Page 47 of Raven's Curse
Barely stumbling through while holding it all inside. Having the medic part of him unravel this week…
That had been the beginning of his descent into oblivion.
Greer wrapped her arms around herself, looking more than a bit lost, as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. He grabbed her hand, led her around to the passenger side before opening the door.
He crowded her, holding her attention before she climbed inside. “Kash is an ass.”
She gave him a small, genuine smile. “He’s not wrong, though.”
“I’ll make you a deal. Come back to my place, where I know we’ll be safe, and we can sleep on the couch, again. Or in the bed. But, we’ll just sleep.”
She arched a brow. “You promise not to get up in an hour and sit in a chair and stand guard? Because that’s creepy.”
He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Fine. But you’re not earning a badge for this.”
He closed the door once she’d buckled up, then rounded the grill and slipped behind the steering wheel. The engine growled as he pulled out of the parking lot and joined the late-night traffic. Fog rolled in off the ocean, threading through the trees and across the street as he headed for the property.
He waited until they’d turned onto the long winding road up the cliffside before giving her a nudge. “So, Nick Colter. Did you meet him when you shifted over to counterterrorism?”
Greer eyed him, obviously aware he was digging for intel. “He was still with the NCS. Had infiltrated a terrorist cell and needed a working profile for one of the newcomers. He was worried he’d been burned.”
Chase nodded, constantly checking his mirrors. “How long did you two date?”
She twisted to face him, studying his profile for a while before shrugging. “We were on and off for about a year. Nothing serious. I was still dealing with Troy’s death. Was well on my way to drowning myself in tequila.”
“And he offered you a lifeline.”
“More like a hint of light at the end of a tunnel. I still had to drag myself out, but…”
“Can I ask what happened?”
She shifted in her seat. “He got outed. Nearly died, then went dark. I tried to help, dragged his ass back from a few nasty places, but he wasn’t ready to be saved. He resurfaced two years later. Sober. Focused. But by then, whatever we’d had was long gone.”
She reached out and drew her finger along his arm. “He was joking about the dinner thing. The guy’s in a serious relationship with some badass operative.”
Chase glanced at her. “You’re badass.”
“I used to think so. But every time I do something remotely death defying, Jordan walks over and says, ‘Hold my beer’.”
He laughed. “Trust me, she puts us all to shame. And thanks.” He winked. “For not calling me out on the obvious fishing expedition.”
“We both have a past. But if it eases those voices in your head any, there’s one thing Nick could never be.”
He arched a brow in question.
She looked him dead in the eyes. “You.”
He shook his head. “And just like that, you turn the tables on me, again. Looks like you’re ahead by two.”
“Only if we’re keeping score.”
“You’re always keeping score, sweetheart.”
She smiled at the endearment, looking as if she wanted to launch across the console — kiss him — when her eyes widened. She tapped his shoulder, pointing out the left side of the vehicle. “Chase. Pull over.”
He frowned, swerving onto an old access road, his headlights mapping out the scene. Blue strobes throbbed in the distance, the mist pulsing like a heartbeat. Twin beams lit up the forest beyond, tunneling through the fog until the light bled into darkness.
