Page 30 of Condor’s Vow

“I swapped shifts with Lottie Ahern. It was my brother’s birthday, and we wanted to go out.”

“Where is Lottie Ahern now? I haven’t seen her name in the files.”

“She died about six months ago from an aneurysm. It was really sudden. Her husband was heartbroken.”

“I think you could be a target, Hattie.” Clay pulled back so she could see his eyes filled with so much love that neither of them had expressed yet. “I won’t let anyone get to you. I promise. I only just found you, there’s no way I’m letting some sick fuck with a vendetta take you from me. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you.”

Clay nodded once. “Good. That said, from tonight onwards you’re either at my place or I’m here. Got it?”

“That’s very bossy of you.” Hattie let warmth uncurl inside her as his lips caught hers and he sucked her bottom lip between his teeth before letting go.

“Gorgeous, when it comes to your safety, I don’t give a fuck if you think I’m bossy. If you don’t want me in your bed, then the couch is fine, but I protect what’s mine, and you’re mine.”

“Then you’re mine.”

“Damn right, I am.”

“I want you in my bed, Clay, and not just to protect me. I want to wake up with you and have you make love to me and hold me.”

Clay’s eyes went soft, and he cupped her nape, bringing her close, so he spoke against her lips. “Making it really hard not to fall in love with you, gorgeous.”

“Good, because I’m head over heels for you.”

If possible, his smile got wider. “Fucking cute, sexy, and mine.”

He kissed her, brushing his lips over hers until she opened her mouth to his tongue and let him show her all the things he wanted to do to her with just that kiss.

They were interrupted when Mr. Chester began to growl again, and Clay stood and went to the window. He glanced back at her and held out his hand. “It’s my team.”

Hattie linked her fingers with his and held on as she saw three men walking down her path. Hattie frowned and couldn’t believe she’d missed it before, but the security lights were out. It had been light when she came home, and when she’d greeted Clay, her mind had been focused on her fear, not her surroundings.

“The security light didn’t come on.”

Clay cocked his head and gave her fingers a light squeeze. “We’ll check it all out, Hattie.”

Her tension eased, and it was strange how she completely trusted him to do precisely what he’d said he would—protect her.

He let the newcomers in and made quick introductions to Drake Dean, or ‘Lyric’ as she was told to call him, never letting go of her in the process, which she liked. Hattie was independent and would never be classified as needy but having this support felt good. She knew Hawk and Sandstorm from the party at Cruz’s place, and they greeted her with a smile that was still friendly, but held none of the flirtation there had been that day. These men were on duty and ready to do their jobs, and she suspected they respected the fact that Clay hadn’t let her go.

Lyric was different from the others, quiet, reserved, watchful, and she sensed an edge of danger about him. He was still as he observed her and Clay, his eyes not missing a thing, his body language wary. He was handsome, with long mousy blond hair that was slightly messy, tattoos on his hands and neck, which were the only parts she could see, the rest covered in black jeans, a black tee, a black leather jacket, and scuffed biker boots on his feet.

Nothing about him said FBI and yet the intelligence in his dark eyes and the way he carried himself made her sure he could do this job, and perhaps even knew sides of it that the others didn’t. Like the criminal element of the job.

Clay led them through to the kitchen and showed them what he’d found. Not wanting to see the note again, Hattie made coffee for them all. She had to do something to keep her hands busy, or she’d go crazy.

Her mind went to the night she’d swapped shifts for Martin’s thirty-fifth birthday, and she wondered if her being on shift would have made a difference and knew it wouldn’t have. All of the doctors in the ER were more than competent and capable. If those children could’ve been saved, they would’ve saved them.

“Should I call my brothers and let them know what’s going on?”

All four men stopped talking and looked up at her, but her eyes were on Clay. He said something to Sandstorm who nodded, before moving toward her. When he was up close and in her space, he rested his hands on her shoulders, and the weight and warmth of his touch gave her comfort.

“You doing okay?” His question was thoughtful as he rubbed her arms through her top, and she wished he was touching her skin.

“Yes, not my best day but I won’t be falling apart any time soon.”

His lips quirked at that as his eyes rested on the logo on her sweatshirt. “This an ex-boyfriend’s?”