Page 93 of Unexpected Complication

“She was an unexpected complication, but I don’t regret her.”

“I’m sure you don’t. She’s quite something. She was so anxious to help you—to do anything she could to make sure you were safe and your assignment was completed. She didn’t think twice about coming with me and being a pawn.”

“She wouldn’t. She never thinks about what could happen to her,” I said disapprovingly.

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to her, Cian. It wasn’t part of my directive, but I had already decided Orson was dying that day. I was tired of his evil, and regardless of what else happened, it was time.”

A shiver went through my body as I remembered seeing Orson behind her, holding a knife to her throat.

“It came close,” I mumbled.

“I was monitoring it. I had to make sure I hit him, not her—and I was trying to buy Sean some time. I figured he’d taken out Larry and would have called in your backup. Mine was slow in coming. I didn’t have the reserves you did—I was in too deep.”

“Part of me, the largest part, wishes she’d never gone through that. But I am grateful it’s over. Once she knew what was happening, I’m not surprised she insisted on being part of it.”

“She did, once she calmed down.” He shook his head and sighed. “I frightened her when she opened the door, and she tried to get away—she was expecting your man, not me. When she fell and hit her face, I tried to help her…” He grimaced as if in pain.

“What happened?”

“She kicked me in the balls and cursed at me, threatening many things, among them assuring my inability to father children in the future.” He chuckled. “Quite the spitfire, your sidekick.”

“She is that.”

“Anyway, I calmed her down and made sure she understood I was a good guy. Then she told me you were as well, which confirmed my suspicions. I told her I had to take her back with me, but I’d make sure she was protected. We came up with a plan and, well, you know what happened. A few things didn’t exactly work, but we made it out.”

“And Orson is dead.”

“I wounded him, but your Sean took him out.”

“Why didn’t the room blow?”

“Because I am awesome that way.” Skylar’s voice interrupted us, and I looked up, grinning at her.

She looked…better. Well, at least the blood was gone. She was covered in bruises and bandages, still far too pale, but she was here—safe and alive.

She climbed out of her wheelchair, limped her way over, and bent, kissing Michael’s cheek. “Much better looking now, Mr. Clark.”

“I know.”

“Modest as well, I see.”

He grinned, his dimples deepening. “I call it like I see it.”

She reached out, and I took her hand, the slight tremor letting me know she was putting on a brave front. I shifted, making room, and tugged her down beside me. I dropped a kiss on her head. “Hey, Kitten. Okay?”

She nodded.

The door opened, and both Sean and Julia came in. Sean carried a tray of coffee, and his face broke out into a smile when he saw Michael. After handshakes and coffees were shared, I turned to Skylar.

“All right, MacGyver. How’d you stop the room from blowing? Bubble gum and tinfoil? Hair spray and a toothpick? Or are you a bomb expert in disguise?”

She giggled. “Nothing that elaborate.”

“What then?”

“You told me once Orson kept that remote with him all the time.”

“Yep. His right-hand jacket pocket. Always close. Always ready to set it off.”