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Jake watchedDana walk out the door, the note and dog tags heavy in his hand as he wondered, yet again, what his troubles had cost her.

He sat on her bed for a long time, fighting every instinct to chase after her. Of course, that’s exactly what she’d asked him not to do. She’d finally answered his question, admitting what he’d hoped all along. She wanted to be with him, but she needed a partner, not the over-protective Alpha-hole he tended to be.

The way she’d claimed responsibility for her choices made him admire her even more—even if it did little to absolve him of his guilt. Her choices were her own, but Jake knew he had a role in bringing her down this dangerous path. He’d devoted his life to the philosophy: protect and serve. Accepting he couldn’t do that for the woman he loved was intolerable.

Still, he knew Dana was right. Jake wanted to respect that, but he didn’t know how to deal with being sidelined like this.

Normally, he would bury himself in work when his personal life got too complicated, but now even that wasn’t an option. He stared down at the note, now crumpled next to him on the bed. It glared back, a yellow reminder, warning him to stop putting off the inevitable.

He’d call, but not until he was ready.

Jake slipped his dog tags around his neck, then stood, shoving the note in his pocket before walking down the hall to check on Claire. Right now, she was the only one he could help.

The door was ajar, just as he’d left it. He knocked before pushing his way into the room. Claire still lay on her side, staring into nothingness. Jake pulled up a chair and sat down, hoping she could sense his presence from whatever far corner of her mind she’d retreated to.

He regretted his earlier actions. She needed his support, not accusations. It wasn’t clear what was going on with Claire, but if he was going to find out, he needed to gain her trust again.

Claire didn’t trust easily. Jake had known that from the moment he’d met her. Like most individuals of immense intellect, she appeared shy and awkward at first, but Jake had pushed past that to the fiercely loyal, brilliant, hilarious girl beneath her many layers of gothic attire.

She’d let him in—as much as Claire let anyone in—and Jake hadn’t taken that lightly. That’s why this was so difficult. Seeing her like this now … it was as if with a push of a button, that girl he’d known had been erased.

The parallels to Jake’s mother were eerily similar.

She too was someone he couldn’t hold on to no matter how hard he tried. Every time he reached for her in the abyss behind her eyes, she slipped further away. Jake was tired of watching the people he loved disappear right in front of him. His mother, Ramirez, countless others he’d served alongside … he couldn’t bear to lose Claire, too.

For a while longer he watched Claire. The steady rise and fall of her breathing tried to fool him into thinking she was just sleeping. But her eyes remained wide open—staring at him and at nothing all at once.

Standing, Jake walked over to the bed. He rested his hand on Claire’s shoulder, expecting the flinch that normally came from unsolicited contact, but she remained completely still. If she was still in there, she was buried deep.

He suddenly wished he knew more about her—her family, childhood, fears—anything to help him reach her. Jake knew the basics: only child, grew up on the west coast, estranged from her parents. In many ways, Claire and Dana had been cut from the same cloth. Both genius outsiders, trying to shine light into the darkness to make up for the lonely hand life had dealt them.

Neither woman liked talking about their pasts. But Jake couldn’t fault them. He preferred to keep the past where it belonged, too. Speaking of, Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was time to make the call he’d been putting off.

Before he left the room, he gave Claire’s shoulder one last squeeze. “I know you’re still in there, Elvira. I’m not going anywhere, so you find your way back here, and we’ll figure this out together.”