“I…I got this…for you.” She shoves it toward me.
“How?” I take the package from her. And although I'm fucking thrilled it's here, I can't begin to imagine the lengths she had to go through to retrieve it.
She blinks and seems to snap out of her daze. “You promise you won’t freak out?”
I breathe in deeply in a desperate attempt to calm myself from doing the very thing she thinks I’m going to do. We’ve only been in each other’s lives a short time, but she already knows me well.
“Okay,” I finally say quietly, not sure whether or not I’ll be able to pull it off, but for her, I’ll try.
Claire averts her gaze and reaches behind her, pulling out another surprise to completely throw me off balance.
I want to grab the gun from her—throw it into the ocean and get it as far away from her as possible. But the way she holds it, rigid yet loosely, with her finger running straight, showing perfect trigger control, tells me that she’s either a natural or potentially experienced in this department.
Still, the urge to get any possible threat away from her is strong.
And so, her mouth opens once more, and she explains how she came into possession of both items. The conversation she overheard, the internal battle she faced on whether or not she should go, the gun, and Jared showing up when he did and how she forced him to tell her where the package was located. Part of me thinks she’s leaving fragments out, not wanting to tell me the whole story. The other part of me is in awe of how she handled the situation.
Yeah, of course, I'm pissed that she was incredibly reckless, but damn am I proud of her, too.
“He said it was Steve and some guy named Boston?” She’s sitting on the couch now, her elbow propped up on the back of it while she’s facing me.
The stolen package sitting on the coffee table, the gun resting beside it.
I scan my memory for anyone by that name, only settling on a smaller built dude who’s new to Franklin’s organization. Clearly, there’s no way he matches the description of one of the assholes who beat me up.
Meaning only one thing—Jared lied.
And if that’s the case, he more than likely was involved in what happened, he was just too fucking afraid of Claire to admit it. He must have been genuinely concerned that she was going to shoot him if he wouldn’t admit to his role in what went down.
That alone brings me a sense of comfort, knowing Claire put that much fear in him.
I’ve sensed it from the beginning—this hidden strength under the surface, something that no one has ever supported or allowed her to embrace.
Claire has been plagued by shitty people controlling her, bringing her down, and the time for that to stop has finally come. And I think she’s realizing it, too.
“J…do you know a Boston?” She stares at me, waiting for a response.
I shrug. “I’m not sure. Maybe. I’m bad with names.” If my gut is right, and Claire is willing to shoot someone because of what happened, I don’t exactly want to admit the whole truth just yet. I need her emotions to settle down before she grabs the gun and finishes them off.
It’s strange though, to have a person who cares this much in your life. I sort of got used to doing everything on my own. I fight my battles alone because that’s what I grew up doing. I never knew my dad, and I lost my mom when I was young. My aunt got custody of me, but it was my cousin who sort of took me under his wing. Eventually, they both left, too. Her to an overdose and him to the army. I’ve known Bram most of my life, but I’d never expect anything from him. Hell, I even feel guilty when he won’t let me pay for my food.
“Are you mad at me?” Claire’s question snaps me back to reality.
I place my hand on her knee. “No, of course not.” I rub my thumb along her silky skin. “Just promise me you won’t do anything that dangerous without telling me first?” It’s not that I want to control her, but more so that I can be there if something goes wrong. We’re a team now, and I don’t want her to think she has to do stuff alone, either.
“I wanted to; I really did. I just didn’t want to distract you while you were working.” Claire shifts closer to me. “Your job is already consuming enough.”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, I tell her, “But you’re more important, okay?”
She leans into my touch and her eyes close.
“I’m serious.” I silently plead with her to understand the lengths I would go to protect her. It makes no sense how she could mean this much to me so soon, but she does, and I can’t allow anything to get in the way of that.
Her lids open and that gorgeous blue stare pierces me. “What are you going to do?”
“Good question.” I flit my attention to the contraband sitting on the table waiting for me to make a decision.
* * *