Isaac glanced around and didn’t see anyone else. “Well, you found me.” And shit, maybe Heron could help on a limited scale. “Your timing is good, by the way.”

“And yet you didn’t call? I gave you my number.”

Isaac nodded up to Grier. “Complications.”

Jim cursed under his breath. “Without even knowing the particulars, I can tell you your solution. Leave. Now. You’re worried about her? Let me put you on an airplane.”

“They gave her something.”

“Fucking hell. What.”

“I don’t know.” He stared through the glass at Grier. “And that’s why I’m not leaving.”

“Isaac. Look at me.” When he didn’t comply, Jim grabbed his biceps and squeezed. “Now.”

Isaac slid his stare over. “I can’t have her . . . hurt.”

Another curse. “Okay, fine, so let me clean up the mess. You’re too valuable to sacrifice. We need to get you to somewhere safe, far, far away from anyone or anybody who knows you or could find you. I’ll take care of her—”

“No.” God, he couldn’t explain it and he knew it wasn’t logical. But when it came to Grier . . . he couldn’t trust anyone.

“Be reasonable here, Isaac—you’re the gun pointed at her head. You’re the trigger and you’re the bullet and you’re the shot that’s going to kill her. You hang around here? You’re putting paid to her tombstone.”

“I’ll get myself in between her and Matthias. I’ll—”

“The only way to save you both is for you to get the fuck out of here. Besides, maybe if we can keep you hidden for long enough, he’ll give up—he won’t be able to afford the diversion of resources for an endless search.”

Isaac slowly shook his head. “You know what Matthias has been like the last couple of years. He’s running XOps like a clubhouse, moving his own agenda. He used to take orders . . . but lately? He’s been making them up. He’s out of control. The assignments now are about . . . something else. I don’t know what. And that means he’ll hunt me until he dies. He has to—it’s the only way to protect himself.”

“Then let him track you all over the globe. We’ll make sure you stay two steps ahead of him for the rest of your natural life.”

Isaac refocused on Grier through the glass. She was bracing herself against the counter he’d sat at, her head dropping down, her shoulders bowing as if they bore all her weight. Her hair had been left loose and the long, wavy lengths nearly touched the granite.

“I’m beginning to think that I made a mistake,” he heard himself say. “I should have stayed in XOps.”

“Your mistake is staying in this garden.”

Probably. But he wasn’t leaving.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jim bit out. “Take this.”