Time-Spanning Bad News (Part 2)
"It worked." Two words, and every drop of blood in my body turned to ice.
Nolan Kane's hand shook. "You got her? It's really Jude Morrow?"
"Bound and gagged. She's been crying, begging for her life. Funny—she orders people killed without blinking, but point a blade at her and she falls apart."
"Is she from the future? Tell me everything!"
The voice on the phone dropped ten years of waiting into our laps.
Ten years. That operative had spent an entire decade—month after month, attempting a kill that causality kept rewinding—until finally, it took. The past wouldn't let Jude Morrow die until the timeline allowed it. And when it did, every attempt that had failed retroactively made sense.
"Boss, I'm ten years ahead of you. Today's date—tell me."
"November 3rd. 12:50 PM."
"Not enough time." His voice cracked. "Ten years ago, on November 3rd—The Badlands was destroyed. Boss, you haven't paid me in ten years, but you saved me once, so I kept my word. I kept waiting for this day."
We sat frozen.
The Badlands. Destroyed. Today.
Nolan Kane leapt to his feet. "That's impossible! We have hundreds of people—a fortress—"
"I can't give you details. This event was never recorded in any intelligence, or Jude Morrow would have warned you. All I have is a dying message."
A dying message.
Nolan Kane's dying message.
"On November 3rd, ten years ago, I received a call from you. You said: 'The Badlands is destroyed.' I asked what happened—how many police, from which direction. You said: 'No police came. Only one man.' I asked who."
Silence.
"Adrian Cross."
The name hit me like a wall.
Adrian Cross. Alone. One man dismantled everything.
I thought of his face. Of my husband speaking of him with so much admiration. Of a man so driven by justice he'd stake everything—his life, his career, any chance at recognition—on a solo crusade against an entire island of killers. No backup. No glory. Just conviction.
And we'd never even known.
Nolan Kane slammed the table. "How? How does one man—"
"Calm down," Cassian Vance cut in. His voice was glacier. "Issue an emergency evacuation order. Get everyone to the docks and defend the boats. If Adrian Cross is alone, he can't possibly—"
"Wait." Nolan Kane's face shifted. "Should we evacuate everyone?"
I stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"We have the Prophet's secret now. We control our own fate from here on. Do you know what happens if we shepherd hundreds of people off this island? Chaos. Attention. More risk." He swallowed. "We abandon the Sin Hunters. Take the boat—just us. I have foreign papers. Money solves everything."
Cassian Vance's brow furrowed. "If The Badlands falls, all our Sin Hunters become fugitives. They'll talk. They'll give us up. And Maya Chen is already a wanted woman—where exactly do we sail?"
"I have investor visas. Multiple passports. A fast boat. We leave. Now." His face was steel. "Couples fly apart when disaster strikes—why should we be different?"
He wasn't wrong. A handful of people might escape. A crowd would drown.
But this was the Badlands. Our people. The ones who trusted us.
I looked at Cassian Vance. "Is that what you think too?"
He hesitated. Then: "I've prepared for this day. I always knew we'd pay eventually. Dying here, I could accept." His hand found mine. "But now there's you. I'm afraid. I'm genuinely afraid something will happen to you."
My heart seized.
He continued, quieter: "I want so many things with you. I want us to have a home. A kitchen where you cook, and I come up behind you and hold you. Road trips where you fall asleep in the passenger seat and I drive, watching you."
"I want to tuck my cold feet against you in winter."
"I want to hold an umbrella over you in summer—your face always goes so red."
Tears burned. "Abandoning everyone just to flee—that's vile. We call ourselves Sin Hunters, champions of justice, and the moment it matters, we become rats?"
"Your justice," Cassian Vance said quietly. "My world has only you. I'm not ashamed of that. I'll get you to the mainland first. Then I go back for the others."
"You're going back?"
"To settle this."
I wanted to cling to him, beg him not to go, be the weak woman in every story. But there was no time.
I hugged him—brief and fierce. "I'll wait. If we survive—I want to be with you forever."
"Then I'll come back."
"Bring Valerian and Juniper. Or I won't go."
"Done."
I ran to pack. Two photographs—my wedding portrait, my baby's picture. Nothing else mattered. The large wedding photo on the wall—I couldn't take it. Just the small one from the nightstand.
Ethan Cole. I'm sorry. I kept disgracing your name.
But I couldn't understand—it him or Adrian Cross, both willing to die for strangers. I just wanted the people I loved to be safe. Was that so wrong?
A person who can't even protect the people beside them—what right do they have to protect the world?
"Major. Come."
The dog trotted beside me. At my door, Juniper and Valerian were already waiting, backpacks on.
"Where are we going?" Valerian asked.
"No questions. Move."