Page 172 of Brutal Collateral

“What did he mean when he asked you, did you bring Ava?”

I ball my hands into fists. “After the meeting today, he cornered me. Told me he’d make sure his father voted for the projectifI gave him my wife. He’s running for his father’s senate seat. And he thinks a retired Navy lieutenant wife who he romantically met at SEAL training would ensure him votes.”

“Christ.” Shane dumps his head into his hands. “What a mess.”

“That vote is in two weeks. I need you to make sure that Hadleigh’s identification is wiped out of existence, if Ares hasn’t done it already,” I say through clenched teeth. “She gave blood at her physical. They have her DNA. Get it wiped off their system. Miller can’t take her if he can’t use her Navy record to identify her.”

“On it.” Shane’s got some fucking to-do list. But he’s single, and considering what happened with Lennox Donnelly, I doubt he’ll ever trust a woman again.

We pile into my Escalade, andIcall Grayson Hart to update him on the threat to his pregnant wife. He answers on the first ring and is angry but appreciative of the upfront information and how we want to protect our sister. I just hope Sabine doesn’t kick my ass for going behind her back and putting a bodyguard on her.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Griffin

Ireturn home at nearlythree in the morning expecting to find Ava asleep, but she’s wide awake in bed, reading a book.

She drops it the minute I step inside. “Well?”

“Complication.” I start tossing shit on my dresser. “We didn’t kill him. But don’t worry, he’ll never get near you.”

“God, I’ve done nothing but cause problems,” she chokes out.

“Trust me. The big pile of dog shit we stepped in tonight is not your fault.” I face her sitting on the edge of the bed. “You don’t look affected that he’s still alive.”

Ava stares at me with something new in her eyes, a blend of strength and fear.

“My mind has been otherwise occupied the last few hours.” She pushes off the bed.

When she’s close to me, I crush her against my chest. A chill goes through me that I can’t name. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

But there’s so much more to tell her, including how I’ve fallen so hard for her, it’s a traffic jam in my brain. Yet holding her right now, nothing else seems important.

My fingers thread through the short strands of her hair, grown out enough for me to get a grip and tip her head up to look at me. “Whyareyou still awake?”

“I’ve had a little complication of my own.” With a trembling hand, she brings me into the bathroom.

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