Page 61 of Defiant Hearts

So the op had been about Lance and Talon Group.

She didn’t realize she’d let herself hope that tonight might end her nightmare for good, and her stomach dropped with disappointment.

Wyatt brushed his lips over her temple. “I won’t give up until he’s behind bars, Whitley,” he murmured.

She nodded against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m just glad you made it home safe.”

At the word “home” they drew apart and stared at each other. She didn’t know when it happened—when the Black Heart Ranch started to feel like a place she could stay forever. And she could tell from Wyatt’s face that he was thinking the same thing.

A loud groan interrupted the moment, and they twisted toward Carson to see him cradling his son in one arm, his chubby hand in Carson’s big palm. “Who painted my boy!”

Navy pointed at Whitley. Whitley pointed right back at Navy, and the whole room erupted in laughter.

She joined in despite the fear still sitting heavy in her chest. She had some victories tonight. She had new friends and she’d spoken with her parents. She had a very interesting purple mani, and she had Wyatt next to her, safe.

But as long as Lance was out there, her happy ending was still too far away.

Chapter Thirteen

Wyatt planted both hands flat on Carson’s desk and leaned in close. He might not have served, but he’d spent enough time around military men to know you didn’t square off with a commander this way without consequences.

“You said she was safe here.”

Carson directed his gaze to Wyatt’s hands on the desk, then slowly lifted it back to his face. “You still have that chip on your shoulder.”

“In this case, yeah. I do.” Wyatt didn’t move. After the bomb Carson just dropped on him, he had a fucking reason to keep that chip intact too. It was the one thing that would keep him strong enough to keep Whitley safe.

The words hung in the silence before he made himself push off the desk. He straightened, breathing through the anger clawing up his throat. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair to you. You didn’t give the order.”

Carson leaned back in his chair, some of the tension in his shoulders easing now that Wyatt backed off. “She’s safe. That hasn’t changed. But some FBI pencil pusher decided he needs her to come into their office and give her statement about the murder in person. Their case. Their terms.”

Wyatt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Their office. Where is that?”

“Closest is Cheyenne.”

He calculated the drive. Not far, but any distance between him and Whitley was too far.

“They can’t take her statement here? Or over the phone?”

Carson shook his head. “They want a secure location for the interview, and they’re refusing any other option. Believe me, I tried. Even after I assured them about our own security, they refused.”

Wyatt flexed his jaw, and his molars crunched. “I’ll go with her.”

“Already tried that too.” He didn’t look remotely happy about how this meeting was going either. “I offered to send one of our guards as an escort. They shut it down. They don’t want a third party present during a formal witness testimony, both for the integrity of the statement and because Whitley’s been under our protection for weeks now. The Black Heart might be viewed as having a stake in the case rather than being a neutral party.”

He locked eyes with Carson. “Not acceptable. What time do I need to be ready?”

“Rhodes.” His tone sharpened. “They’re not letting anyone go with her. Not you, not me, not any of the others on the team. She goes in alone.”

Fuck.

He ripped his hat off and dragged a hand through his hair, the anger roaring in twice as strong. “And this doesn’t raise any red flags for you?”

He spread his hands. “It’s protocol. We’ve seen things like this before.”

He pushed a hot breath through his nose. “So we send her in blind? I need proof she’s all right. The second she’s out of our sight, I need something. Anything.”

Carson reached into his desk drawer without a word and pulled out a small velvet pouch, sliding it across the desk.