Page 55 of Blake

But tonight, his concentration was shot. Or this morning, technically.

A glance at the clock at the bottom of the center monitor confirmed it was nearly six.

Fantastic.

He’d been awake for over twenty-four hours. In that time, he’d fought a trained intruder, flown halfway across the country, and learned that a woman connected to Devon’s latest project had been killed.

And yet, despite everything, his brain kept returning to one particular problem.

He’d almost kissed Devon.

Twice.

Both times, his damn phone had interrupted. Granted, Draven and Emmett had called for good reasons. But the next time Blake got that close to Devon’s mouth and someone called, he was letting it go to voicemail.

He smiled at the thought, then sobered. Devon was sleeping in his bed, and she was safe. For now.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Carol Jenkins.

Blake straightened his spine and returned his attention to the center monitor. He’d managed to access the gym’s security footage without much trouble. Compared to some of the systems he’d cracked over the years, the place might as well have left its digital front door wide open.

The problem wasn’t getting in. It was finding what he needed. He’d already reviewed the recordings from the afternoon Devon had been there.

It took some time, but Blake identified several men who roughly matched her description of the guy she’d seen wearing the black hoodie. Unfortunately, the camera angles and poor lighting made it difficult to get a clear look at their faces.

After sifting through that intel, he’d located footage from the gym’s parking lot. A dark SUV appeared near the time Devon had left, but its position in relation to the camera prevented him from getting a usable shot of the license plate.

But it was a start, and Blake wasn’t one to give up easily. Especially when it came to those he loved.

Going straight to the L word already, huh?

He pushed his inner voice aside and focused back on what he knew. Blake thought about the intruder in Devon’s apartment.

He’d been good.

Damn good.

Fast. Disciplined. Comfortable fighting in close quarters.

But he hadn’t expected Blake, and that was his first mistake. Actually, the first was going after Devon.

Blake’s phone vibrated with an incoming text from Emmett.

Emmett: You still awake?

Blake: Define awake.

Three dots appeared before his team leader wrote again.

Emmett: Get some sleep. Briefing at the office at 0900.

Blake: Working on it.

Emmett: That’s what you said an hour ago.

Blake: You keeping tabs on me, Boss?

Emmett: Somebody has to.