Blaze just rolled his eyes, though his expression held amusement rather than judgment, indicating that he was also in the know.
Obviously a problem for another day though because Blaze nodded toward Wizard and returned to the subject at hand. “Wizard’ll put all the intel into the folder on the secure server. Get your asses to work. We need to hit the facility and kill this operation before they bring in any more prisoners.” He straightened slightly, eyes sweeping the room. “Rebel, stay put. Everyone else get out.”
The others filed out quickly, leaving King, Blaze, and me alone. I leaned back, watching King as he sat behind his desk, tension evident in every hard line of his body. Cerberus, his muscular guard dog, had been sleeping in his bed next to the desk. Proving he was a fucking puppy in the right circumstance, he lifted his head and butted Kane’s hand, then rested his head on the prez’s thigh.
“Have you noticed any other strangers hanging around lately?” King asked, absently running a palm over Cerberus’s head. His voice was calm, though a vein pulsed tightly in his jaw.
“No.” I shook my head slowly, the memory of the diner still sharp in my mind. “Nothing since the other night.”
Blaze shifted his weight slightly, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You could’ve missed something. Easy enough for them to blend in with the crowds at the orchard. Big place, lots of people.”
I shot him a hard look, my jaw tightening at the implication. “Don’t insult me. If they were there, I’d fucking know.”
Blaze shrugged, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying that he was just fucking with me, not questioning my skills. I scowled at him anyway, and he held my gaze with a deadpan expression.
King’s tone was serious again when he cut in smoothly, “No one else has noticed a tail or overly interested strangers. If you’re the only one on their radar, they might see Clara as a way to you. If you want to beef up her security, you have my approval to use whatever equipment you need. If you want warm bodies, pull as many prospects onto her detail as you think she needs. I’ll have Wizard send you the background checks on each of them so you can pick the best.”
“Appreciate it.” I gave King a firm nod of gratitude. Protecting Clara was my highest priority, and having King’s backing meant I could make damn sure she was safe.
King tilted his chin toward the door. “Go. Handle it.”
I rose, my mind already racing with plans as I left the office, determination burning hotly in my chest. Whatever was coming, I’d protect Clara at all costs. The Hounds dealt with all kinds of fucked up shit, and that was the case more often than not. I was determined that none of it any-fucking-where near her.
By the time I returned to the orchard, the sun was dipping low in the sky. I threw myself back into helping Clara and her family, keeping an eye out for anything unusual while I worked. But from Clara’s quiet, assessing looks, it was obvious that she’d noticed my heightened alertness, even though she didn’t immediately say anything.
After closing, we went back to her apartment for the night. As we stepped inside, Clara turned to me, her eyes filled with concern. “You seemed a little extra anxious today, Ronan. More protective than usual. Is everything okay?”
I hesitated for a moment, my jaw tightening as I considered how much to share. “Club business has me wound tight. Something’s coming, and I can’t shake the worry that you might get caught up in it because of me.”
Clara’s gaze softened, and she reached out, brushing her fingers along my jaw. “Is that why you argued so hard to take me back to your place? Because it’s safer?”
“Mostly,” I admitted gruffly. And her damn double bed, but I didn’t say that. “I know you gotta be here for the early event tomorrow morning, and I’m not fucking sleeping without you. So, we’ll sleep here tonight.”
She smiled sweetly, appreciation glimmering in her amber orbs. “Thank you for not trying to talk me out of staying here.”
I cupped her jaw, my thumb brushing possessively against her skin. “I’ll always protect you, baby.”
The next morning, as we sat eating breakfast in her small kitchen, I waited until the last minute to bring up the new security and braced myself for a fight. Setting my coffee down, I leveled a serious gaze at her. “I’m stationing prospects around the orchard. Increasing your protection.”
Clara opened her mouth, and I knew from the hard glint in her eyes that she was gonna pitch a fit. But then she hesitatedand studied my expression carefully. Whatever she saw made her nod slowly. “Okay.”
Her quick acceptance caught me off guard. “No argument?”
She shook her head. “If that’s what you need so that you aren’t distracted worrying about me, then I’ll grin and bear it.”
Her expression was cheeky, but her tone was dead serious.Fucking hell, I loved this woman.
She’d been so accepting and made it clear that this was her way of protecting me as well. I decided she deserved more of an explanation. “The club’s dealing with dangerous shit, and it might spill over to anyone close to us. That puts you at risk simply by association.” I pulled her closer and pressed my forehead gently against hers, my voice raw with fierce possessiveness. “I know I should walk away from you, keep you safe from all this. But I’m too fucking selfish. I can’t let you go. So I promise you this—I’ll protect you with everything I have. No matter what.”
Clara’s eyes filled with warmth, her voice soft but unwavering as she cupped my bearded face in her hands. “I trust you, Ronan. Completely.”
The raw sincerity in her words pulled me closer, and I crushed my mouth to hers, sealing that promise with everything I had.
15
REBEL
Two days later, I was hunched over my desk at the downtown office, a rough spread of schematics laid out across the polished surface in front of me. The original blueprints we’d managed to dig up were fucking worthless now, thanks to the renovations the assholes running the black site had put in place. I traced my finger along the building’s outer perimeter, my jaw tight with frustration. Piecing together the new layout was painstaking work, dependent entirely on brief glimpses through windows and scraps of conversation we’d picked up through our audio surveillance. Echo and Cross had fed me descriptions over comms, their voices low and intense as they reported back, painting a patchwork image of the interior layout.
