Page 25 of Clay

“Dylan died on impact, or at least that’s what I choose to believe. The co-pilot lived for a little while, but I stopped hearingher after a while. I thought I’d been the only one to survive, didn’t find out about Jordan until we were strapped inside the rescue chopper. I was trapped in the wreckage, knew I was probably going to die, either from my injuries or from the insurgents who’d shot us down.” He turned, looked her square in the eye. “I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be taken.”

She nodded slowly, understanding what he hadn’t said. Was horrified by it but understood on a gut level.

He looked back over Sin City, and she knew he’d traveled back, to that other desert, where he was under attack yet again.

“Cali and Benny were the ones who rescued Jordan and me. They were both pararescue and got us home safely. I’ll leave it to Dev and the others to tell their stories, if they choose. The bottom line is that Dev is stupid rich and decided to bankroll SMS as a kind of atonement. It was something we all needed, so now this is what we do. Some clients have the money to help subsidize the business, and those that don’t,” he shrugged, “we take on pro-bono or at a rate they can afford. We lost Benny a little over six months ago to distracted driving. It brought us all back together and SMS was born the day of his funeral."

She stood beside him, silent, absorbing his words. She had the feeling he’d never told a civilian about them before. Felt honored that he’d chosen to share with her. Understood that when he was talking about SMS, he was talking about family. She had no idea what the hell the story was with his father and the call today, but at least she understood why these were the people he'd gravitated to at the worst moment of his life.

“I told you this because I need you to understand that Dev isn’t the only one looking to atone. It’s why I won’t touch you when while I’m on the job, even though everything inside me wants to.”

Ivy went statue-still as he continued to look out over the city. His words were simple, but the tone was molten-hot and brought their kiss back in vivid detail.

He turned to face her, and his expression was carved from granite. “I’m not some white knight, Ivy.” His voice was perfectly even, perfectly earnest.

She almost smiled, because she’d never met a man more suited to rescuing damsels in distress than Clay Andrews.

Instead, she went on instinct and stepped to him, looping her arms around his back, laying her head against his chest, and just hugged him.

He stood stiff for a long moment, and she listened to his heart thumping ever so steadily in his chest, wondering if he was going to push her away. Just like she’d never met more of a white knight, she’d also never met someone in such dire need of simple affection.

The drunken voice of his father rang in her ears again and she hugged him even tighter.

Sure, she wanted to sleep with him, but even more than that, she wanted to bring him peace.

His posture shifted as he began to return the embrace, as he pulled her impossibly tighter against his body. She burrowed in, just as she’d wanted to a few minutes ago.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I won’t ask you to split your attention.”

He jerked the slightest bit at that, and she felt the urge to soothe again.

“You seem to forget I grew up in the Air Force. I played with cops’ kids, and one summer with the daughter of a special forces guy who never came back.” She continued to hold him tight. “I’ve never faced the kind of loss you did with Dylan, but I’ve been around it. Seen it unfold. Felt as much of that kind of painas I could understand at the time. So I won’t split your focus. But after we find Katie, we’re going to talk again.”

That made him go pliant in her arms again, or at least as pliant as Clay ever got. She pulled away, noted with a small smile that he lingered, taking his time in reentering his own space.

“Now let’s order something extravagant from the room service menu since sex is off the table,” she shot a smile over her shoulder as she entered the penthouse.

Clay groaned. “You’re going to make me pay for this, aren’t you?”

She laughed. “Oh yeah. Not enough for you to lose your concentration, but just enough to torture you. Think hours of yoga. I’m very, very bendy.”

Clay let out a bark of laughter and she felt triumph unfurl within.

~

Clay called Ivy’s bluff about the excessive dinner, not so surprised when she ordered a salad with grilled salmon. He chose the same, wanting to stay light on his feet, but ordered an extra filet for the protein.

They ate on the balcony, since it wasn’t as if there was a sniper hunting Ivy and enjoyed the cooling night and the sounds of The Strip so far below.

When his phone pinged with a text, he was slow to read it.

He liked being here with her, chatting about nothing, almost as if they were on a date.

But they weren’t. He was protecting her and trying to find her best friend. So he did his job, even as something quickened inside him. When they found Katie…

He scrutinized the text. It was from a private number, but was unquestionably from Dev. There were very few people in the world with Dev’s kind of privilege. And he’d invoked Dylan’sname and the tail number of the aircraft that’d been shot down. Yeah, it was Dev.

So he dialed, put the phone on speaker. If Dev wanted him to go private, he could, but unless this involved a new client, there was no reason to keep anything a secret from her.

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