That last part was what had done it for her. When he made it to her fifteen minutes later, she was more worried about his state of mind than herself. When he arrived, she’d been in tears in Delgado’s arms, Hawk had turned her into Brock’s, and it didn’t take long before she pulled herself together and turned her attention to him.

She’d witnessed three men get shot, two of them shot dead, but this didn’t faze her, not at all. She slept like a baby in his arms that night, all through, and he knew this because he didn’t sleep a fucking wink. And they’d gone to Aruba as planned and she’d enjoyed the fuck out of that vacation. His boys did too.

After he watched her closely for days and ascertained she wasn’t burying anything, she was actually all right, putting it behind her, moving on, Brock enjoyed it too.

And this was because, he realized, she felt safe. Shit happened, she survived, and even though it wasn’t him who made her safe, men he’d connected with did it for him, not to mention she did her part. To Tess, this incident was a blip and the next morning she was up and making breakfast for his sons like she did every morning, drinking coffee, being a smartass to him, and making his sons laugh.

But Delgado and Lawson got to her. They made her feel safe and they were gentle with her.

Therefore, he owed them too.

And he had no problem being Lawson’s partner. Mitch was younger than Brock but smart, diligent, a good cop who had since become a good friend, and not just because they were partners.

Now he was looking beyond Brock like he’d just learned the world was going to end.

Brock looked over his shoulder and saw what Mitch saw.

Fucking great.

On his fucking birthday no less.

Olivia.

“Slim,” she muttered when she came to a stop by his desk, her eyes shifting to Mitch then back to Brock.

“Olivia, for fuck’s sake, it’s my birthday.”

“Yes, well, for some of us, this isn’t a special day. For some of us, this day is just like any other day.”

He made no reply. Just sat back, looked up at her, and waited for her to be done.

In the last year, Olivia had made short work of getting her talons in another man. Therefore, obviously, she’d stopped being saccharine sweet and gone back to her true self. In other words, a complete bitch.

Though, the good news was, with her claws in another man, she had stopped fucking with him.

When he said nothing, she announced, “Jordan’s being transferred to Portland, Maine.”

Holy fuck.

He felt his gut start to get light.

“And?” he asked.

“He wants me to go with him.”

Holy fuck!