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Urgent to have eyes on Candace, I twist around to find her pushing to her feet, her dark hair wild around her face, the wind gusting so damn hard it all but blows her away. I’m there before she’s fully straightened, righting her footing and catching her wrist before I step into her, the feel of her body next to mine, blessed relief. I’m not thinking about her watching me kill Wes right now. I’m thinking about how close she came to him killing her.
My hand comes down on the back of her head. “Tell me you’re okay,” I order, our faces close. “I need to hear the words.”
“Now I am,” she promises, her breath warm on my lips. “Because of you.”
My mouth closes down on her mouth in a desperate need to taste her, my tongue sweeping long and deep, my hand on her back molding her closer. Her arms slide around me, her curves melding into me and God, for minutes there, I thought I’d never feel her like this again. She moans softly, a delicate sound that undoes me and not in the more primal way it normally would. It reminds me that yes, she is tough. She is a fighter. But, in one slice of a well-skilled hand on a blade, and Wes’s hand was skilled, she would have been gone. And he’s not the only one that would see her dead if I don’t see them dead first.
“We need to move now,” I murmur, tearing my lips from hers, my hand closing around her hand.
She gives a quick nod, but her understanding isn’t enough to make me let go of her. I’m never letting her go again and I can’t get her to New York, where I have layers of protection available, soon enough. Pulling her tight to my side, I lead her back to my mother’s grave. Kneeling, I take her down to the ground with me, keeping her within arm’s reach. Candace grabs the flashlight she’d dropped when attacked and holds it for me, an action that might seem small, but isn’t. She almost died minutes ago. She’s not crying. She’s not shaking, in fact, her hand is steady. She’s not freaking out. She’s in fight mode, I sense that in her, and I fucking love her more in this moment than ever, when I already loved her with all that I am. I lean over and kiss her before I grab the blade that killed that buzzard Wes, and use it to dig for the data drive I hid here and pull it from the dirt.
“Oh, thank God,” Candace murmurs. “Please let that be what we need.”
“I didn’t hide it if it wasn’t worth saving,” I promise her, hoping like hell it really is what we need to take down Gabriel and ensure no part of Tag’s operation survives his death. Shoving the knife back into my belt, and standing up, I take her with me to our feet.
“Let’s go,” I murmur, catching her hand but when I would set us in motion, she tugs against me.
“What about him?” she asks, motioning toward what is left of Wes.
“Clean-up support is not on us. We’re leaving.” I start to move.
She tugs harder this time. “What about DNA and cameras and—”
“Baby, trust me,” I say and despite the light it paints me in, I add, “I’ll handle it. I know how to handle these things.”
“Right. Of course.” Her voice is strained, the shadows thick, and I don’t even try to read her reaction right now. Right now, I need to focus on her safety and our future, nothing else. I start walking again and this time she double steps, eager to keep up, while I dig my keys out of my pocket, clicking the clicker to unlock the black Porsche I’d rented.
When I’d arrived in San Antonio, I’d wanted to impress her. I’d also wanted its speed and agility that I hope like hell we don’t need tonight. Once we’re both sealed safely inside, I start the engine and dial Adam. “Wes attacked Candace at the cemetery.”
“I assume he didn’t know your reputation and is now dead?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation. “What clean-up do you need?”
“I’ll have Tag clean up his own mess. Just watch your back.” I disconnect and pull the Porsche onto the highway while hitting the callback to the number Tag called me from. He answers with, “I take it you’re the last man standing?”
“He held a blade to my woman’s neck. Clean up your mess before I turn you into a pile of skin and bones and enjoy it far more than a normal human being should enjoy such things. So much so I’ll take my time and enjoy your screams. He’s at the cemetery, by my mother’s grave.” I disconnect and glance over at Candace, who’s staring ahead, her fingers gripping the seat, her spine stiff. “You sure you’re okay?”
