Chapter 69

Chapter 69
Seamus sat across from Mika at the small wooden table, the dim glow of the bunker’s light barely casting shadows between them. His chest felt tight, heavier than it had all night. He had made the preparations. He had done everything he could to ensure her survival if the worst happened. But there was one last thing he had to do.
He needed her to understand.
“Mika,” he started, voice low but firm. “I need to tell you something.”
She didn’t look up immediately, her fingers drumming idly against the table as if she was already irritated by what she knew was coming. When she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, there was no hesitation in her expression, just quiet exhaustion.
“I’ve set up everything,” he continued, ignoring the way her jaw tensed. “If I don’t make it, you have the means to get out. You can disappear. You won’t have to fight anymore.”
Mika let out a slow, measured breath, her lips pressing together. “What are you saying, Seamus?”
He leaned forward, hands clasped together on the table. “There’s enough money in an offshore account. False identities. Safe houses. Weapons caches. Everything you need to start over.”
A muscle in her jaw ticked. “You think I give a damn about any of that?”
He exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I think you need to be realistic. If something happens to me—”
“No.”
The word came hard, final. Mika pushed back from the table, standing abruptly, her chair scraping against the concrete floor. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing quickening as she stared at him. "We’re not having this conversation."
Seamus’s grip tightened against the wood, his knuckles white. “Mika—”
“No.” Her voice trembled, but it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage—a deep, simmering fury that burned hotter than anything she had ever felt. She turned on him fully, her eyes wild, her hands shaking at her sides. "You don’t get to decide what happens to me. You don’t get to make plans for me like I’m just supposed to accept losing you and move on."
“This isn’t about moving on,” he snapped. He stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He was in front of her in two steps, towering over her, his presence imposing, his breath heavy. "It’s about you surviving."
Mika let out a bitter laugh, tilting her chin up defiantly. "You think I care about surviving?" Her voice broke, raw and unfiltered. "I’ve been walking this earth alone for as long as I can remember. No family. No real connections. Just existing. And then I found you."
Seamus swallowed, his throat tight, his jaw locked. Fuck.
Mika shook her head, her breathing erratic. "And now you think I’m supposed to just—what? Take the money and run? Pretend you never mattered? That you weren’t the only thing keeping me together?" Her fists clenched, her body trembling. "There is no world without you, Seamus. There never was."
Seamus’s chest rose and fell with deep, measured breaths, but his resolve was cracking. Mika could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the way his hands twitched at his sides.
She stepped closer, pressing against him, her hands grabbing the front of his shirt, yanking him forward. “You don’t get to leave me,” she hissed, her fingers twisting into the fabric, her nails biting into his skin beneath. "Do you understand me?"
Seamus didn’t move, didn’t push her away. His breathing was sharp, ragged, his hands flexing, but he didn’t reach for her. He just let her take him apart.
She shoved him, her palms flat against his chest, her voice rising, desperate. "You don't get to tell me to run while you throw yourself into the fire! You don’t get to make this decision for me!"
Seamus snapped.
His hands shot up, grabbing her wrists, pinning them against his chest. His fingers dug in, not to hurt, but to hold her in place, to keep her from breaking apart. His forehead dropped against hers, his breath a sharp exhale, his entire body coiled like a live wire.
“I need you to live,” he growled, his voice rough, edged with desperation.
“I need you to live,” she fired back, her voice breaking. "Because if you go down, I go down with you."
Seamus let out a sharp breath, his grip tightening, his jaw clenched so hard it ached.
Mika wasn’t just telling him how she felt. She was making a vow.
His forehead pressed harder against hers, his breath mingling with hers, his body shaking from the force of everything he couldn’t say.
Mika lifted her wrists, breaking his grip, and instead, she cupped his face. Her thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, her touch rough but reverent.
“So don’t you dare ask me to run.” Her voice was a whisper now, but it cut deeper than any scream. “Because if this is the end, we go down together.”