Page 13 of Cipher

Raines watched us with a look that said he’d noticed far more than I wanted to deal with tonight. But all he said was, “We need to get her home.”

I nodded. “Tonight. Tomorrow I’m moving her to my house.”

Bex’s breath caught against my chest, and Raines’s expression went from controlled anger to something much more personal. I didn’t see anything that indicated he was considering using his knowledge of criminals to end my life and make sure no one ever found my body, though. Not that he’d get the chance, but I was too tired to deal with bullshit tonight. And just fucking done fighting what was between Bex and me.

“Your house.” His voice was rough, like he had to force the two words out.

“It’s the safest place besides the Black Crowns compound or Black Castle Security buildings.” I kept my hand around Bex’s nape, not bothering to make the answer look less like a claim. “Independent power, redundant communications, hardened rooms, monitored land on every approach, and no public road close enough for someone to sit outside without the club seeing them.”

“I have no doubt you have the best security.” Raines’s gaze dropped to the way his daughter remained tucked against me before returning to my face. “I also remember what happened at Stryker’s wedding.”

“Then you know staying away didn’t make a damn bit of difference in how I feel about her.”

Bex made a startled sound and turned her face just enough to look up at me. Color moved into her cheeks despite everything else, and the sight nearly dragged my mouth down to hers before Raines’s stare reminded me that I was already testing the limits of a useful alliance.

The sheriff fisted his hands at his sides. “Exactly. You’re not neutral where she’s concerned.”

I scowled, and my arms tightened around my woman. “Neutral doesn’t keep her alive.”

“Not worried about you keeping her alive.”

“Dad,” Bex interrupted, finally stepping back far enough to face both of us while my hand slid from her nape to her waist. She didn’t create more distance, which was the only answer I needed from her tonight. “Cipher’s house makes sense, and you know it. Being mad because he glared at Paul during the wedding doesn’t make your house harder to reach.”

“I’m not mad because he glared at Paul.”

“Paul’s hand was too fucking low,” I groused, still annoyed with the little shit.

Raines nodded. “It was.”

Bex closed her eyes for a long moment. “For the love of….”

The sheriff pointed one finger at me. “I’m only agreeing to this because your house is a fortress. But I want her to stay at home tonight. It’s dark, we don’t know how many people are watching, and I’m not moving her into the backcountry until we control the route.”

“Agreed.” I’d already reached the same conclusion, though I disliked hearing anyone else state where Bex would sleep. “In the morning, she comes with me.”

Bex rested one hand against my chest before Raines could answer, drawing my attention down to her. “I’m going because I understand the danger, but moving me behind your gates does not mean I’ll forget Nina. I want to help.”

“I didn’t expect you to.” My fingers tightened once around her waist, fitting more of my palm over the soft curve that had occupied too much of my imagination since the wedding. “You’ll stay informed about anything affecting you, Nina, or dispatch, and I’ll ask when I need something only you know.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “That sounded carefully worded.”

“It was.” I watched irritation spark through her fear and found the return of her fire far more reassuring than any claim that she was fine. “Club business, Black Castle clients, methods that might be less than legal, tactical details. Shit like that isn’t yours to carry. Threats to you are.”

Bex studied me before releasing a breath. “I can live with that, as long as you don’t decide everything is club business the second you don’t want to explain it.”

“I don’t hide behind definitions.”

“No. You don’t play games,” she admitted, the corner of her mouth curving faintly. “You just say no.”

“Efficient.”

My chest warmed when a soft laugh escaped her pretty lips and some of the color returned to her face.

A knock on the door interrupted us. The sheriff opened it and one of Wrangler’s drivers stepped inside to let me know the transport team had arrived. He also handed me the clean emergency phone I’d requested.

While they loaded Bex's car into the enclosed transporter, I configured the new phone with limited contacts, a protected location service, and one-touch alerts. When I handed her the device, she looked at the short contact list and lifted one brow. “You’re first.”

“It isn’t alphabetical,” I informed her so she would understand the significance.