Dawn had not yet broken, and the threat of death had not yet been extinguished.
Caleb Baker closed his eyes for a moment, the birthmark on his double eyelids coming into view. His lips were pale, his breathing was still unsteady. His physical condition was still not good. Had he not been supported by the comforting belief in Yvonne Finley, he would have no way or opportunity to have run this far.
A person's limit and potential only become evident when pushed to the edge of despair.
He suppressed the tearing pain in his chest, tried to breathe evenly, and with a slender hand that betrayed a hint of bone, lightly caressed her nape. "I'm okay," he said.
Inside, he was struggling to control a tumult of emotions.
He was angry. And scared.
Scared that Yvonne Finley's selfless actions for his sake would cause her harm, threaten her life, and that she could become a victim under the villainous gun.
But he knew.
She did it all for him.
