Clay chose that moment to step out, his eyes glued to her.
“Sheriff tells me I’m not welcome at the crime scene,” he said.
“No?” She looked between the two men. “Isn’t this a federal case?”
“Mr. Navarro is a witness in what happened tonight. Just like you. Anyway”—Steve stood up—“we’ll be here for at least twenty-four hours or so. Be a long night.” He glanced at the yard. “Or day. More likely. It’s gonna be a long day. You all should skedaddle.”
With a start, George turned to look out. A fresh pink light suffused the garden. She wished the air were fresh enough to go with that glow.
Steve asked, “What’s the plan, Agent Navarro?”
“Well, ATF’s gonna have to—”
“I talked to your SAC on the phone. I’ve heard all about the fed’s plan. I’m asking you about yours.”
It was when Clay swallowed and didn’t look at George that she felt the queasy weight settle in her stomach.
“What’s next, Clay?” she repeated—a whisper, just for him.
“Head back to Baltimore.”
George’s head started shaking before he’d finished the sentence, but Clay went on. “You’ve got the most to lose here, George. I can’t…I can’t keep putting you in danger like this. It’s my presence here that made this happen. It’s because of me that—”
“You’re leaving?” Her voice came out shrill and harsh.
He nodded.
“After all of this? You want to pack up and take off? Back to your…what? Undercover life? Your job?”
“My life’s in Baltimore. I need to get this as far away from you as possible. No matter what happens here, after tonight, it’ll never be safe and—”
“Fuck safe,” George spat, in a voice she’d never heard herself use. But damn it, she was tired and filthy and she’d been through a whole hell of a lot.
“George, you’re not—”
“No. No, I’m helping, because this is my problem now too. Not just yours. Don’t you see that?”
Clay’s face—his beautiful face—was hard and drawn, his brows lowered into a straight line, his jaw tight and rigid. He wanted to argue, she’d bet, but she’d argue him into the ground.
The sheriff said something, and George couldn’t even be bothered to throw a glance his way—she couldn’t pull her attention away from Clay.
“This is my house, Clay. These men attacked my house. And it’s my life.” She hesitated, and then, with a giant sigh and a fuck it of a prayer, went on. “You are mine. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you do this alone. What do you think happens when you leave? Huh? You think I just go back to what I had? To who I was? And you just go back there? To Baltimore? And whatever it is you do up there?” Another pause while she girded herself to go on. “No. No, you’re not leaving. I’m not letting you go.”
His brows lifted and then they settled, relaxed, his mouth loosened, his eyes lost a set of lines. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“I’ve got to go back. Got to testify and—”
“You think you could love me?” Lord, what was she doing? It was probably exhaustion.
But without hesitation he said, “Yes.”
“Do you want to be with me?” she went on.
“You know I do.”
“Then stay with me, Clay. Don’t give this up. Don’t give it up out of duty or a need to keep me safe. You’ve fulfilled your duties, Agent Navarro. And I understand the dangers. I’m okay with the risks. You go testify, do what you need to do to make things right, but come back to me. I won’t break if you stay.” With a hiccup of emotion, she went on. “But I might if you leave.”
