She had no idea. “I lost someone.” The words came out before he could stop them. “A long time ago.”
He didn’t elaborate. Couldn’t. Every word was a minefield.
“I get it—this is why you’re here. The story that turned you into…” She gestured at him. “Wolf.”
They stood there in the cool Montana air, two people connected by grief they couldn’t share. Survivors of violence that had shaped everything they’d become.
Claire’s voice was barely a whisper. “Her name was Lily.”
The name hit him like a fist to the chest. He nodded. Didn’t trust his voice.
After a moment, she turned back for the door. “I think I’ll skip lunch.”
“Yeah.”
He watched her walk away, this woman who’d been a girl at his sister’s grave. Who’d become an FBI agent to hunt the kind of monster who’d killed Lily. Who had no idea Bobby Anderson was standing right here, watching her like he could keep her safe through sheer force of will.
I’m here, Lil. I’m protecting her like I should have protected you.
The restof the day passed in controlled chaos. Claire worked with Vivi on the Trident methodology, diving deep into behavioral markers and neurological patterns. Garrett coordinated with the FBI, including SAC Reeves, on security updates and case developments. He reviewed the compound’s defensive positions, reviewed files on additional operators for future assignments, and tried not to think about Claire three rooms away.
Failed on that last count.
Dinner was in the compound mess. Claire and Vivi sat at one table, Garrett and his team at another. All three of his teammates were sharp, had good ideas, and were as focused as he was on keeping the compound and Claire safe.
After dinner, Garrett escorted Claire to her room.
“I know you think I’m difficult,” she said as they reached her door.
“I think you’re scared and trying not to show it.”
She stiffened. “I’m not?—”
“You should be.” He softened his voice. “He’s killed three women. You’re next on his list. Being scared doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart.”
Claire studied him and nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate what you’re doing, although we’re going to discuss changing my call sign tomorrow.”
There was that small smile again. He should walk away. Maintain distance. But her eyes held him there.
Lynx showed up for guard duty.
Garrett cleared his throat. “Get some rest, Claire.”
“Goodnight, Wolf.”
He nodded and walked away before he said something he couldn’t take back.
His quarters were Spartan. Bed, desk, bathroom. He’d unpacked his go-bag but hadn’t bothered to make the space personal. Wasn’t planning to stay long-term. Just until Claire was safe.
Then what? Back to drinking in The Last Stand? Back to hiding?
He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
I saw her. I talked to her. She doesn’t know who I am.
Relief and grief warred in his chest.
His secure phone buzzed. FBI. “Wolf,” he answered.
