The SUV tore down the dark road, trees blurring past the windows.
Ziva pressed her forehead against the cold glass, trying to breathe. Trying not to think about the gunshot. The silence that followed.
He saved me. Again. And I let him.
Her hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists, nails biting into her palms.
What if he was dead? What if the last thing she'd ever said to him was "I don't know if I can love you back"?
What if she never got the chance to tell him she'd been wrong?
"Where are we going?" Her voice came out hoarse.
Marcus didn't take his eyes off the road. "Safe house. Two hours north."
"We can't leave him."
"We're not." Marcus glanced at the rear-view mirror. "I'm tracking his phone. Once we're clear, we regroup and extract him."
"What if there's no time?"
M
