Transfer (The Retrieval Duet #2)

Swear to God, I deserved a medal of honor for that act of heroism.

One thing had become blatantly obvious to me in that time: Letting her go was no longer an option.

But, after today, it was clear keeping her wasn’t going to be easy, either.

Yes, I could make her laugh and keep her safe. But I couldn’t fix her, no matter how much I wanted to. She needed help that I just couldn’t offer. She and Tessa both.

“I think it’s time you talk to a therapist,” I announced.

“I think it’s time I talk to the police.”

I jerked my head back so I could get a read on her face. “What?”

Despite the fact that the DEA had offered Clare full immunity in exchange for her testimony and cooperation in their case against Noir, she was still a nervous wreck about it. After a fair amount of talking in circles, I’d convinced Tomlinson to give us time for her to heal physically before dragging her through questioning. I’d yet to tell her that that time had run out—days ago. It was all I could do to keep them off her back until we had gotten the results of Tessa’s DNA.

“He’s going to kill me, Heath. It’s better we get everything documented before he does,” she stated emotionlessly.

My body tensed. “He’s not—”

She suddenly pushed up on an elbow and looked at me. “You know what I don’t get? How the hell a disgusting piece of shit like Walter creates something as perfect as Tessa.” She sat all the way up and folded her legs to crisscross between us. “I mean, how does that happen? Meanwhile, I can’t have kids. Roman, either, ya know? When we did in vitro, I was twenty-five years old, in tip-top health, with shit for eggs. And, somehow, drug-dealing, slime-of-the-Earth Walter fucking Noir can jerk his dick in a cup and create something as perfect as my baby girl.”

I would have rather gouged my eyes out with a rusty coat hanger than think of Walter “jerking” anything into a cup. But that wasn’t her question, and at least she was talking.

“She’s perfect because of you.”

“She was perfect when she came out.” She leaned forward, her blond hair slipping from behind her ear. “How did he do that?”

“I don’t know.” I reached up, caught the lock of her hair, and twisted it between my fingers. “I honestly have no fucking idea.” I gave her hair a gentle tug, pulling her down as I rose up on an elbow to bring us nose-to-nose. “But one thing I can tell you is that his role in her life is over. I don’t give a fuck what that DNA test reads. He is not her father. He’s not even a sperm donor. That man is nothing to her. Nothing to you, either. You two do not exist for him anymore.”

She scoffed, so I released her hair and caught the back of her neck.

“Swear to God, Clare. You do not exist for him. At all. Ever again. He won’t kill you. He won’t take Tessa. Because I will have his head on a stake before he so much as looks at either of you.”

Her lips thinned in a patronizing smile. “You’re sweet.”

I arched an incredulous eyebrow. “I’m sweet?”

“I know you believe that—”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. Releasing her neck, I caught her at the back of the legs and forced her back to the mattress.

She squeaked as I followed her down, landing my hands on either side of her head, my body hovering above her as I supported myself on my knees.

“Do you trust me?”

She blinked a few times before nodding.

“This is serious. Do not lie to me. Do. You. Trust. Me?”

She licked her lips then nodded again.

Slowly, I lowered myself down on top of her, her legs parting and my hips falling between them. I kept my weight on one elbow but brought my other hand up to cup her jaw.

“Tessa believes in Santa Claus. And the Easter Bunny. And the Tooth Fairy. You believe Walt is going to kill you. And he believes you belong to him. But, Clare, I don’t believe any of that. Beliefs are bullshit. I know for a fucking fact that you do not exist for him. Because, I’ll repeat: I will have his head on a stake before he so much as looks at either of you. That is my word.”

She stared up at me, tears filling her eyes. “Heath,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around my neck, bringing our chests flush.

I held her gaze as I swore, “There is nothing in this world that I will not do to protect you two. And, if you think for one second that I can’t do it, you are highly underestimating the depths of my selfishness when it comes to you and your girl.”

I shouldn’t have done it.

Not even two hours ago, she’d had a complete mental breakdown.

But she was so fucking close.

Her mouth inches away from mine.

Her sweet breath mingling with mine.

Her soft breasts pressed against my chest and her heated core resting against my zipper, only two layers of denim dividing us.

Three months of tension in desperate need of release.

Three months of anxiety making me weak.