Page 7 of Critical Strike

Looked like her biggest dream had finally come true. Despite the exhaustion apparent on her face and the scrapes and bruises, he was glad at least that much had happened for her.

“I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. I always wondered what happened to you.” Luke’s heart squeezed tight. He’d probably never admit to anyone just how much he’d thought about her.

“After I left the group home, I went into two long-term foster families.” Claire shrugged. “It worked out okay.”

It didn’t have to be added—she never got adopted.

“You?” Her pale eyebrows lifted.

Luke’s mouth went dry. He’d only stayed at the group home a handful of days following her departure. She was the only reason he hadn’t run away earlier. Claire had a way of always being the kid who got picked on, and she’d needed someone to watch out for her.

“Not long after you left, I was adopted by the Pattersons.” He chose to leave the few months on the streets, before he was found and dragged back to the group home, out of the story.

“Oh wow.”

“They adopted all four of us. Gave us the chance to take their name if we wanted, and all four of us did.” His voice swelled with pride. “Those two gave me a direction. Stability. I owe them my life.”

The look in her eyes said it was an experience she couldn’t relate to. He pointed to the chair across from his desk and she took a seat. Khan immediately jumped into her lap. Damn thing was nearly half the size she was.

“What about you? What do you do now?” He sat behind his desk, hoping that if he got her talking it would help her to relax. And eventually get her to admit to whatever had brought her through San Antonio Security’s doors.

“Software design and programming.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but she was stiff.

“That’s great. You always did love computers.”

She fell into silence, not saying anything else about her work. But the hand that stroked Khan was unsteady.

He shifted some papers over so he could lean toward her. “Claire, I’m real glad you’re here, and you’re always welcome to visit... But I get the feeling you’re not here to catch up on old times.”

She slowly lifted her head, her throat rolling with a swallow. He wanted to leap over the desk and pull her into his arms. Promise her that everything would be okay, that he would help now like he’d tried to help then.

But she looked so fragile, like the slightest touch might break her.

He kept his tone gentle. “You have scratches. A bruise on your cheek.”

“I-I was mugged.”

“Do you know who did it?” He grabbed a pad of paper so he could write down details, ignoring the fury pooling in his gut at the thought of someone hurting her.

“No, I...” Avoiding his gaze, she licked her lips. “It’s been rough lately. I-I kind of started hanging out with the wrong people. I think it has something to do with them. And the guys who mugged me know where I live.”

He waited, knowing this wasn’t the whole story, but she didn’t say anything else. Claire was hiding something, the truth buried in details she wasn’t telling.

Not that he needed the full story. Not yet, anyway. She needed assistance, and hell if he wouldn’t do anything he could.

“How can I help, Kitten?”

He hadn’t meant to call her by that old nickname—didn’t even know if she would remember it—but its escape from his lips had been natural.

Claire wrapped her arms around Khan, peering out at Luke from over the protective creature’s head. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I can’t go home. The men who mugged me took all my credit cards and some of my cash.”

Luke kept his features carefully blank. Muggers stealing credit cards and leaving cash behind was highly unusual. It was yet another sign that Claire hid something, but he wouldn’t press for more. Not yet.

Not when she looked like she was going to shatter at any moment.

“When was the last time you got some sleep?”

“I’m not sure.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “A few nights... I didn’t know where to go.”

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