Chapter 25
Adam
The dark circles under Claire’s eyes crack my heart into pieces.
As she rests, I lie there in the darkened room, staring at the ceiling.
My mind is running too fast. I’m not sure if I didn’t notice just how run-down Claire was before, or if I was too caught up in seeing her again and the knowledge that we made a kid, that I just ignored it, but I can’t now. It’s all I can think about.
How long has it been since she’s slept? How long has it been since she’s actually felt safe?
Long before Cano, I bet. Is she feeling okay? Is there a problem with the pregnancy?
I’ve been selfish, thinking only of myself and how badly I wanted to see Claire again. How much I wanted to see if the chemistry we built could continue.
I should have been wondering how she was coping with everything. After watching her tonight, her trying so hard to show me she’s okay, I finally think I understand.
I’ve told Woodcroft that coming here for was her own good, but now it’s time to actually act on that.
It isn’t about me. It isn’t about the artifacts or trying to catch the big players.
I’m here to help Claire get over the trauma of her time with Cano, the loss of her brother, and this huge life change of bringing a baby into the world.
I scrub my hand through my hair and walk out to the living area.
Maybe I should shield her from the investigation altogether.
My hand digs for my phone in my jean pocket, pulling it out. I text Woodcroft.
Me:
I think I need to pull Claire out of the investigation completely.
Woody:
What does that mean exactly? Is she asking for this?
Me:
No. I just think she’s been through a lot and needs a break from it all. I mean, how much can she really help us? She has so much on her plate right now. I don’t want to do anything that could stress her or the baby out.
Woody:
How deep are you exactly?
Me:
Deep. But this isn’t about me at all. She’s been through too much.
Woody:
I’ll agree to not bring her on unless absolutely needed. But you need to let me know how you are doing. If things progress quickly, I need to be informed. I can’t have this investigation blown because of your feelings for her.
Me:
You really think I would blow the investigation?
Woody:
This isn’t about you, A. This is about a case we’ve worked on for years. I can’t let anything jeopardize that. Baby or not, girlfriend or not.
Me:
I know.
Woody:
Good. I have new information I’m sending that I need you to look at tomorrow.
Me:
Yes, sir.
Woody:
I’m not saying not to worry about Claire, but we need to get to the bottom of this case too.
I can’t have my team fly by the seat of their pants.
The faster we get this case closed, the faster you can have a real shot with Claire—and not just at the safehouse.
You need a real place to raise a family, and the way you both are living right now isn’t it.
I’m just trying to help you get to a better place for your family, Adam, and that means closing this thing once and for all.
I hate his logic. And I know I still have a job to do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t also take care of Claire and her pregnancy. I can multitask.
Me:
I hear you. Send it over. I’ll start working on it tonight.
Tossing my phone onto the couch, I continue pacing while I wait for the email Woodcroft is sending.
How did I get here?
How did I get from a basic undercover case to being locked up in a pseudo safehouse with a woman I met when I wasn’t Adam Morrison? Not to mention getting her pregnant.
My computer pings, thank God, giving me something to do other than go around in circles in my mind.
The file I pull up takes me a minute to read, but once I’m done, I’m more confused than ever.
We know that Lorentz and Page are the big hitters in this case. I thought we were trying to get proof they’re involved so that we can bring them in, but according to this? They’re just the tip of the iceberg of heavy hitters involved.
What could get worse than a tech genius and a billionaire being involved in stealing priceless artifacts?
A four-star general potentially being involved.
Woodcroft made an inquiry, about some of the artifacts we have, to an expert at the MET and was met with an official letter from the Department of Defense.
That means there’s more to the story here. More to the entire plot. Oscar was just a pawn—a very low one at that.
Shit.
I pull up all the information I have on the case—all my notes, as well as the team’s. I read over everything, trying to connect the dots, but nothing is obvious.
What the hell is going on here?
I peek at the clock on the bottom right of my computer, realizing it’s almost four in the morning, so calling Woodcroft isn’t an option.
“Adam?” Claire’s hesitant voice calls from the bedroom.
I rush into her room to see her huddling under the blankets, looking around in fear.
“Hey, I’m here.” I shush her and kneel by her side.
“I’m sorry. I-I thought you left,” she whispers.
“Never. Did you hear something?” I ask, hoping it was just something small that spooked her.
“No. Nightmare.”
My eyes close as my head tips back. Of course she’s been having nightmares. I’m an idiot.
“You want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head, eyes screwed shut tight.
“It might help,” I encourage her.
How long has she been shoving all of this down? Has she ever talked about how Charlie’s death has affected her? Has she processed any of the changes on her life?
“No,” she croaks. “Can you just hold me for a minute?”
“Absolutely.” I pop up onto my feet and walk around to the other side of the bed.
I don’t’ bother getting undressed. I don’t get under the covers. Instead, my arm goes around the woman I can’t stop thinking about, just above her small bump, who is shaking like a leaf. My hold tightens until she starts taking slow, deep breaths and finally falls back asleep.
I jackknife up when I hear a clang out in the living area. My hand moves to my firearm on the nightstand before I register the action. Gun drawn, I quickly yet quietly walk into the main space. What I see slows my pounding heart.
“Hi— Oh God! Sorry!” Claire says, throwing her hands up in surrender.
I immediately drop my gun and tuck it into my belt holster.
“Sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” I suck in a deep breath before walking over to her.
I just pulled a gun on my pregnant … whatever she is. Holy shit. My pulse is still wildly thundering through my veins.
“I was trying to cook you breakfast, but apparently I’m not a very quiet person.” She cringes.
“I’m actually shocked I didn’t wake up immediately when you got out of bed.” I scrub my hand over my jaw. Am I losing my touch? Probably. My head is all fucked up, so that’s certainly not helping.
“I was trying to let you sleep.”
This awkwardness, stiltedness, between us is foreign but not surprising, I guess.
“Can I help?” I gesture to the stove that has bacon and hashbrowns cooking up.
“Nope. I’ve got a handle on it.” She smiles at me before flipping the food.
I have this startling view of what life could really be like. Us, starting out our day by cooking breakfast together. Her bump on full display. Me getting to touch it and talk to it any time I want.
I want that so fucking badly.
There’s something about Claire that just clicks in my head and my life. It scares the shit out of me.
“I, ah, have to make a call really quickly, but I’ll be right back.”
“Of course.” She glances over her shoulder at me.
The ringing phone makes me antsy. I don’t have answers, but I’m sure as hell hoping Woodcroft has more information. What I won’t admit to is using this phone call as a distraction from all things Claire.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Juliette’s voice cuts in.
I pull back my phone and make sure I called the right person, but it shows Woody.
“I called Woody.”
“Oh, I know. He’s in a meeting, so his shit transfers to me in important instances.”
“So, I’m considered important now?” I smirk.
“What can I do for you, A?” Juliette ignores me.
“Woody sent me some information that I wanted to chat with him about.”
“Oh! The DOD letter?”
“Yep.”
“I’ve been having a good time with this one. I think Woody wants someone to go to the MET to talk to that expert in person and bypass all the written bullshit. If someone at the DOD is hooked up in this, doing things the proper way might not get us anywhere.”
“I’ll go,” I volunteer.
“Adam …”
“Seriously. We can plan it.” I immediately think about bringing Claire because she loves the MET and knows more about the place than I do. If I’m able to get her to deal with Charlie’s death a little more, open up to me, I wouldn’t hate that either.
“I hear you’re volunteering for shit you shouldn’t be,” Woodcroft’s voice booms on the line.
“That’s my cue,” Juliette says.
“Why shouldn’t I be? I’m closer to this case than anyone,” I tell him.
His sigh is probably heard throughout the entire office. “We need to be on the same page, man.”
“I know. I’m a mess,” I offer, sitting on the step leading up to the house.
“You’re not a mess. You’re conflicted. I have no major issue with you going to talk to the expert, but that would leave Claire alone and would give you less time with her to figure all of this out if we actually get good information.”
“I know.”
Whatever he hears in my voice apparently gives me away.
“You want to bring her with you.” Not a question.
“We went to the MET together while we were undercover. She has an interest in some of the art. It might be helpful.”
“I can’t sign off on that.”
“Is she truly unsafe right now? I understand wanting to keep her around for identifying, but does she need to be full-on hidden from everyone? Who’s left in Cano’s squad that would give a shit?”
“We don’t know.” I can tell he’s getting frustrated with me.
“Cano is dead. Nico is dead. Who else knew of her involvement?”
“You’re a stubborn asshole,” he grumbles.
“I am.”
“I don’t like this.”
“I can protect her,” I offer.
“And what if you get into a trap? What if someone follows you and you don’t have backup? She’s pregnant, Adam.”
“You think I don’t know that? I won’t let anything happen to her, and you know that. Give me backup. Send me Stone or Sin. They can follow and make sure everything looks clear.”
Silence meets my ear as I hear Claire walk to the door. She gestures over to the kitchen, and I nod in understanding.
“I’ll set it up and send you the details.” Then he hangs up.
Well then.
I get up and join Claire in the kitchen for breakfast. “This looks delicious.”
We eat quietly while I try to come up with a way to bring up putting Claire to work with me. Hell, maybe it’s not something she even wants to do.
“You look like something’s on your mind.” She sighs.
“I just had call with my boss.”
“And you’re leaving.” She nods.
“Well, I’m hoping maybe you’ll come with me.”
“What?” The sound of her fork hitting the table echoes in the bare house.
“We got some information, and someone needs to go to the MET to talk to one of the experts.”
“The MET,” she whispers, and I know the connection to her brother is probably too much for her.
“I overstepped. I apologize. I can go by myself.” I want to push her, but I know I need to not make huge jumps too soon. She doesn’t trust me yet.
She sits for a minute before looking at me in the eyes. “Tell me what needs to happen.”
“I can’t tell you everything.”
“Understood. Carry on.” Her small smile gives me hope.
Hope for what? I’m not sure yet.
“We need to speak directly with an expert there about some of the artifacts we acquired from Oscar. We attempted to email and write a letter but got … blocked.” I attempt to work it so she kind of understands it without telling her point blank that this goes high up.
“What do we hope to gain from this?” she asks.
“Origins. Possibly where the artifacts were stolen from. Any interested parties, although I doubt we’ll get information on that.”
“So, Cano is just the beginning,” she guesses correctly.
“Seems so.”
“Am I safe? Are you?”
“Yes. We’ll have some backup. I swear on everything I possibly can that you will be safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I watch her every move. Every little tick, fidget, and sigh.
“Let’s do it.” She finally raises her eyes back to mine with a determination I haven’t seen since she was in her Nova persona.
“We can spend the day planning, rest up, and then head down tomorrow.”