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“I’m not opposed to seeing that, but if you’re breaking limbs in front of me, I’m going to assume it’s because someone’s trying to hurt me.

Seeing as I’m not extremely excited about that prospect, I’m going to choose to take your word for it.

” Instead of being horrified by my admittedly terrible attempt at pulling her attention away from Dane, Audrey seems amused, her smile holding as she says, “For the record, I would also really love it if you don’t make any sort of bloody messes in here.

I’m pretty sure that would go in my file. ”

I relax a little at her response, feeling like maybe she gets me and my sense of humor. “No bloodshed in the workplace. Got it.”

“I’m not completely nixing the option, I just would really like to avoid it if at all possible.” Audrey steps a little closer to me, her voice barely above a whisper when she says, “You do what you have to do, and I’ll deal with the fallout.”

The more time I spend with Audrey, the more I’m seeing how brave she really is.

How strong. It’s not obvious or blatant like many of the women I work with.

Everything about Audrey is quiet. Understated.

And damned if that doesn’t make me want to protect her even more.

Just so she doesn’t feel like she has to change.

“I know people who’ll deal with the fallout, so you don’t need to worry about that either.” Without realizing it, I’ve got my hands on her again, palms resting high on her shoulders. “You just worry about staying alive.”

The shirt I’m wearing tightens as her hands grip the fabric across my stomach. “That’s what I’ve been doing for the past year, and it’s starting to wear me out.”

I study her face for a second, wondering how accurate her math is. “Only a year?”

Audrey’s eyes drop mine, but not before I see the trace of shame that flashes over them. “No. Not only a year.” She swallows, the delicate line of her throat working through the motion. “It’s been much longer than that.”

“How long?”

I came from a happy family—my parents still have a great relationship—but have dealt with enough shitty people to know abuse is a slow build.

It inches along in forgivable increments until one day you look up and realize they’ve slowly dug you to the bottom of a pit so deep it’s nearly impossible to climb out of.

I want to know how long Audrey was in that pit. Because if I’m ever lucky enough to cross paths with her ex-husband, I’m going to reclaim every inch he sent her sinking.

Unfortunately, I don’t get an answer because Dane’s voice comes blaring through my earpiece and Audrey’s.

“Hey, Aud. I’ve got a guy up here who says he scheduled an interview with you for this morning.”

Audrey’s brows pinch together as she activates her microphone. “I don’t have any interviews scheduled for today. Is he sure it’s this location?”

I move to the line of monitors Audrey turned on when we first arrived.

Scanning the displays, I find where Dane is standing just inside the doors he opened only seconds ago.

What I see has me grabbing Audrey as she starts in that direction.

I drag her deeper into her office and close the door, locking us in.

“It’s the guy who came to your apartment this morning.” I point to where he stands on the surveillance screen. “Are you sure you don’t recognize him?”

It was the first question I’d asked her when we reviewed the footage. At the time, she was confident she’d never seen him before, or if she had, didn’t remember it.

I was hoping Intel would identify him before our paths crossed again, but facial recognition software takes a long fucking time to come back with a list of possible identities, and this guy seems to be on a tight schedule.

Audrey’s skin goes pale as she stares at the screen. “Why is he here?”

“You’re sure he’s never been here before?”

“Positive.” Audrey reaches for me, her hand gripping mine. “Is he here to kill me?”

I tug her against me, wrapping both arms around her shaking body. “If he is, I’m going to apologize in advance, because he’s about to end up a little bit of everywhere.”

And I feel bad about it. Not about killing the guy—that doesn’t fucking bother me—but about the possibility killing him could make Audrey’s life more difficult.

The whole store will have to basically be cleared out.

Mountains of merchandise will have to be trashed.

The two employees that are here will likely be traumatized enough she’ll have to replace them.

“You stay here.” I pull my weapon from the holster hidden in my waistband, checking it before putting it back in place. “I’m going to talk to him.”

Audrey’s fingers grip tight, holding on till her knuckles turn white. “What if he’s not here to kill me?”

That question makes me pause. “What else would he be here for?”

The reason Audrey reached out for help was because she was afraid for her life.

Worried her ex-husband would try to make her disappear, or at the very least cause her bodily harm.

I want to believe she’s simply trying to calm herself down and off the edge by hoping this is something it isn’t, but the way she asked seems off.

Audrey presses her lips together, breaths coming quickly as her eyes move between mine. “There’s something I probably should have told you.”

“Audrey? Are you coming up?” Dane interrupts again

Fucking Dane. I definitely hate that guy.

I press my own mic. “One of us will be up in just a minute.” Turning back to Audrey, I give her all my attention. “What should you have told me?”

Moisture collects at the corner of her eyes, unshed tears shimmering in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “I took something with me when I left Trevor.”

“Okay.” I bring a hand to her face, catching a tear with my thumb as it breaks free. “What did you take?”

“I was just trying to protect myself. I thought if I had something to use against him, he would be less likely to come after me. I thought if he was worried I could ruin him, he would just leave me alone.” Audrey starts talking faster and faster.

“And I can’t just let him get away with what he’s doing.

” Her voice wavers. “Someone needs to stop him, and I might be the only one who can, so I made a few phone calls. I thought they were anonymous. I thought I could just plant the seed and it would grow without me.”

“Audrey.” I say her name softly, bringing my other hand to her face, cradling her cheeks as I angle it toward mine. “What did you take?” I say the words slowly, enunciating each one.

She pulls in a shaky breath, swallowing hard before admitting, “A memory stick.”

“Okay.” I smooth my thumbs over her skin, trying to soothe her. Trying to help her calm down. “What’s on the memory stick?”

Audrey barely whispers, “Proof of all the awful things he’s done.”

This is like pulling teeth, but I get it. It’s probably difficult to admit the man you married is a terrible person. “What has he done?”

A bitter little laugh breaks through her lips as another tear slides down her cheek.

“What hasn’t he done? He’s embezzled money from any business he’s been a part of.

He’s used his connections to take down anyone who doesn’t do what he wants.

He’s paid to have people hurt.” Her chin wobbles.

“And…” Audrey closes her eyes, squeezing them tight.

“And, what?” Whatever it is has her nearly hyperventilating, the hands clenched in my shirt holding so tightly her fingers have to be numb. “What else did he do?”

“It’s why I left. When I knew I’d rather die than stay with someone like him.” Her voice is barely audible when she admits, “He was trafficking underage girls.”