A Southern businessman. Owns his own private jet service with ties to just about every big-money industry in the country. Wouldn’t be a stretch to think he needs occasional security assistance. Or that Lone Star steps in.
“Justin Lowell,” I say out loud, curiosity and guilt fighting for dominance.
I shouldn’t be doing this, researching an asset’s associates. But I keep going anyway.
Mia’s face flashes in my mind—the way she looked at me when she confessed I’m the only person she trusts. It stoked the one need I can’t deny—to protect her at all costs.
Which means the one thing I can’t admit out loud.
She’s no longer an asset.
She’s someone I would cross lines for.
And if it comes to it, I will choose her.
That terrifies me.
Because it changes everything. Just like news of her guardianship. Not sure I’m ready for those stakes.
But I am certain I can’t turn them down.
Mia needs faith in humanity again—peace, safety, something real. I can’t be the one who denies her that. Though it could cost me everything.
I take another swig of coffee. A little too hot, burning on the way down. Not as sizzling as that sliver of touch when she leaned back against me, and we talked about stuff that could get me fired.
“Can’t let that happen, Holt. Can’t let Grayson down.” I speak the words into silence, appraising the minimally furnished compound bedroom.
Ex-military, ex-rodeo.
I’ve always lived by pain and blood … and the ethic that comes with them.
But with Mia, nothing’s that simple. And that’s why I keep typing, and I keep researching until it’s time to report for our morning briefing.
I stareat the stack of papers on Grayson’s desk, the clock ticking in the background. Counting down what we’re almost out of—time.
“A cease-and-desist. Crowe wants her back, and he’s no longer playing.”
“What doesthatmean?” Jack asks in low tones next to me.
“He’s threatening to have her declared noncompliant … demanding an institutional review.”
I clench my jaw, shoulders tightening.
“He’s talking medications, involuntary return … it’s pretty much all on the table at this point.”
Jack crosses his arms, sits back, and shakes his head.
“How much time?” I ask.
“Forty-eight hours, though the lawyers think we can maybe buy her a week.”
And then, she’ll disappear again. Maybe this time, forever.
I can’t let that happen.
“Anything we can do about it?” I cough, correcting myself quickly. “I mean, her parents can do?”
Grayson shifts uneasily. “Maybe. If she’d open up to someone. Trust them with what’s really going on.”
