“Fuck, she’s right, bro. It makes sense,” Milo said in Ethan’s ear. “You’d best get out while you can.”

“That’s not an option,” he declared. No way in hell was Ethan going to leave Mari and Jen there with the sharks. “We’ve got him running scared, which means there’s more to find. We missed something.”

“He’s right.” The calm, female voice on the other end of the com startled him a moment. It wasn’t upbeat and high like Zoey. Silky, deep and almost…seductive. “Quillery and I are tagging in, Z. We’ll coordinate with Tex, but we’ve brought Hera online.”

“Who’s Hera?” Milo asked.

“Not a who, a what. H-E-R-A. An acronym. HERA. That’s the system they designed. Think big brother with a brain and badass gadgets,” Zoey said. “It can do just about anything in a nanosecond.”

Ethan didn’t give a damn if they resurrected the goddess Hera herself as long as they got some freaking answers. He shifted restlessly in is chair as Detective Higgins entered the room.

“Don’t say anything,” Jen advised. “I’ll handle it from here. They aren’t messing with either of you, or anyone else.”

“We’re bringing Tex onto the com,” another female voice said. “He’s got full access to HERA. Z, we need you online to help Cord and Jacob close our gaps.”

“Objective?” Zoey asked.

“Data. We’re pulling all security footage we can get our hands on for the past seventy-two hours. South and East Austin.”

“Okay, Quillery. Which areas?” Zoey asked.

“I just told you. South and East Austin.”

“All of South and East Austin,” Edge clarified. “If it’s a camera and it recorded something, we’re taking the footage.”

“And then?” Tex asked.

“Then we tag HERA in,” Quillery said. “Okay, good news is there were government drones flying overhead. The bad news is there were government drones flying overhead. This’ll take time, less than normal with Tex helping, but it’ll take time.”

“I’ve got someone else we can pull in,” Tex offered.

“We’re good,” Edge said. “Three of us, three on our backs handling security and cleaning our trail. Anymore and it could get dicey.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Tex said. “Keep them chasing their tail, Gemini.”

Ethan smiled as the detective sat down. He shoved the picture back in front of Mari, who recoiled like it was a rattlesnake. A growl rose from Ethan’s throat.

“Where were you yesterday evening, around nine?” Detective Higgins asked.

“Hank’s,” Jen said, smoothly and silkily. She leaned back in her chair. “I believe there was a verbal altercation between my client and an officer occurring at the time.”

“Roger Westerman,” Mari supplied. “We were discussing my grievous inability to be a good wife and take the beatings my ex-husband, Detective Chester Rollins, gave me during our marriage for the slightest infractions, such as being unable to read his mind. And not accepting his decision to cheat. I’m sure there was more we discussed, but that’s what I recall.”

Ethan chuckled. Jen glowered at him.

“I’ll need a full list of your personnel, Mr. Davenport.”

“On what grounds?” Jen asked.

“Your organization is gathering a reputation, Ms. Davenport. One where everyone knows Counterstrike will do anything and everything needed to keep its clients safe.”

“And you think that includes murder,” Ethan said.

“Does it?”

Ethan shrugged. “A man hurts a woman, he deserves whatever justice gets meted.”

“Shut it,” Jen whisper-shouted.

The detective smiled smugly. “You and your brother have quite the service record. It’s a shame you mucked all that up by opening up Counterstrike and hiring mercenaries to work for you. Do you even bother running background checks on your employees any longer? I understand you have more than one convicted felon working for you.”

“That’s right,” Ethan said, a measure of pride in his voice. “I’d crawl through the bowels of hell for both of them, and everyone on my team for that matter. Can you say the same about those you work with, Detective? Do you think Detective Rollins would do that for you?”

“This isn’t about Detective Rollins,” the man said.

“And here I thought you had a brain of your own to use,” Ethan said.

“What part of I’ll handle this did you not understand?” Jen asked.

“This is rather simple. Turn over your employee roster, and we’ll go from there,” the man said.

“That’s not happening without a warrant.”

“Easy enough,” the man said smugly.

“A federal one,” Edge said in Ethan’s ear.

“Come again,” he said.

“HERA is classified. It’s considered a potential threat to national security if it falls into the wrong hands. A federal warrant will be needed to touch any and all Counterstrike assets and locations as long as the systems we just installed are in place. One flip of the switch and you have full access to an intelligence system every alphabet agency in the world is trying to get,” Quillery said. “Some local yokel with his hands down his jammies isn’t authorized to mess with you.”

Holy shit.

Tex whistled. “Well, I didn’t see that one coming.”

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I called Bob. He’s gonna sort the whole not-authorized-for-a-warrant thing,” Quillery said.

“Bob?” Milo asked.

“Don’t ask. You don’t want to know,” Zoey replied. “Just roll with it, Gemini. It’s the only way to survive the Quillery Edge.”

Ethan hadn’t seen the price tag for the security system they’d installed, but it had just paid for itself ten times over. Yet another debt owed to Nolan Mason.

And Tex.

“I guess we’re done talking until you get that warrant, Detective.” A warrant he was definitely not getting anytime soon if what Edge and Quillery said was true.

“I’ll be back soon. You may as well go ahead and make the list,” the man suggested as he rose. “We’ve got more than one judge on speed dial.”

“I’m sure you do,” Ethan said, his tone as mocking and condescending as he could make it.

“Enough,” Jen growled when the man left. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” he said, taking a certain amount of amusement in being one-up on Jen about anything legal for the first time in…well, forever. He wrapped an arm around Mari and whispered, “It’s going to be okay. They can’t touch us.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Tex, Zoey, and everyone else is working on getting data right now. Nitro’s already hitting the streets to gather information. No one gets answers easier than him, not even Tex. Whatever happened, we’ll know soon enough. Until then, you aren’t alone. We aren’t going anywhere. None of us are.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t ever thank me for doing what everyone should have done a long time ago, Mari. Your ex never should’ve gotten the chance to mess with you just because he’s a cop. He may be the law, but that doesn’t make him above it.”

Mari had been through enough.

“Internal Affairs and the Texas Rangers have been apprised of current events,” Milo said.

Thank fuck. Ethan didn’t give a damn who took Chester and his cronies down as long as they went down. Hard. He’d been on teams too long to give a damn about being the one to do the deed. The end result was all that mattered.

Which was why Ethan leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and waited when the detective returned to the room.

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” Detective Higgins asked. “Who are your employees and where were they at nine the evening in question?”

Ethan grinned.

“The sooner you cooperate, the better. I realize Ms. Santos is not responsible for what happened. Give me what I need and she can leave.”

Right. Like Ethan would let her leave the station without protection. He deepened the grin and hoped to hell the magical Bob—whoever the fuck he was—had the clout Quillery thought he did. Otherwise it was going to be a very long, boring night for them all.

It didn’t matter either way, though, because as long as the detective was focused on getting answers from Ethan, everyone else could keep digging and get the answers they needed to once and for all put a nail on Chester’s coffin.

It looked like they’d be taking a lot more people than just Chester down, though. There had to have been quite a few people involved to manipulate the situation enough to implicate Counterstrike in anything, especially a murder. Sure, they hadn’t outright accused anyone of anything.

They hadn’t even admitted the asshole who’d hurt Mari was dead.

“Jessica just confirmed he’s in the county morgue awaiting autopsy,” Milo said. “He was a low-level runner for the SouthSiders. Nitro’s working his contacts to get intel.”

A small part of Ethan wanted to order Nitro back, make him lie low until the dust cleared. But standing between the bad guys and the people Counterstrike protected was what they’d all signed on to do. He couldn’t order anyone back, not when they were just as invested in the situation as he was.

He looked over at the beautiful woman next to him and sighed. No one was as invested as Ethan when it came to Mari. There was no denying he was attracted to her. She was his to protect and care for. Call it mancave Alpha dog assholedness, or whatever. Ethan didn’t give a damn.

Mari was his. He’d give her as much time as she needed to come to the same decision, to accept what he already knew. He was a patient man.

“This isn’t a game, Mr. Davenport. I will get the answers I want, one way or another. The only person’s time you’re wasting here is Marisol’s.”

Ethan leaned forward and settled his elbows on the table. He cleared his throat to speak but caught a flash of suits moving briskly through the corridors leading to the room they’d been escorted into. He chuckled, leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms again.

“Let the games begin,” he replied.

“Detective Higgins, I’m Agent Racquards from Homeland Security. This is Mr. Whit from the Department of Defense. We understand you wish to obtain a search warrant for Counterstrike facilities.”

“That’s right,” Detective Higgins said as he shuffled in his seat. “I’m sorry, but this is a closed investigation. You’ll have to follow the proper chain of command if you wish to assist our investigation.”

Mari choked as the tension within the room struck a new level of weird. Ethan was outright smiling for some reason she couldn’t comprehend. Jen was in full-blown shock and neither of the men in the suits were very pleased with the situation.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand our presence, Detective. Your investigation is done.” Mr. Whit looked at Mari, then at Ethan and Jen. “You three are free to leave with our apologies. I’ve been instructed to handle Detective Higgins from here and redirect his investigation away from matters of national security.”

“National security?” Detective Higgins sputtered the words as he rose and stood in front of the exit. “They’re a nonprofit helping a bunch of women and kids. How is that national security?”

“What Counterstrike is or isn’t in the eyes of Homeland Security and the Department of Defense is above your paygrade, Detective,” Agent Racquards said. “Kindly step away from the door so Ms. Santos and the Davenports may leave.”

“This is ridiculous. I demand to see your credentials immediately. This is not proper protocol.”

“Neither is obtaining search warrants on national security assets without proper authority,” Mr. Whit replied. “We’re done here. Please feel free to leave at any time, Ms. Santos, with our deepest apologies. You won’t be bothered about Samual Rivers’ murder again.”

Samual Rivers. Her nightmare had a name. She nodded and let Ethan steer her from the room. She didn’t pretend to understand what’d just happened. Jen’s high heels tapped a comforting click-clack rhythm along the tiled corridor leading to the exit.

Each step helped Mari breath a bit more.

They were leaving. Truly leaving.

But how?

“Just keep walking, one foot in front of the other,” Ethan whispered in her ear.

Cool air rushed across her face when they exited the building. She dragged in deep breaths despite her broken ribs. To hell with the pain. She’d gotten out. Sure, she realized on some higher level she wasn’t ever in any true danger of being arrested just now.

But Ethan was.

Or whoever at Counterstrike they could hit.

All because Chester was making a point.

All because of her.

“I’ve gotta go,” she declared. “This isn’t safe for you, or for your team, or anyone. I’ve gotta go. Leave town, the country, or something. I don’t even have a passport. But I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta disappear.”

“Take a deep breath for me. It’s okay.”

“No. No, it’s not okay. None of what just happened is okay. I don’t even know what just happened.”

“Neither do I, Mari, but we’ll talk it out once we’re away from here and we have you secure,” Jen said, her voice firm. “Let’s go.”

Let’s go. The woman made it sound so simple. Maybe it was in a way. But going never lasted. Getting secure only worked for so long. Then Chester would continue meting out his punishment.

All because she’d wanted a husband who loved her, one who truly cared about her. One who’d hold her close, kiss away her tears when she’d had a bad day and kick anyone’s ass if they messed with her. She’d wanted a man who was strong, brilliant, thoughtful, and protective.

Like Ethan.

The thought shuffled through her brain until it found a place to settle down.

And it did because he was a great man, one she couldn’t deny being attracted to.

The thought flickered through her mind like a butterfly fluttering about for no other reason than to chase away the scary situation sucking the breath from her lungs. Ethan was here. His arms were around her.

He was whispering words she couldn’t hear because she was freaking out, but she wasn’t alone. She dragged in another breath and battled her way through the fear.

For Ethan.

He’d put his ass on the line for her.

She wouldn’t turn wuss on him outside the police department.

But she needed him to understand why her staying around and letting them help her was no longer an option. She didn’t fully know what had happened just now, but they’d dodged a huge bullet—one aimed directly at Counterstrike.

They were too important to get hurt because of her. The work they did changed lives and saved people. She could endure Chester’s games. Sooner or later he’d find another woman and move on.

The thought doused her with guilt. She couldn’t let anyone else suffer what she’d gone through. No. No one else should have to deal with Chester.

He needed to be stopped.

Which meant she needed to stay and trust that Ethan and everyone else at Counterstrike knew what the hell they were doing.

God, she wished Joseph was there to give her big brotherly wisdom. He always knew what to say. And her parents.

Mari would do just about anything to have her parents hug her, hold her close. Her mom’s chocolate chip cookies would make her feel better.

“What’s going through your mind? Offload it, Mari. You aren’t alone.”

“I was just wishing my brother was here to give me some advice. I’m terrified, Ethan. I want to run because I don’t want you or anyone at Counterstrike hurt by him and all this, but I know if I get away he’ll put someone else through this. And that’s not fair.” She spewed the truth out so fast the words jumbled together in the end. “AndImissmymom’schocolatechipcookies.”

Before she could second guess the decision, she wrapped her arms around Ethan, rested her head on his chest, and let the tears fall. To hell with being strong.

“Ethan,” Jen whispered.

“Get the car. I’ve got her,” he instructed. “It’s okay, Mari. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay. I swear to Christ I’ll make it all okay.”