t move. Relief crashed over him in waves, nearly overwhelming.

Leo, sensing movement, scrambled toward her and buried his face in her side with a muffled, "Mommy."

Zara blinked down at him, dazed, before slowly lifting a trembling hand to stroke his hair. Her fingers barely had the strength to move, but she tried anyway, brushing through his dark curls like she was reassuring both him and herself that she was really here.

Winter exhaled, something inside him uncoiling.

Sam cleared his throat. "I’ll—uh—give you two a moment." He slipped out.

Silence.

Winter swallowed. "How long have you been awake?"

Zara let out a slow breath. "A while ago. Woke up when those guys tried to move me."

Winter barely processed that.

Because his brain had just caught up to the fact that he had called Zara his wife.

Did she hear it?

She must have.

Fuck.

His brain spiralled, but then—

A soft squeeze on his hand.

He looked down.

Zara had reached out, her fingers curling around his hand.

Winter snapped out of his thoughts.

"I’m still mad at you," she murmured.

But there was no heat in her voice.

No real anger.

Winter let out a breathless laugh. He lifted their joined hands and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of hers. "I’ll take it."

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