Page 185 of Brutal Collateral

Ace gently taps her head, her neck, and her shoulders as they silently communicate. Christ, she got incredibly lucky. She’s a fucking black cat with nine lives.

The sound of heavy footsteps pulls my gaze away from my wife, and I nearly lose it seeing Connor and Shane storm into the yard, guns drawn, their faces tight with concern.

“Jesus Christ,” Connor mutters, his eyes darting from the broken window above to the bloodied mess that is Miller. “What the hell happened?”

Shane looks up and frowns at the broken window panes from my office and back to the shattered glass all around us. “I moved all the camera footage to an external drive to review later. It’s off your server, and I put an added firewall in case the CVMs try to hack it.”

“Shane, what about those files?” I mutter, hating my concern is stretched between that and my wife.

“I found them. Corrupted them and ghosted the IP. We’re good.” Shane breathes heavily.

“What was Miller looking for?” Connor asks.

“I don’t know, but Kai’s been sending me shit about the project, copying me on emails to sub-contractors that I’m sure wasn’t flattering, or legal-sounding.”

“Rand Miller is supposed to be in rehab,” Shane says.

“Looks like he’s going to the morgue,” Connor sneers. “Did you shoot him, Griff?

Shaking my head, I bite my lip. “Ava had him against the window, and I shot the glass out hoping he’d fall out alone. But he, he...”

The vision of her going out the window still plays in my head in slow motion. Next, I’m vomiting. Spitting it all out, I glance over at Ava, who’s sitting up.

Fuck, that’s a good sign.

“It’s okay.” Connor rubs my back. “But if this asshole lives, we’re fucked. It doesn’t matter that he broke in. You want me to finish him off?”

“No!”

Ava was trying to make it look like a suicide, I’m sure of it. I get to my feet, watching Ace touch my wife, who’s now taking small steps on the other side of the yard.

“Shane, unload all that crap about Miller anyway. His father’s announcement today makes a suicide motive completely plausible. Figure out a way to stage a fall somewhere else. And make sure that fucking cult knows it.”

“On it,” he says and walks back into the house.

“Call Trace,” I say to Connor. “Give him the details. He’ll know what to do.”

“Boss, glaciers are on their way to repair the window and clean the glass.” Zeke touches my face. “Want Ace to check you out, next?”

“No.” I hustle over to the patio table and kneel in front of Ava, who’s sitting again. “Ace, check on Miller.” When he walks away, I gently grasp my wife’s ice-cold hand. “How do you feel, siren?”

Cringing, she says, “I’m sore. But I’m okay.”

Ace comes back, his face grim. Miller is unconscious and probably won’t make it. He got what he deserved. I hope he felt that fall for what he did to my wife.

I hold Ava close, careful not to crush her chest.

She speaks in a hoarse voice. “You’re bleeding.”

“You fell out of a window.” My eyes scan her chest and blinking, I run a finger along her collarbone. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She touches her neck. “Norah’s chain. It’s gone. He grabbed it.”

I watch her almost fall apart. She chose not to wear her engagement ring out of stubbornness. But I gave her my sister’s chain, and Ava never took it off. That gesture makes Miller trying to kill her with the fall meant for him my fault.

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