Page 14 of Protected from Malice (Blade and Arrow Shadow Team #1)

RAFE

“Are you sure you want to be in on this call, Eden?”

As Eden looks up from her phone, her eyebrows arching up in a questioning V, I add, “If you want to lie down, try to take a nap or something, I can fill you in later.”

She sets her phone down on the bed and turns towards me. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s about me, isn’t it?”

It’s a fair question.

I’m just not sure she’d like my answer.

Of course she can join in on my conference call with Cole and Dante. She has more right to be a part of it than anyone.

But if it were up to me, she wouldn't. Not after everything she’s been through already.

If it were up to me, Eden wouldn’t be exposed to any more stress than absolutely necessary. And having her sit through a call while we discuss the details of her case doesn’t seem necessary to me.

She’s already been through it. Lived it. Does she really need to hash it out again?

And selfishly, I don’t want to watch her relive it.

I don’t want to watch her cry and not be able to stop it.

I don’t want to see her in pain.

Strike that. She’s already hurting. Already traumatized. Already frightened. And the reality of it is so much worse than I imagined.

I had my suspicions that something else happened to her, something bad, but this ?

Not Eden.

The very thought of it makes me want to howl in anger. Break everything in the room. Put my fist through the wall. Use every contact I’ve made to track down that fucker and kill him.

Fuck . Not sweet, brilliant, beautiful Eden who never has an unkind word to say about anyone.

Who’s dedicated her life to researching life-saving treatments so other people won’t lose their beloved family members, like Eden and Indy did.

Who worked tirelessly to help her brother on top of all that?—

Shit. When she was in Germany, after Indy was injured, it had only been months since she was attacked. She’d still been dealing with her own horrible trauma, and I had no fucking idea. Everyone was so impressed by her strength, but if they’d only known…

I would have done something. I would have made more time for her. I would have stayed in Germany longer instead of heading back to the States with the rest of the team. Or I would have flown straight to Portland to meet with the police and demand they take action.

I could have called on Blade and Arrow to help. We could have scoured the apartment complex for surveillance footage. Searched the parking lot for some clue the police missed. Interrogated everyone Eden knew in case one of them was involved.

But now it’s two years later, and I know damn well any videos or potential evidence is gone.

Two years that Eden’s been suffering on her own. Yes, she said she’s seen a counselor. But that’s not the same as having people who love?—

Dammit.

“Rafe?” Eden gets off the bed and heads over to the window to join me. Once she reaches my side, she touches my arm and looks up at me with a worried gaze. “Am I not allowed? Do you think they’ll say no, and that’s why you don’t want me on the call?”

“No, that’s not it.”

As I look at her reflection in the window, alarm rushes through me.

She’s too visible. Someone in the building across the way could look up, see Eden’s petite figure standing beside me, identify her with high-powered binoculars…

Or a scope.

Shit. I should have closed the blinds already.

Taking her hand, I lead her away from the window; away from the potential sniper that somehow found our location and is sitting out there, waiting for the perfect moment to take a shot.

Logic tells me that’s not possible. Not up on the fifth floor of a hotel with over four hundred rooms. Not in a suite that’s registered under another fake ID and paid for with a credit card to match.

And not when I already found the little GPS locator in Eden’s purse and destroyed it, so there’s no way for the fucker who’s after her to track her again.

Dammit, that pisses me off. Before we left the last hotel, I checked everything Eden had brought with her—luggage, her laptop, her clothes—in an attempt to figure out how the intruder found her.

And that’s when I found it. A tiny GPS tracker glued to the underside of her purse.

So small, you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t specifically looking for it, which I should have done before we even left her house.

Eden wouldn’t have thought to look for it, but I should have.

She was terrified again because I wasn’t doing the thing I came here to do, which was to protect her.

How did the tracker get there? Who knows? It wouldn’t have been hard for someone to do it—just walk by her purse hanging on the back of a chair at a restaurant, jimmy open her locker at the gym, sneak into her office at work…

As I tow Eden into the living room and over to the dining table, she tugs on my hand. “Um. Rafe. Why can’t I look out the window?”

“You can.”

My voice is gruffer than I intended it to be. But now I’m stuck with a new and horrifying image in my mind; one of Eden shot by a sniper, crimson blossoming across her chest as she collapses into my arms, her skin paling as the life drains out of her.

A shudder runs through me.

My gut twists.

“Then why am I all the way over here?” she asks, gesturing at the expanse of room between us and the living room window.

“I just figured we’d sit here for the video call,” I reply after a brief hesitation. “Easier for us both to look at the screen on my laptop.”

Eden stares at me, her eyes narrowing. Her lips thin.

Why didn’t I just tell her the window isn’t safe?

Because I didn’t want to scare her again. That’s why.

But Eden’s far too smart for that. She glances at the window again. Then at the couch set in front of it. Back to the table we’re sitting at. And finally to me. The little color left in her face fades as realization dawns. “You think someone might try to shoot me,” she says flatly. “Right?”

“It’s unlikely,” I hedge, “but it’s possible. With the building across the way…” Hopping up from my chair, I hurry to the window and close the blinds, then flip on a light on my way back to the table to chase away the darkness.

Eden glances back at the window, this time with a little shiver of fear.

She swallows hard. Sets her shoulders. Draws in a deep breath and lifts her chin.

“It’s funny. I always thought it was so interesting, hearing about what you guys could do with a long-range rifle.

Taking a mile-long shot and all that. In theory, it is. But in reality…”

I catch her hand again, wrapping mine around her trembling fingers. “I’m just being overly cautious, Brain. I’m sure there’s no one out there.”

I hope, at least.

As Eden turns her hand over so her palm is flush against mine, my heart jolts.

It’s such a small thing—holding her hand.

But it doesn’t feel small. It feels big. Important. Right .

Except maybe I shouldn’t be touching her without asking for permission first. Just because Eden asked me to hug her and I held her hand before…

I’ve never doubted myself when it comes to women. I’m a take-it-or-leave-it kind of guy. Don’t like my tattoos or my tendency to curse too much? Don’t like my job? Think my heterochromia is weird? I don’t care. Find someone else.

Although most women don’t have a problem with any of those things.

But with Eden, I care about all of it. Glancing at our joined hands, I ask, “Does this bother you?”

“Does it bother you ?” she shoots back.

“No. But I want to make sure?—”

Eden pins me with her sky-blue gaze. “I told you, Rafe. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. Just because…” She sighs, and her shoulders sag. “I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

“I don’t.”

Her brows jump up.

“I don’t,” I repeat more firmly. “You’re still the same Eden. Strong. Smart. Kind.” Beautiful . “But if I told you about something that had profoundly affected me, something that I still struggled with, wouldn’t you want to make sure you didn’t trigger me somehow?”

“ Is there something, Rafe?” Just like the Eden I’ve known for over a decade, she tosses my words back at me. “Because if there is, you could talk to me, too, you know. It goes both ways.”

I know it does. But the secrets I’m hiding paint a picture I don’t want Eden to see.

“There’s nothing,” I reply quickly. And thank fuck, my phone buzzes with a text before she can question me further. I yank it from my pocket and glance at the screen.

“It’s Cole,” I tell her. “He’s ready.”

Grabbing my laptop from the center of the table, I flip it open and type in my password.

Less than a minute later, we’re staring at two video feeds, one of Cole in one of the offices at the Sleepy Hollow branch, the other of Dante sitting in his apartment at the Blade and Arrow Bravo team ranch just outside San Antonio.

Cole gives me a quick chin lift and says, “Hey, Rafe. How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” I reply. “We’re secure at the hotel. So that’s good.” Cutting straight to the chase, I add, “But I’d really like some backup. Indy’s coming, but if we want to dive into the investigation?—”

Dante interrupts me. “Rafe. Give us a chance to at least talk to Eden first. Okay?”

“I sent Cole all the information.” Including the most recent news Eden gave me, which I know she wasn’t crazy about me sharing. But she knows it’s necessary if Blade and Arrow is going to help us.

And they will help. She’s still nervous about it, but I’m not. These guys are my friends. My teammates. My brothers. They would help just because I asked. But the fact that Eden is Indy’s sister means she’s not just a regular client. She’s family.

“And I shared it with Dante,” Cole replies. “Along with Leo and Matt.” He directs his attention to Eden as he explains, “Leo is our tech guy here. And Matt is the computer wizard for the Bravo team. So they can help with the investigation.”

“Matt’s already on it,” Dante adds. He nods at Eden. “Since Rafe isn’t much with manners, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Dante DeLuca. I work at the San Antonio branch.”