Retrieval (The Retrieval Duet #1)

“Put your fucking hands up!” was the last thing I heard before I felt an arm wrap around my stomach and begin to drag me backward.

“Clare!” Rorke called just as I heard, “Come with me, Clare,” whispered in my ear.

Luke.

And, finally, I crumbled.

My breath rushed from my mouth on a wail as I allowed him to pull Tessa from my arms.

“Shit,” he cursed, supporting the majority of my weight on one side, Tessa on his other as he guided us into the gym and straight to his office.

Safety.

He planted me in a chair then settled Tessa in my lap long enough to unroll a yoga mat and dig a notebook and a bunch of highlighters out for her to draw with.

I was so numb that I couldn’t even argue with him that I was okay.

There was no brave face anymore.

Tessa might not be your biological child, rang in my ears.

Once he had her settled, he crouched in front of me and finally asked, “What the hell is going on?”

The right answer was, Nothing.

The right thing to do was put a smile on, forget everything that had happened out in the parking lot, and go about the day like I hadn’t just been served the most severe beating of my life.

It was the safest thing for everyone involved.

But, for reasons lost on even myself, I threw my arms around his neck and spilled it all.

Luke didn’t hug me back. Instead, he kept both hands anchored to the arms of my chair as he balanced in front of me. I didn’t need the physical contact; I just needed someone to listen.

I was going to get him killed, but the words wouldn’t stop flowing from my mouth.

I told him about the drug trafficking.

Walt’s ties to organized crime.

The murders he’d made me clean up.

The money laundering.

The beatings.

The blood.

The fear.

The prison he kept me in.

And finally.

Tessa.

Why, after all the years of having kept it locked away, I chose to unload it all on a personal trainer, I’d never understand. But finding out that my only reason to wake up the next morning might not even be mine was the final straw.

After I’d told him about what had gone down in the parking lot, I fell silent.

The weight of the world still heavily rested on my shoulders, but the load somehow felt lighter. And, for the briefest of seconds, I took a deep breath for the first time since Walter Noir had walked into my life.

Luke didn’t immediately respond, and I couldn’t blame him.

Finding out the scum of the Earth was doing push-ups right under your nose had to be a hard pill to swallow.

After peeling my arms from around his neck, he placed them in my lap and rocked back on his heels. His blue eyes flashed to Tessa then back to me, his face steeled with confidence as he asked, “How can I help?”

Christ, he was a good guy.

I laughed through my tears. “You can’t. No one can.”

He opened his mouth to reply when a booming, “Where the fuck is my wife!” came from outside the door.

I jumped, and Tessa started crying. After shooting to my feet, I plucked her off the floor and prepared for the worst.

It was Walt.

The worst was all I ever got.





“No,” Roman growled, slamming the door less than a second after he’d opened it.

“What the—” Kristen cried from the other side.

He glared at me over his shoulder, frustration floating in the air around him.

I couldn’t fight my smile back.

“Elisabeth!” she yelled, shaking the door handle in an attempt to get in.

I sauntered past Roman, using my shoulder to nudge him out of the way, and yanked the door open.

As if his sister were an axe murder, he stepped close to my back, protectively looping an arm around my waist.

It was then that I worried Roman could possibly be an axe murder, because if he thought he was claiming me like that after having pinned me to the couch and proclaimed he was sleeping there that night, he had serious mental concerns that needed to be addressed ASAP.

And what better way than with his sister at my side for his intervention.

Kristen’s mouth gaped as her eyes drifted down to his arm.

I grabbed his wrist and roughly removed it. “Hey,” I said casually.

“Dear God, did I hit a time loop?” Her gaze went to her brother. “Quick! What year is it?”

“Better question is what the hell are you doing here?” he sniped back.

She narrowed her eyes. “No. I believe the best question is how in the hell you were able to cross this threshold without Liz lighting you on fire.” Her gaze drifted back to me, her eyebrow arching in accusation. “I thought that was the plan if he showed up. Shit, Liz. Mom even bought the lighter fluid.”