Chapter 13

chapter

thirteen

The horror on her face was like a punch to his gut, a visceral reminder of the devastation he had been part of, not just as an engineer but as a soldier who had believed in the mission. He had anticipated fear, maybe even revulsion, but the raw incredulity on Rhiannon's face stung deeper than he imagined.

Rhiannon took a step back, her breath catching as she tried to process the magnitude of his confession. "You mean you could—" She faltered, her voice dropping to a whisper filled with disbelief. "You could destroy entire cities?"

Pierce held up his hands, reminding her to use ASL.

She bit her lip and glanced around, then switched to sign language. "Why would you create such a thing?"

A question he had asked himself over and over again throughout the last decade. And the only answer he'd ever been able to come up with is that he'd been naive, blinded by innovation and the challenge.

He took a deep breath. "I was young, cocky, and ambitious, eager to prove myself. They sold it to us as a tool for strategic military operations, a way to destabilize enemy infrastructure without the massive loss of life that bombing causes. They said it would save lives in the long run. That it was the future of warfare. And I bought into it, hook, line, and sinker." A sour taste coated his tongue. He'd never thought of himself as a stupid man. He'd always been top of his class, good at everything he put his mind to, but he'd gotten sucked up into the hype. The immense power they'd wielded had clouded his judgment. "I was so focused on the science, on pushing the boundaries of what was possible, that I didn't stop to consider the ramifications. The potential for abuse. We lost control. Too much ambition, too little oversight, and I started to realize the weapon's true destructive potential, the indiscriminate nature of it. By the time I got my head out of my ass…"

"It had already backfired," she signed slowly when he didn't finish, her fingers trembling as they formed the words.

"Yes. The last mission I was part of was supposed to be clean and precise. We were testing Tectra-X in a remote area of Turkey, far from civilian populations. But something went wrong. The device malfunctioned and triggered a massive quake instead of the controlled seismic event we were aiming for. It devastated an entire region and killed thousands—and we had no way to stop it. That was when I realized this wasn't just a weapon. It's a monster."

His throat felt on fire, and he swallowed to ease the burn. For once, he couldn't read her expression, and anxiety twisted in his gut. He felt exposed, raw, like a wound laid bare for inspection.

A taut silence stretched between them.

Finally, she took a step back, her brows knitting together in an expression of hurt and disbelief. "Why didn't you stop it?" she asked out loud, forgetting to sign.

His chest tightened at her words. They felt like an accusation, but he couldn't blame her. He'd wrestled with the same question every single day of his life since that fateful moment. "I tried. I told them we needed to pull the plug on the project, and they ignored me, so I was going to blow the whistle. I was going to throw away my career to stop it…" He paused and touched the scars on his neck. "But they stopped me first. They took me off the project, sent me to Iraq, and tried to blow me up with a roadside bomb. I should've died. When I survived and realized what happened… I was terrified they'd come for me again. I faked my death, changed my name. It was the only way I could live any sort of a normal life."

Rhiannon's green-gold eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface. "Wait. So your name's not really Pierce?"

He hesitated. He hadn't spoken his real name in years and had never signed it.

"Don't lie to me," she said sharply.

"Jameson Pierce ." It had been his name for the first thirty-two years of his life, but now it felt foreign. Just a ghost of the man he used to be. "That's my birth name, but I've buried that part of my life. It's not who I am anymore. I'm Pierce St. James now."

When he'd first adopted the alias, he'd hated it. It hadn't been his idea, but the man who created his new ID told him it was best to keep the alias as close to his real name as possible. Still, having the word "saint" in it seemed like a cruel joke. He wasn't a fucking saint, but when the opportunity came up to change his name again, he'd decided to keep it as a reminder to do better, be better than his past self.

No, he wasn't a saint.

But he could at least aspire to be one.

Shame pressed heavily against his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. Each breath was a chore as he searched her gaze, desperate for understanding but fearing judgment.

Rhiannon shook her head slowly, disbelief etched across her features. "You built something that could destroy lives… and then you just poofed out of existence? Did you really think living in hiding would make it all go away? That you could just erase the past?"

"I thought—" He stopped mid-gesture, forcing himself to slow down as frustration boiled in his chest. "I wasn't thinking, okay? I was terrified. I was running for my life. If I could make the decision again, I would've stayed and gone public and destroyed the project, no matter the personal cost. But I can't go back."

"So, how does Gareth fit into all this?"

He lifted a shoulder and shook his head. "I honestly don't know. He knew about the project and the weapon, and he had those maps of my apartment and Redwood Coast Rescue, but he claims he's not my enemy. He wants to help."

"Do you believe him?"

"Maybe."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Her voice cracked like glass under strain, and the vulnerability in her expression cut deeper than any weapon he'd ever wielded.

"Because I can't keep lying. Not to you," he signed fiercely, his fingers trembling with urgency. "You deserve to know who I really am—who I was and what I'm capable of."

Rhiannon's breath hitched. She paced away a few steps before circling back. Raszta, who had been guarding Michael through the whole aftershock, noticed her discomfort and padded over to butt his head against the back of her leg. She smiled down at him and knelt to fix his lopsided ponytail before giving him an ear scratch.

The warm affection she had for his dog sent stabs of pain through Pierce's heart. She'd never look at him with any kind of warmth again, would she?

"I get it," she murmured after several seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity. "You were trying to protect yourself and everyone around you—Raszta, your friends, my brother, me." She gave Raszta one last scratch and then stood. When she faced him, her gaze was fierce. "But you should've told someone sooner. If not me or Rylan, then one of your other friends."

Pierce exhaled slowly. "I didn't want to put you at risk. I didn't want to put anyone at risk. The more you know, the more danger you're in. I've only stayed silent to protect you."

"But we're already in danger, and it sounds like your past is the reason. The earthquake wasn't natural, was it?"

He exhaled. It was what he'd feared since the ground first started shaking, but he'd hoped… prayed… it was just a regular natural disaster. They were in California, after all. It wasn't like quakes here were unheard of. But now he realized how stupidly optimistic that line of thinking had been.

But he'd known. Deep down, he'd known Tectra-X had fallen into the wrong hands. His first clue was when he and Cal Holden had been captured by that cult a few weeks back, and the leader kept demanding to know where "the device" was.

It was why he'd tried to run again.

But Rhiannon was right. Running hadn't solved any of his problems in the past, and it wasn't going to fix things now. He had to face this.

"I think it was stolen," he admitted finally, "and used to trigger the quake. And I think the people who stole it are after me because they're either afraid I can stop them or they need me to help them use it. As bad as this quake was, we've seen only a fraction of what Tectra-X is capable of."

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Who do you think used it?"

"Worst-case scenario, a doomsday cult."

She blinked at him like she couldn't comprehend his scenes. "Seriously?"

" Yeah, seriously. They're called Hope's Embrace. The leader and most of the main cult members are dead from a mass suicide, but it's possible some stayed alive to set off the weapon. They believed an apocalyptic event would wipe the earth clean, and they'd be brought back to repopulate it."

"I…" She shook her head and shoved her hands into her hair. "That's crazy."

He nodded once in agreement. "It is, but I learned from firsthand experience not to underestimate them."

"If that's the worst-case scenario, I don't know if I want to know what the best-case scenario is."

"It's still pretty bad— the military. They still don't want me spilling their secrets, so as long as I'm alive, I'm dangerous to them."

"Yeah, that's pretty bad. Are there any scenarios that aren't worst-case?"

"Not really, but if it makes you feel any better, I don't think the military is involved in this because they wouldn't have activated the weapon. Too messy for them."

She gave him a dry look. "Funnily enough, that doesn't make me feel better."

He winced. "Yeah, sorry. But if it's not the cult, it's more likely a mercenary group got their hands on it and accidentally set it off. It's essentially a one-time-use device. Before I left the project, it was one of the problems we were trying to address. My guess is if they set it off, they now need me to fix it so they can sell it to the highest bidder."

Her eyes rounded. "The mercenary team is Halston, isn't it?" Then her cheeks flushed. "Sorry, I kind of read Gareth's lips while you were talking the other day."

Despite everything, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Of course she had. He should've expected it. Rhiannon was nothing if not persistent.

"Yeah, Halston," he confirmed, his smile fading. "They've been on the fringes of this for a while. They work security for one of the labs involved in the project. They're not exactly known for playing nice when it comes to technology that can disrupt the balance of power."

Rhiannon's expression hardened, and her brow knitted in thought. "Okay, so that I'm one hundred percent clear. We're dealing with either a doomsday cult—" She broke off and laughed lightly in disbelief. "I can't believe I said that with a straight face. But it's either them or a group of deadly mercenaries who don't play by any rules. And they'll both do anything to get their hands on you—whether it's to use your expertise or eliminate a loose end."

He nodded. "That sums it up."

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Is there anything else I should know?"

Before he could respond, a sharp voice interrupted them.

"I knew it!"

They both turned to see Lori standing a few feet away, her face pale and eyes wide with shock and fury.

Fuck.

"Alan!" she called over her shoulder. "You were right. They've been lying all along."

Alan crossed to stand beside his wife. "What did they say?"

She pointed a shaking finger. "Pierce—they're saying he's the one responsible for the earthquake. He built some kind of weapon, and now people are after him for it."

"I knew you were hiding something," Alan said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "And now everyone else is going to know the truth, too."

Pierce felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. The last thing he needed was for the entire group to turn against him, especially when there was still so much danger looming. Dean had started sowing seeds of doubt, and now, armed with Lori's half-understood revelation, Alan was nurturing them.

It wouldn't take much for him to fracture the group completely.

He shot a glance at Rhiannon, who was pale but composed, her mind clearly racing through possible solutions.

Alan turned toward the others who had begun to gather around the commotion. "Did you hear that? Pierce is responsible for the quake! He built a weapon that caused it! Dean's dead because of him. How many more of us are we going to let him kill before we get out of here?"

The panic was already starting to spread among the survivors, their anxious murmurs growing louder.

Pierce tensed, ready to intervene, but Rhiannon stepped forward first, her expression a mix of determination and outrage. "Alan, this isn't black and white. Yes, Pierce was part of something when he was in the military, but he's not the monster you think?—"

Alan sneered. "You're still defending him? After everything?"

"I'm not defending what happened in the past," she snapped. "But blaming Pierce for the earthquake without understanding the facts won't help anyone. He didn't cause it. The weapon he worked on was stolen, and others are after him because he's the only one who knows how to stop it."

Lori's face twisted with disbelief. "And you expect us to believe that? That he's the hero now? After all these lies?"

A ripple of uncertainty ran through the group, and Pierce could see the growing mistrust in their eyes. Alan was feeding on their fear, manipulating it, and there was little he could do to stop it without making things worse.

He lifted his hands and signed, his movements sharp and deliberate. "I didn't cause the quake. I've been trying to prevent more destruction. That's why I've kept quiet. It was to protect all of you."

Rhiannon translated his signs as he spoke, her voice steady even though he could see the worry blazing in her eyes.

Alan barked out a laugh. "Protect us? You let Dean die! You're protecting yourself, not us."

"Enough!" Rhiannon shouted, her voice cutting through the rising noise. "You don't understand what's really going on here. Pierce was involved in something dangerous, yes, but right now, we are the ones in danger. Turning on each other won't get us out of here."

Alan stepped forward, pointing a finger at her. "You've been in on this from the start. Of course, you're going to defend him—you've been cozying up to him since day one."

Rhiannon flinched, her face flushing with anger. "This isn't about me and Pierce. It's about keeping all of us alive."

But Alan wasn't listening anymore. He turned back to the crowd, his voice carrying through the small, claustrophobic space. "If we follow him, we're all going to end up dead like Dean. We can't trust him. We can't trust any of them."

Pierce's hands itched with the urge to defend himself, to tell them everything. But would it even matter? The group's fear was palpable, and Alan was using it to stir them up into a frenzy. He could feel the noose tightening around him, the isolation creeping in. They were on the verge of turning against him, and he wasn't sure how to stop it.

But then Rhiannon stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the group, her voice calm and measured. "Listen to me. We are trapped in here with limited supplies, no rescue, and the possibility of more aftershocks. If we start fighting each other now, it's over. Pierce might have made mistakes, but we need each other to survive this."

The group hesitated, uncertainty flickering across their faces.

"I know you're scared," she continued, her voice softening. "But we can't let fear control us. We have to stay focused on what matters—getting out of here alive. That means sticking together, trusting each other."

For a moment, Pierce thought it might work. He could see the doubt in Alan's eyes, the hesitation in Lori's stance. But just as it seemed like Rhiannon was getting through to them, Alan shook his head, his voice rising in a final, defiant shout.

"No. I'm not risking my family's lives for this. We're done listening to you, and we're done trusting him. We'll find our own way out."

With that, he turned and stalked away, Lori and their sons following close behind. Several others exchanged uneasy glances, then slowly began to drift after Alan, leaving Pierce and Rhiannon standing alone in the center of the room.

The tension in the air was thick, and Pierce felt its weight settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew that the group's fracture was only going to get worse from here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Rhiannon turned to him, her expression a mixture of sadness and determination. "We need a plan," she said quietly.

Pierce nodded, his mind already working through the possibilities. The rift between them and the others had deepened, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He had to protect Rhiannon, no matter what.

And if that meant taking drastic measures, so be it.