With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,32
need a break. It’s been . . . hard.”
She nearly choked on the words, on the admission that she was struggling and needed time to put herself back together. God, she hated this, putting doubt in Dane’s mind that she was no longer capable of pulling her own weight in a job she loved. But then it wasn’t as if she had a job to come back to, so what did it really matter? Dane’s expression immediately softened and his hand went to her shoulder and squeezed.
“I have no doubt you’ll be fine, Lizzie. I won’t have it any other way. Now get out of my office, go get packed, if you aren’t already. But do me a favor please? Would you check in every once in a while just for my peace of mind? I . . . worry about you. You have my word that no one will call you and I’m not asking you to check in with the others. This is purely off the record. Friend to friend. Just let me know how you’re doing and that you’re okay.”
She smiled, a genuine smile and one she hadn’t been able to pull off no matter how hard she tried since her life had irrevocably changed course.
If she hadn’t been so relieved to have gotten past Dane without him being astute enough to know something was definitely going on, other than her sudden desire for an impulsive vacation, she would have remembered that nothing ever got by Dane. And she was an idiot for thinking so.
Not five minutes after she left and Dane lifted one of the slats of the blinds covering his office windows to ensure her vehicle was gone, he then went back to his desk and sat down, punching in a phone number that only served to further blacken his mood.
Never in a million favors would he ask the favor he was about to request from the man he was about to ask it of. He’d never considered any situation where he’d humble himself enough to ask for help from a man who set his teeth on edge. But for Eliza, he had no pride. For Eliza, her safety and ensuring she remained safe, he’d do the unthinkable.
“Wade Sterling,” Dane nearly growled into the phone. “Tell him Dane Elliot is calling about . . . Eliza Cummings.”
If there was one man Eliza couldn’t steamroll, it was Wade, a man who’d taken a bullet for her when he went up against every single member of DSS and told them what flaming dumbasses they were for allowing an injured, tortured woman who hadn’t had sufficient time to recover from participating in the takedown of the men who’d hurt her so horrifically.
And when it became a battle of wills, with Eliza showing more fire and determination than Dane had ever seen from his usually unflappable partner, and her refusing to back down under Wade’s intimidating, ferocious decree, he’d simply honed in on the mission, insisting on going along even though he in no way worked for DSS; and furthermore he was a man who lived cloaked in shadows and Dane didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him.
Only, he’d stepped in front of a bullet that Lizzie’s vest wouldn’t have protected her from. It would have struck the vulnerable flesh of her neck and killed her instantly. Instead, Wade’s much taller frame had caused the bullet to lodge into his arm and even then, the bullet used had been an armor-piercing bullet and had torn through the flesh of his arm, missing bone, thank God; and because Eliza had time to turn, the bullet had gone through Wade’s arm and had wedged itself into Eliza’s protective vest as Wade had taken her down, covering her body with his own.
Yes, if anyone could find out what Eliza was up to and the source of so much pain and shadows in her eyes, and worst of all the fear Dane had seen clearly reflected in a tenth of an unguarded second before she’d visibly collected herself, it was Wade Sterling.
Dane may not like the man, but he owed him a hell of a lot, and he wasn’t stupid. Wade had made a claim on Eliza that any man in a ten-mile radius could recognize. Eliza, on the other hand, was oblivious, but then she was clueless as to her effect on the male population. Always had been.
He could almost feel sorry for Eliza because Dane was effectively throwing