Page 18 of Critical Strike

When she didn’t so much as move, he gently pressed the candy to her mouth, offering encouraging murmurs as she took tiny bites at a time.

Across the street from the gas station, the lights of a three-story hotel beckoned. Luke wanted to get farther out of town, but Claire was done. She needed to rest.

After paying cash for a room on the bottom floor, he made sure to park the truck where he could see it from the hotel window.

Claire dragged her feet as she walked down the hotel hall. His arms itched to pick her up and carry her, just like she did Khan. Instead, he kept a hand on her arm and slowly led her to their room.

He parked her just inside the door while he checked every inch of the hotel room before he let Claire climb into the bed.

Khan immediately jumped up beside her and curled up against her stomach. When Luke looked back up at Claire’s face, she was already asleep, her hand resting in Khan’s fur.

Luke scrubbed his face with his palm. The intense day had also left him tired, but sleep wouldn’t be easy coming.

Grabbing the armchair from the table, he hauled it over to the space between the bed and the door. If trouble were coming for her, it would have to get through him first.

He ate his candy bar, wincing as she whimpered in her sleep. Bad dreams. If he could wipe them all from her mind, he would, along with everything else that had happened over the last few days.

But he couldn’t. All he could do was guard over her, like he had when they were kids. She may be all grown up, but she was still fragile, still needed a protector.

He couldn’t stand to think about what might have happened to her if she hadn’t escaped Passage Digital. And then all those risky moments between then and now...

His hands fisted. Claire was with him now, and no one was going to hurt her.

Not on his watch.

Chapter Six

Ballard leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a solid, uninterrupted night’s sleep?

It was definitely before certain treacherous employees, who didn’t know the value of keeping their mouths shut, decided to poke around in matters that did not concern them.

When his eyes opened, his gaze immediately fell on the spot on the floor where Julia’s body had fallen. No blood. Brooks was good that way—a professional, efficient, somebody who did what needed doing without asking questions or allowing personal feelings to muddy the waters.

If only all his associates shared that professionalism.

He should’ve known Julia wasn’t the only weak link. And she was clever, too. He had to give her credit for that. A shame to lose such a brilliant mind, all because her brilliance hadn’t lent itself to self-preservation.

In the end, she hadn’t even come up with a solid reason for lurking in his office. Julia had not been a practiced liar since her excuse had been almost juvenile.

It was Claire who interested him these days. Having evaded him, Claire seemed to be somewhat better at lying, at least for now. She couldn’t run forever, not with so many eyes on her every move.

The knock at his office door didn’t come as a surprise. “Enter.” He sat up and straightened his tie while the door swung open and the pair he’d expected joined him. They stood before him, knowing better than to take a seat unless offered one.

He looked from one to the other, noting—not for the first time—how similar the men were in build and mannerisms, right down to their crew-cut hair. Both were men of few words, too, which suited Ballard. “Talk to me.”

Brooks and Masters exchanged a look that didn’t go far toward granting confidence. “There’s not that much to tell, sir,” Brooks said in his deep growl.

“Not that much to tell?” He blinked, looking from one to the other. Waiting for one of them to crack. People always cracked when pressed hard enough in just the right place. “How can that be?”

“She got away.” Masters remained with his hands clasped behind his back, but beads of sweat at his temple told a story of nerves...of cracking under them.

His blood pressure began to rise. He knew it from the telltale roaring in his ears. “How?”

“We don’t know.” Brooks lifted his thick shoulders. “I’m sorry, sir, but those are the facts. When the men entered the room, she was gone. She left her things behind, too.”

“The drive?”

“No, I’m sorry. They turned the place upside down.” As if that made it better.

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