Transfer

by Aly Martinez

  But it had all been a lie.

  He was a DEA agent trying to make his case, and I was left to mourn a good man who had never even existed.

  It was too much.

  “Get out,” I ordered, keeping my eyes anchored to the pale-yellow hospital room wall.

  “Let me explain,” he replied, but I couldn’t stomach being fed any more bullshit.

  God knows Walt had filled me with enough over the years. I sure as hell wasn’t volunteering to take it from someone else.

  “I’m not interested in any explanation, Heath.” I seethed his name as though it said everything. And, in some ways, it did.

  “Clare,” he called, his voice so kind and familiar that it shattered me even further.

  Luke was gone even as he stood directly in front of me.

  As a silent sob ricocheted in my chest, I wrapped my arms around Tessa and squeezed her tight. “Are…are you here to arrest me?” I stuttered.

  He pushed to his feet and took a step toward me, but when I scooted away from him, he froze. His baby-blue eyes turned angry, and his hands fisted so hard at his sides that the veins on his tan forearms bulged.

  “No,” he stated firmly.

  “Then leave.”

  I didn’t believe him. I’d confessed to Luke every one of my deepest, darkest secrets the day the cops had shown up at the gym. He knew all about the blood on my hands and the sludge Walt had all but smothered me in. There was no way Heath could turn a blind eye to that. He was going to arrest me, and I was going to lose Tessa once and for all.

  “Oh my God,” I choked.

  Days earlier, I’d been ready to let her go if it meant getting her someplace safe. I’d ripped my heart out with goodbyes to her every night since I’d mailed our DNA to Roman. But the moment Heath had lifted me into his arms, I’d dared to hope that I could keep her.

  He had come for me.

  And, now, he was going to take her away.

  “I thought I could trust you,” I accused, dropping my chin to my hollow chest to kiss the top of her head. “Will you at least tell me how much longer I have with her?”

  “Clare, look at me,” he ordered.

  My vision swam as I lifted my gaze to his.

  His shoulders were square, and his tall body pulsed with anger, but his voice remained gentle. “You can trust me. It’s still me, Clare. You know who I am.”

  I adamantly shook my head. “No. I know Luke Cosgrove.”

  “Different name. Same person,” he growled.

  “No!” I seethed on a whisper. “You’re a cop who manipulated me to get shit on Walt. And I’d personally like to express my thanks in that matter. Honestly, if you’d told me the truth, I would have spent my days spilling every detail about him rather than staring at your abs. But, just so we’re clear, you are not the same person as Luke.”

  His face lit. “No. I’m better than Luke.” He grinned.

  Grinned.

  Like a huge, gleaming-white, butterfly-inducing grin.

  I was about to lose my daughter and spend the rest of my life in a jail cell, and he was grinning.

  “You’re an asshole,” I snapped.

  “Nope. I’m not that, either.” He bent over, propping himself on two fists at the foot of the bed.

  I curled my legs to avoid touching him. Though a part of me still ached to climb from the bed, with Tessa in my arms, and cling to his neck—to Luke’s neck.

  This guy though…

  “I’m not Luke. And thank fucking God for that. I’m Agent Heath Light, and I’m going to make sure no one ever touches you or that little girl again. Luke Cosgrove was a bitch who couldn’t do one fucking thing to help you except take a daily inventory of whatever bruises you came in with and whatever trivial fact you let slip about your home life. I, on the other hand, will use every fucking resource I possess in order to secure your safety. Even if that means raining down the entire federal government on that piece-of-shit husband of yours. So, no, I’m not your fucking personal trainer, but I am your friend. And you can trust me when I say no one is going to arrest you, nor are they going to take Tessa. Not the cops. Not the DEA. And sure as fuck not Walter Noir.” He pushed himself upright and moved back to the chair. Then he slowly sank down, his eyes locked on mine. Once he got settled with his legs crossed ankle to knee, he finished with, “Questions?”

  It sounded good, but if I’d learned anything by marrying Walt, it was that too good to be true was often just that.

  “You’re a liar.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I am?”

  “Yes. You are!” I sat up, taking Tessa with me. She was knocked out, and her sleeping body folded to the side, her weight sending her toward the floor.

  He lurched from the chair, his arms extended to catch her, but I caught her and dragged her back onto my chest first.

  “Don’t you touch her!”

  His eyes narrowed, and he ran a hand through his thick, blond hair. “Don’t touch her?” he asked in utter disbelief.

  I didn’t reply. He might have been the only man I’d ever trusted to touch her. Or at least Luke was.

  “Don’t touch her?” he repeated incredulously.

  “You played me for months.”

  He nodded multiple times, his scruff-covered jaw ticking as he struggled to keep his composure. “I sure did,” he replied, cracking his neck. “But I did it for you.” He tipped his chin at Tessa. “For her. The man you met that first day at the gym was a lie. I’ll admit that. But the person you got every single day after that was me.” He stabbed a thumb at his chest before pointing a finger at me. “And the woman you gave me was not the fraud you put on for everyone else. It was you, Clare Cornwell.”

  I sucked in a deep breath at the use of my maiden name.

  He wasn’t wrong. I had given that to him. He was the only person I’d felt comfortable enough with to be myself around. I hadn’t understood it then, but I’d felt it all the same.

  “Luke,” I whispered.

  “Heath,” he corrected. “It’s still me, Clare. Your favorite color is green, like Tessa’s eyes. It took approximately two weeks before it became my favorite color, too.”

  Oh my God. My heart stopped.

  “Your favorite hobby is gardening, and I wished like hell every day that I could take you outside and just watch you lose yourself in a pile of dirt and an endless supply of flowers.”

  “Heath,” I sighed.

  “Your favorite food is pizza, and you could wax poetic for hours about what toppings you were planning for your monthly cheat day. I used to fake a laugh and urge you to stick to your meal plan, but it took every ounce of restraint I had not to start sneaking pizza into the gym and forcing you to actually eat. You’re too thin, Clare. And, for fuck’s sake, everyone deserves pizza more than once a month.”

  A strangled laugh bubbled up my throat, and a sad, but very real Luke Cosgrove smile split his mouth. Or maybe that grin had always belonged to Heath Light. I couldn’t be sure.

  He took a cautious step toward me, and this time, my heart raced for a different reason.

  “I get it,” he said. “You’ve had total shit dished out to you by men. But those men are not me. Look at me, Clare. You know who I am. You know you can trust me. I was pulled off your case the day Walter saw you in my office. Yet, today, I risked my job to get to you. That had not one thing to do with the investigation and everything to do with you. And I would do it a million times over as long as it got you here. Right now. With me. And I’m gonna take care of you both.” He nodded to Tessa. “I give you my word, regardless of how I have to make it happen, that life is over for you.” He inched even closer until he was looming over me. His hands were still at his sides, but his proximity was possessive—and not in a scary way.

  No, the way Heath’s warmth wrapped around me sent a shiver down my spine at the same time it drained the fear from my tense body.

  “Walt…he always told me the cops would arrest me if they knew what I’d
done for him. And I told you everything.”

  “No one is here to arrest you. Especially not me. We all know you’re an innocent in Noir’s bullshit.”

  I could do nothing but stare. Had I woken up in an alternate dimension where criminals were issued sentries for protection rather than orange jumpsuits and public defenders?

  “Do you believe that?” I asked. Initially, I hadn’t understood why it mattered to me what Heath believed. But it did. So much. I wasn’t a criminal, and I needed him to know that.

  He replied immediately. “Probably more than you do right now.”

  “Are you sure?” I squeaked.

  He grinned again. “I was sure of that within the first week of getting to know you.”

  I tried to laugh, but it came out as a cry. “Does your boss know you’re making these promises?”

  “He will. We’re taking Walter down. And guess what? You’re going to help us.”

  My eyes flashed wide as bile rolled in my stomach. “I…I—” I stammered.

  “And I’m going to be there to help you. The whole way. Every step. Every day. Whatever you need. I’m there.”

  My heart soared as his blanket of warmth wrapped around me even tighter.

  I still wasn’t positive I could completely trust him, but I knew with my whole heart I was going to try.

  “Yeah?” he prompted, his blue eyes holding me captive.

  “Yeah,” I agreed breathily.

  He smiled. “Okay. Now. What do you need right now?”

  A new life where you walked into my diner before Walt.

  “Can I have a hug?” I asked, using my shoulder to wipe my tears away.

  “You can have whatever you want from me, Clare. But you’re gonna have to come take it.” He bent at the waist, over the bed, offering me his upper body without really offering me a hug.

  But it was more than anyone had given me in as long as I could remember, so without hesitation, I took it.

  Rising to my knees, with Tessa held to my chest, I hooked an arm around his neck and shoved my face against his throat. His arms instantly folded around us both as he squeezed me, Tessa tucked between us.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered, not sure what else to say.

  “I’ve got you.” He nuzzled his jaw against the side of my face. “I swear on my life I’ve got you.”

  After I insisted she try to get some rest, Clare insisted I move my chair next to her bed. I didn’t argue. Sleep wasn’t going to find me that night, but having them within my arms’ reach would do wonders for my ability to relax.

  It was well past three when her breathing finally evened out while she clung to my forearm.

  I’d blown off nearly a dozen calls and texts—and even more than that if I included those from Roman. As much as it killed me to leave her alone for even a few minutes, I needed to get caught up on what the hell was going on with Walter as well as figure out what the hell was going to happen when Clare and Tessa were released. They needed to be taken into protective custody, and I needed to make it clear that I was going with them.

  She stirred only the slightest bit when I inched my arm out from under her hand. Very quietly, I snuck out of the room, my phone already poised at my ear. It was rendered useless when I found eight men waiting in the hall, all of them coming alert with the click of the door.

  “Light,” my lieutenant, Mark Tomlinson, called, stepping toward me.

  My fellow agent and close friend, Shane McIntyre, was right behind him.

  “Heath,” Roman said, scrambling up from the tile floor next to the door. A huge guy with dark hair I’d never seen before loomed beside him.

  “Agent Light,” Rorke called, two of his uniformed henchmen closing in from the right.

  “You.” I pointed my finger at Rorke. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “Light,” Tomlinson warned. “They’re local.”

  I kept my gaze glued on the overweight detective as I shot back at my boss, “They sure as hell are. They’re also the reason Atwood is in the ground. I don’t want them anywhere near her.”

  “We had nothing to do with one of your boys getting dead,” a uniform started. “Maybe you—”

  He was quickly—and wisely—silenced by Rorke.

  “Marco, enough!” Rorke jacked his pants up and straightened his tie. “We were just hoping to question Clare and offer whatever protection we could until Noir is taken into custody.”

  I must have missed the memo that Hell had frozen over.

  “Unless you’ve showed up here today with irrefutable proof that your mole is in custody, you can fuck off.”

  Tomlinson started cussing under his breath. But I had nothing to gain by being respectful to Rorke or any of the APD. Yet, with Clare and Tessa on the other side of the door, I had everything to lose.

  I stood my ground, my body swelling as I swung my gaze through the men surrounding me. “No one gets near her without my permission,” I declared. “And, in case I haven’t been clear enough, Rorke, your boys will never get that. I highly suggest you find the fucking door and utilize it. We’ve got it from here.” I turned my attention back to Tomlinson.

  He was young for his position in the Administration, but he’d more than earned every single one of his promotions. The man was well respected—especially by me. And, as far as I knew, the feeling was mutual.

  “You gonna back me up here?” I asked him.

  He rested a hand on his hip and used his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. “It’s politics, Light. We can’t just—”

  “You have got to be shitting me.” I swept a finger in Rorke’s direction. “Not even a month ago, someone in his department hung Atwood out to dry. He was days away from being inducted into Noir’s army, and within hours of his identity being released to the Atlanta Police Department, he was found with a bullet in the back of his brain. Politics have no place in this anymore.”

  His gaze turned hard as he took an authoritative step toward me and lowered his voice. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you and that woman, but you are not thinking straight. Do not make more enemies for us. Jesus Christ, it’s gonna take me a fucking year to bury the surveillance footage of you storming Noir’s gate.”

  I shrugged arrogantly. “Not my problem. I warned you to turn it off. Besides, I showed up there, witnessed that asshole putting his hands on her. If that’s not probable cause to enter his residence, I don’t know what is.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t bullshit me. You should have waited for backup.”

  I laughed humorlessly. “Wait? You wanted me to fucking standby while he killed the key witness in our investigation?” The woman who has worked her way so fucking deep under my skin that I can’t even remember what it felt like not to have her there anymore. I kept that to myself.

  A symphony of questions fired from multiple directions, all of which were along the lines of, “She’s going to testify against him?”

  I angled forward and arrogantly whispered, “She is now.”

  Tomlinson’s eyes nearly bulged from his head, and his whole body stiffened.

  I tilted my head toward Rorke in a silent demand.

  His eyes stayed glued to mine as he announced, “Rorke, you and your men are officially released from this investigation. The DEA appreciates your support in the matter, but we will be handling the Noir case from here on out.”

  “You cannot be serious,” Rorke groaned.

  Tomlinson finished with, “Please turn over any and all case files by end of day tomorrow.”

  “This is ludicrous. You don’t have the resources to handle this kind of operation without the aid of the APD,” Rorke continued to protest, but McIntyre began herding him and his men toward the elevator.

  Once the doors had slid closed behind them, Tomlinson’s body sagged and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s right, I absolutely do not have the resources to handle this, Light. So I’m gonna need you to get in there and find out exactly what she’s
got on Noir that I can use as leverage to get additional manpower and funding.”

  “I can do that,” I replied. “But, first, I want your word that we’re taking her and the girl into protective custody. And, in doing that, you’re also going to assign me as her number one.”

  He scoffed and shook his head. “No. No fucking way. After your bullshit today, it’s obvious you are way too attached to this one.”

  If he thought scaling the fortress wall was bad, he didn’t even know the half of it. If he had any idea how I really felt about her, I’d be not only off the case, but also out of a job before I could even explain—assuming I could think of an explanation.

  My only saving grace was that no one, not even Clare, knew how I felt about her. And it was one secret I’d take to my grave.

  “Too involved?” I asked incredulously. “You sent me in to gain her trust and get her talking. I did both—and took it two steps further by bringing her in and convincing her to testify. You think a shattered woman like that is gonna be real keen to put her life on the line after you take away the only badge she’s ever trusted?” Not even to mention the hell I was going to cause if they tried to take her away from me.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t approve it,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  “I’m not thinking you have a choice.”

  “Well, I’m thinking, if she wants protective custody for her and her daughter, she’s gonna find a way to get on without you.”

  My blood began to boil at a nearly explosive temperature, but before I had the chance to utter a word, Roman joined the conversation.

  “Come again?” he said, closing in on Tomlinson. “You’re going to deny her protection if she insists on staying with Heath?”

  “I didn’t—” Tomlinson started.

  Roman boomed, “That woman has been through hell without you manipulating her in exchange for her safety!”

  “Stay out of this, Leblanc,” Tomlinson ordered. “You have no idea—”