Page 12 of Hunter

But it had hit dead center. Too clean. Too precise.

The window was old and thick, probably original to the building, and that was the only reason it hadn’t shattered. If it had been modern, the glass would’ve blown out completely.

And the way she said it… as though she was trying to convince herself.

My gut twisted, low and hard, and I’d learned a long time ago not to ignore that feeling.

But the extra tension crawling under my skin had a different source—and he was standing right next to her.

I let the kid finish the job, but I didn’t like it. Not the way he stood too close or kept trying to catch Sadie’s eye and engage her in conversation.

Annoyed as fuck, I crossed my arms and watched him sweat as he replaced the pane under my heavy stare.

Sadie stayed close but quiet. Every time he lifted his voice to ask a question or made a sudden movement, she shifted closer to me. Just barely. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trained to see it.

But I saw it and loved knowing she already felt safe with me.

By the time the kid packed up and left—without saying a word to me, a smart move—I was already calculating the angles on the building, itching to put up a camera and a better security system.

Just as I finished scanning the perimeter again, the bakery door swung open and Marcy stepped out, wiping her hands on a towel and grinning like she already knew what I was doing.

I’d met her when she’d signed the lease for the bakery, and my assessment of her had been positive. She was easygoing but sharp. The kind of woman who saw more than she let on and was highly amused when people assumed that her jovial disposition meant she was a little airheaded.

“Something wrong, or are you just looking for an excuse to hang around?” she asked, her eyes dancing as she glanced between me and Sadie.

I pointed at the window. “A broken window, no cameras, and a basic alarm. That’s not gonna cut it.”

Marcy followed my gaze, then shrugged. “We didn’t have any issues during the buildout or while I was gearing up for the opening.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t now.”

Her smile faded just a touch. She knew I wasn’t playing games.

“Fair enough.” She nodded slowly, and then her grin came right back. “So…are you offering to fix that because this is Iron Rogue’s property, making it club business? Or because a certain someone makes cookies and blushes like a Disney princess?”

I didn’t answer.

Marcy laughed. “Thought so.”

I leveled a look at her. “We take care of what’s ours. Something happens in Iron Rogues’ territory, we handle it before it becomes a problem.”

That part was true.

But it wasn’t the real reason I was here. I took care of what was mine.

Marcy didn’t argue. She didn't look surprised, either.

Her gaze landed on Sadie—who was practically pressed up against my side—and then back at me.

“You gonna do it now, or do you want me to pretend you’re not already planning to stay all morning?”

“Already on it,” I said, pulling out my phone. I called one of our officers, Midnight, who co-owned Iron Shield, our private security company, and told him what I needed. He didn’t ask questions, which was typical since he had a similar background to mine. Though he’d been a SEAL.

“Be there in fifteen,” he grunted.

True to his word, Midnight rolled in fast, his SUV loaded with gear. As he unloaded it, he offered his help.

“Got it handled,” I replied.

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