Page 55 of Critical Strike

“I can’t have him hurt anybody else. I can’t let that happen.” She pulled back enough to look up into his eyes. There were as many questions there as she had running through her head...doubts, too. Was he wondering if they’d make it out of this the way she did?

One thing she knew—even if he did have doubts, he would never voice those doubts in front of her. He would try to be strong the way he always did.

She could be strong, too.

“I’ll turn myself in. Listen,” she insisted when he grimaced, “it’s the only way. I should’ve done it in the first place. I could’ve gotten ahead of this somehow, ahead of him. I was too busy trying to be clever.”

“You did the only thing you could do given the circumstances.”

“And look where it got me. Look where it got them. This is the only way to stop the bleeding, you know what I mean? Put an end to it, go in and tell the police everything.”

“I need you to listen to me.” He leaned in until his face was the only thing in her field of vision. There were no more questions or doubts in his eyes. “You go in and there’s no protection for you. Those detectives—the ones who questioned me—can’t be the only ones under his influence. There are more, so many more, and one or more of them will get to you. They’ll find a split second when you’re outside the range of a security camera and that’ll be that. He will have you killed. Do you understand?”

Funny how speaking became impossible with the threat of her murder dangling in front of her. She could only nod.

“I don’t want to scare you, but that’s just the way it is.” His eyes darted over her face. “Do you understand?”

“I do.” She struggled to say the words.

“The only way to get through this is to work together. We have to come up with a plan. We’ve outsmarted him so far. We just have to keep outsmarting him until he’s beat. Do you believe we can do this together?”

There were moments in Claire’s life when she’d known nothing but doubt, but this wasn’t one of those moments. “I believe you.”

“Good.” His eyes shone. “That’s as good a place to start as any, I guess.”

Chapter Eighteen

Trying to sleep was a waste of time.

What was not a waste, however, was lying in bed with Claire in his arms.

She was asleep, her breathing soft and even. She whimpered every once in a while but would relax when his arms tightened. Like she knew she could trust him even when sleeping.

Now he had to earn that trust.

Which was probably why he couldn’t sleep to save his life.

So many factors, so many possibilities. A man like Ballard had a lot of connections, a lot of ties. Like a weed-strewn lawn. Pulling up everything they saw would only get them so far, since weeds spread underground, too. Tomorrow morning there’d be more, and more after that.

How to put an end to it once and for all?

He had to be smarter. Think clearer.

How was he supposed to think clearly when the only woman in the world who’d ever mattered was asleep in his arms, trusting him, needing him? It had never been as important as it was just then to rise above it all, look down at it, see it. Plan a way out.

It had never been more impossible.

She stirred and he went still, careful not to wake her. At least one of them should be well-rested.

But it was no use. She lifted her head from his chest, blinking away sleep. “Mmm?”

“Mmm?” Even now, he couldn’t help but grin at how cute she was.

“Did you say something?” Her voice was thick but still sweet.

“No. You might’ve been dreaming. Go back to sleep.”

“Not if you’re awake.”