Page 90 of Raven's Curse

Greer arched a brow. “You’re sure?”

“Would I lie to you, Greer?”

“Yes. Especially if you were worried about my physical and mental well-being.”

“Rude.” Nick laughed. “True, but still rude. And yeah, it’s over. Between the photos your pal Buck shared, and all the intel my team’s gathered, we’ve confirmed they didn’t contact anyone else.”

Nick cocked his head to the side as he tapped his chin. “I can have one of our satellites do constant sweeps of the town if you’re worried, though. Spy on all of you…”

Foster stepped forward. “I think we’re good. And we’ll all be more vigilant for a while. Just to be safe. Which brings me to our next issue. Are we busting Greer out before or after we eat, because I’m starving.”

Chase groaned. “God, not you, too.”

Foster scoffed. “Please, you were planning on breaking her out, yourself. You’re just pissed she beat you to it. So, let’s eat. Then, we make a run for it.”

Three weeks later…

* * *

“I’m not ready for this.”

Greer paused, her uniform half-buttoned, as she eyed Chase in the mirror. “For your shift to start?”

He crossed his arms. “For yours.”

She sighed, slipped two more buttons through the holes, then turned, leaning against the counter. “We’ve talked about this.”

“And I promised to be honest about how I felt, and this,” he motioned at her, “scares the shit out of me.”

She smiled, crossed over to him, stepping into his arms. “It’s over.”

Chase held her tight, his heart thundering against hers. “We think it’s over, but…”

“No buts. Nick’s had two agents in place for a couple weeks. They’ve confirmed Carver and Hodges were the last people to leave the compound before the leaders issued a lockdown. Started preparing for this massive attack. And based on how Nick phrased a few of his messages, they’re launching their assault any day now, so… We’re clear.”

Chase blew out a rough breath. “And if we’re wrong? If Dalton’s been part of this from the start and is biding his time, waiting for us to get complacent so he can strike?”

“Chase.” She eased back, looked him in the eyes, her heart skipping at the shadows staring back at her. How he’d been when Rhett had first died.

She reached up and brushed some hair off his forehead. She’d ruined any kind of styling when he’d surprised her in the kitchen, and they’d had a quickie bent over the dining room table. “What do you need?”

Chase stilled, eyes wary, breath held before he gestured toward her. “To know you’re safe.”

“And how can we achieve that without me locked in our house?”

His mouth quirked at the use of our house. “I never said we had to lock the doors all the time.”

“Chase…” She mulled it over. “Can you get someone to cover your shifts for a few days?”

“Sure, but… How does that solve the issue?”

“You can ride shotgun. Be my human shield if any crazies show up.”

Chase coughed, hitting his chest a few times before tilting his head. “You’re going to let me ride shotgun? The whole day. Then, again tomorrow, and the day after that?”

“Just like a proper deputy, assuming it’s enough to stop you from crawling out of your skin.”

“But, what about protocol? The mayor? All the reasons you were worried about us pitching in when all this started?”