She rose with wounded dignity, fixing Cory with a stare that could melt steel. "You watch over her, ¿entiendes?"
Not a request. A mother's command, backed by the authority of every mother who'd ever sent a child to war.
"Yes, ma'am." Cory's response was immediate, solemn.
"Con su vida." With your life.
"Understood."
Luz held his gaze a moment longer, reading something there that seemed to satisfy her. She turned back to Izzy, cupping herface with gentle hands, then headed for the hallway, muttering prayers under her breath.
Alone with Cory in her living room, Izzy suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable. She hated it.
He already had his phone out. "I have federal connections. Witness protection can have them relocated within?—"
Her hand covered his screen. "So do I."
He looked up, eyebrow raised.
"My connections can't be traced by any agency." Let him make of that what he would. Knight Tactical's reach was long and quiet.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. Maybe even a hint of admiration. "Fair point."
"So it's handled." Exhaustion crept into her voice. When had she gotten so tired?
"What about you?"
She waved him off. "I've got this."
"No." The word was flat, final. Chief Fraser at his most immovable.
"I don't need?—"
"You need backup. Period."
"I'm not calling my team back from Alaska."
"I'm not talking about your team." He leaned forward, those ice-blue eyes intense. "I'm talking about me."
The words hung between them, unexpected and somehow inevitable.
"I'm not losing an innocent person on my watch."
Despite everything—the explosion, the terror, the exhaustion—she laughed. "You saying I'm innocent?"
"Of this sabotage." The correction came quick, but his eyes said more.
She recognized the trap even as she tested it. "You're bluffing."
He gestured toward the window. She looked, already knowing what she'd see. Red and blue lights painted the parking lot. Two patrol cars sat silent, light bars spinning lazy warnings.
"No. Way." She turned back to him. "I'm not headlining a parade."
His shrug was infuriatingly casual. "Your choice. It's me or them."
Boxed in. Outmaneuvered by a small-town police chief who probably played chess in his spare time.
"This is coercion."
