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“I want to write the truth. Not altered through personal agendas or political sides, just pure facts, the way it used to be. Talk to people. Get their side of the truth. Talk to more people and collect their data. Then write it exactly as they told it to me and let the reader draw their own conclusions.”
“I see.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “What do you see, Clay?”
“That you don’t like being lied to. You don’t want smoke blown up your ass or to be given false hope.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. For a horrible moment, he thought she might break down crying. But she straightened her shoulders. “You’re right. Just about the only person who’s never lied to my face is Andrew. But he’s not here.”
“I’m here now. And I won’t lie to you, Lark. I’ll always tell it like it is.”
“So you’ll tell me if what you’re going to do is dangerous.”
Unprepared for that question, he compressed his lips. “It won’t come with a high level of danger.”
“But you don’t only plan on investigating, do you, Clay? You’re going to try to meet with someone who could be a potential threat.”
“That’s true. But I won’t bring you into it with me.”
His mind shifted to the forum posts. One word kept popping up in his mind. Something about light. While the word had no connection yet to the bomb that Lark picked up, it tripped all the alarms he’d built into his psyche over the years. His gut was telling him that word could bring in a hell of a lot more people who believed they were doing good deeds…“lighting” the world by ridding it of what they believed to be evil.
That bomb Lark picked up wasn’t supposed to detonate and instantly kill people. If he had to guess, he’d say it was supposed to make some rounds. Change hands a bit. Until it reached a larger group of people.
Which was why the bomb unit was prevented from ever reaching it.
He might not have everything worked out yet, but he did require a solid plan for what to do about Lark. In the event that he was called to meet someone he made contact with, he needed to ensure she was safe and had an armed guard.
His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his mind. He grabbed it out of the cupholder and brought it up.
“Julius. What’s up?”
“Hoping you haven’t fucked up my truck yet.”
“The day’s still young.” He grinned. “I can say the same about you driving my truck.”
Julius made a scoffing noise. “I’ve been driving mini-bikes since I was four. I can drive this truck backward, blindfolded, with one arm.”
Lark giggled.
“What do you say you don’t try that?” Clay asked. “What’s up?”
“Got some intel about that name you gave me.”
He meant blackwillow73.
“What about him?”
“He was being transferred to the prison. Someone hijacked the transport…and broke him out.”
* * * * *
Lark couldn’t tear her gaze off Clay. As a man, he was impressive. As a man in action? He was glorious.
Fire and fury took turns rampaging over his rugged features. Every muscle was primed for battle. She had no doubt in her mind that if crossed, this man was deadly.
And that was both sexy and scary.
The instant Julius shared what happened with the prisoner, Clay stomped on the gas. Lawdy, the man could drive too. The momentum pinned Lark against the back of her seat. As he maneuvered on and off interstates and wove in and out of traffic at top speed, she experienced the adrenaline rush he had to be feeling too.
