Because tonight, before my new asset stepped outside of that building, she knew her stalker would come for her.
Tonight, she expected to die.
The rules are back in place by the time we pull up at Lone Star Security. Calhoun, the business owner, waits outside the doors of The Ranch. Adora still hasn’t said a word. From what I've read of her file—and that’s everything— I expect she’ll remain silent. Even as Drake stitches me back together with the first aid kit I stowed in the car as ajust in casemeasure before her show, Adora simply absorbs the fallout happening around her.
I don’t waste words asking if she’s okay, or if she’s hurt. The way she looks at me tells me that she is, for now. Anything greater than immediate triage can wait.
“Can you move it?” Drake tests the rotation of my shoulder in both directions, satisfied when I don’t let out a sound. “Looks like it’s a graze. A deep one, took a chunk of flesh with it. But you’re clear.”
“I’m fine." I ball the remainder of my shirt and reach for the door handle. The full extent of the pain has ‘t kicked in yet. “Good thing I've got at least one ambidextrous gene from my father’s side.”
“Handy. You’ll need it.” Drake grips my left, uninjured shoulder in warning. “Calhoun will have words.”
“He should.” If he didn’t, I’d be worried for the girl in front of me. My blood stains her dress as she lowers the jacket that I threw across her the moment the car took off. I study her lifted chin, keeping my features relaxed. If I try to muscle my way in with this asset, I’ll never get the answers I seek from her, and I doubt that any piece of paper will give me sufficient story when he can tell me the who and why, even if she doesn’t realize that she knows that right now.
But that’s my job. Not just taking bullets for someone else. A plastic dummy can do that, and I'm pretty sure we’ve proven in the last hours that more than synthetic blood runs through my veins.
At no point has Adora fainted or screamed or gone into shock. She’s made of tougher stuff, or she’s been through trauma before. My bet is on the latter option. Which means that I need to have more than one chat with Calhoun. Preferably without her present. But right now, that’s not an option. She’s not leaving my sight.
“Sir.” I straighten as I emerge from the car after Drake, and offer my uninjured arm.
“Hendrick,” Drake utters my name like it’s a curse.
Too late, I retract my offering, but Adora is already rising past me. My jacket lands neatly in the crook of my elbow as she glides past me and through the open doors of The Ranch. Valor Springs is a small town, though we won’t be stopping here for too long.
Just…passing through until we reach our destination.
Calhoun raises both eyebrows and follows Adora inside.
“I’d say you’re fucked, but that would be kind. I’ll wait out here, see if you come back in shreds.” Drake slides his hands into his pockets.
“You just want the Texas ladies to see you shirtless.”
“Aren’t you showing off your new scar?” His easy banter is one of the reasons I have no problem working with the ex-soldier.
I shake his hand, keeping the fresh wave of pain and nausea off my face. Drake eyes me carefully.
“Take something for it.”
“Nothing that dulls the edge.” I follow Calhoun inside the building, seeking his office, and find Adora studying her reflection in a wide mirror set across one side of the hall opposite. Refusing to let her out of my sight, I set myself up in the doorway to respect both her and Calhoun without disgracing myself in her presence again. “I’m sorry for our…tardiness, sir.” I address Calhoun while still watching her.
I was wrong. She’s not looking at herself like I first thought, though the woman reflected in the pristine surface isn't the same one who existed in the building she performed in a few hours ago. She’s studying the ornate edges of the frame, decorated with floral carvings.
“I understand. The driver put in a call the moment the catastrophe happened.”
I nod, wiping my surprise off my face.Shit. I missed that. Probably around the time Drake was digging in my flesh for a bullet that hadn’t stuck inside me. We were all damned lucky that it hadn’t grazed me and buried itself in her.
“It won’t happen again.” The next shot will be through the asshole who decided to threaten her.
Calhoun considers me in silence for a long moment. “Are you fit for duty?”
Adora raises her gaze to meet my eyes in the mirror. It isn’t my new boss who I reassure when I speak.
“Yes.”
Grayson Calhoun folds his arms across his chest and stares at the mess we’ve made of the job that wasn’t supposed to have started until half an hour after we arrived. I’ve filled in forms on both my behalf and hers. The moment that Adora picked up the pen Calhoun handed her—careful not to contact her pale skin—was the moment I noticed the finest tremor in her fingers.
I broke her rules again, taking the pen back and filling in her details I’ve committed to memory in silence. Calhoun respected that and we completed his process in what I hope is record time.
