“No shit,” he confirmed. “We’ve got units headed out to where he says Noir’s been hiding out.”
Clare rose from the chair and took a step in my direction, her hand covering her mouth as hope and surprise mingled in her eyes.
I extended an arm and curled it around her shoulders. “Keep us updated. Yeah?”
“Will do.” He hung up.
“Who’d they get?” she asked immediately.
“Brock.”
Her body tensed, but just as quickly, she melted into my side. “Good. I hated him.”
“I know.”
“I once found him standing in the bathroom when I got out of the shower. He refused to leave until one of the recruits rushed in and told him Walt was home.”
I gritted my teeth. I knew this story all too well. I’d destroyed an entire office after Atwood had reported it back through his chain of command just days before he was killed.
“The recruit was Tim Madden, right?” I asked.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, stepping out of my embrace. “That guy was an asshole too.”
“He wasn’t an asshole. He was a good friend of mine.”
“W-what?” she breathed.
“Rob Atwood was his real name. We got to the DEA about the same time.”
Her mouth fell open. “He was DEA?”
I glanced down at the wooden deck, the pain of the memory ripping the scab off. “Yep. He was the first guy we were able to get into Noir’s operations. I was already under as Luke when I got word that we’d landed someone on the inside. I got a lot of my information on you from his reports.”
“Oh my God. I never would have guessed that. He was such a dick.”
I swallowed hard and told the ground, “It was his job to be a dick. But he was always looking out for you.”
“Holy shit. What happened to him?”
I lifted my gaze back to hers. “Tim Madden landed on the APD’s radar, so the DEA was forced to step in and leak his identity to get him off of it. We’d thought for a long time that Noir had someone on his payroll in the APD, but this was the final straw. A day later, Atwood was found dead.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth and gasped. “Oh my God, Heath.”
I shook my head and went back to the grill, opening it to find forty dollars’ worth of charred steaks. “Fuck,” I growled, turning it off.
Her arms folded around my waist from behind. “I’m so sorry.”
“I hope you like well-done,” I replied.
“I meant about your friend.”
“Yeah…it wasn’t exactly a good time, but—”
All further conversation was halted with the shrill of a little girl’s scream.
“Tessa!” I shouted, rushing past Clare and bolting through the door.
I made it into the house just in time to see movement at the foyer.
I couldn’t make the man out, but I knew that it wasn’t Noir. My body relaxed for a fraction of a second when I assumed that it had to be an agent.
And then ice fresh off a glacier flooded my veins as I saw my little girl’s bare feet kicking in his arms.
“Heaf!” she cried.
That was the exact moment every decent, law-abiding part of me tore away from my soul, leaving nothing behind but a visceral need to slaughter whoever had her.
My pulse spiked as I darted after her—after him.
I reached for the gun I wasn’t wearing at my hip, but I never slowed my feet. “Tessa!” I roared, pushing myself harder and faster.
He was slow—clumsy, even—bumping into the walls as he tried to escape. I lost sight of her as the bastard rounded the corner. Then I heard the front door open and my heart lurched into my throat.
“Heath!” Clare shrieked behind me.
“I’ve got her. Hit the panic on the alarm,” I ordered as I ran out.
The unknown man trudged through the grass toward a black SUV at the curb. I knew with an absolute certainty that, if he got to that car, I would never see her again.
I also knew with an absolute certainty that he would never make it to that car.
Her cries fueled my system with a tsunami of adrenaline that allowed me to gain ground on him.
His chubby arm held her around the waist, her head and her legs flopping and jarring with his every step.
My long legs swallowed the distance between us. And, just feet from the car, I dove, landing a shoulder at the small of his back. I did my best to break her fall, but she went crashing down with him. I landed hard on top of his back.
Slinging him over me, I got him as far away from her as I could.
She cried again, but this time, the sound soothed me. She was okay. I could handle whatever the fuck else the asshole planned to throw at me as long as she was okay.
“Go to Mama, Tessa,” I barked, wrestling with the man.
He was no competitor, and I easily got him on his stomach and wrenched his arms up his back until his fingers were nearly tickling his hairline.
He cursed in pain.
I kept my eyes trained on Tessa. She stared at me, tears rolling down her face, grass stains covering her clothes and face. But, despite the emotional trauma that would probably never heal, she appeared unharmed.
“Heaf,” she whined, reaching out for me, concern and worry aging her baby face.