Broken. Rebecca Zanetti
me.”
“No. Last time you didn’t have backup, you nearly died.” He crossed his arms, somehow scouting the entire room while also watching her.
Her back teeth gritted together. “You’re not in charge here, Wolfe.”
“The cuffs say otherwise,” he said, angling his head to take in the dance floor.
She couldn’t help it. She really couldn’t. Full on, she’d chased this story, and now she was pretty much tied up because of a guy who only wanted to be her friend. She kicked him, as hard as she could, right in the shin.
He stiffened and rapidly pivoted, and both hands went to her hips to lift her. She was in the air, halfway to the bar, before she even thought to struggle. A heavy thud sounded from behind Wolfe. A woman screamed.
Wolfe dropped Dana to her feet and shoved her behind him, angling toward the dance floor. He looked up to a balcony high above.
Dana craned her neck to look around him, staring down at the dead man on the ground with a bullet hole in his head. His eyes were wide open and frighteningly blank. Her stomach lurched, and she coughed. “That’s Albert,” she whispered.
Wolfe looked over his shoulder at her. “Well, shit. That’s Clarke, too.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. Wolfe grabbed her bound wrists. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
Chapter Two
Holding Dana tight, ignoring her sweet orange blossoms scent, Wolfe ran past the gaping onlookers to the vestibule, where Thor with an attitude tried to stop him. Not halting his stride, Wolfe lifted the moron beneath the neck and tossed him against the far wall. The fancy wooden paneling cracked, and the guy dropped to the marble floor.
Dana gasped but kept pace with him as he charged out the front door and into the street, scouting for threats. “Where’s your car?” he asked.
Trembling, she pointed down the quiet street to a compact lime-green bug.
His steps faltered and then quickened again. “Where did you get a tiny green car?” he snapped.
“Rented it,” she panted, her eyes wild. “Figured it’d be tough to trace me if something went wrong.”
It was freaking easy to trace a properly rented car if she had used her real ID, which no doubt she had. “Good idea,” he rumbled. Why scare her even more than she already was? Or maybe he should. When he’d turned around and seen her at that sex club party, his head had almost exploded—and not just because of the danger she seemed to hunt like a bluetick hound. That outfit should be illegal.
He opened the passenger-side door and settled her inside, lifting his head. The skin of his neck prickled in warning. Slamming her door, he ran around and tried to force his six-foot-six body into the driver’s seat. Groaning, he reached down and pushed the seat all the way back, which still wasn’t far enough, then slammed the door, wincing as his knees pressed the steering wheel up. He turned the key, impressed she’d left it in the ignition.
The car bucked, and he punched the gas.
“Hey.” Dana stabilized herself with her hands on the dash. “Slow down.”
He didn’t bother to answer, settling both hands on the steering wheel and taking a turn on two wheels.
Sirens trilled, rapidly approaching.
Going on instinct, he turned down another residential street in the subdivision, heading for the rear entrance. The emergency vehicles would use the main entrance. He hoped. “Put on your seat belt,” he said, increasing his speed.
“Wh-what if we need to jump out?” she gasped.
“Seat. Belt.” He didn’t have time to argue.
She did as he ordered, mumbling something and no doubt rolling her spectacular green eyes. “You need to release these damn cuffs.”
Without looking, he reached over and freed the clasp before taking another turn, swiping some rich person’s rosebush. “I like you bound.”
She snorted, tearing off the cuffs and tossing them in the back seat. “Don’t flirt if you can’t follow through.”
He swallowed down a retort, because she was right. He had no intention of dragging her into his disaster of a world, because he knew, without a doubt, that she deserved much better than he’d ever be able to offer. “Want to tell me why you were at a sex party undercover, without backup?” One of the many skills he’d learned in the military was to keep his voice mild when his temper was spiking.
“Oh, no,” she said, stabilizing herself by grabbing the oh shit handle above her head. “I’m not giving you a thing until you spill it all. Not this time.”
Darn stubborn woman. He slowed the car as he caught sight of two kids tossing a football in front of a well-lit mansion. Shouldn’t they be in bed? It was after midnight.
She cleared her throat. “When you picked me up after I kicked you—you weren’t really going to . . .”
He sped by a cul-de-sac and headed for the exit, hitting the brakes as the gate slowly started to open. “I said I would.” They’d both been undercover, and he’d provided warning. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“Probably,” she returned, her voice a mite snappy. “You have no idea what hell you would’ve unleashed.”
Amusement flitted through him like a ghost of the sense of humor he’d had years ago. He turned to face her, his gaze dropping to the sexy corset. “You don’t think I could spank you?”
A startling pink flushed up from her breasts to her face, catching his attention as her cheeks darkened. Then her eyes sparked. Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. He focused back on the infuriatingly slow gate. “I’ve never lied to you, Dana.” He never would, either.
“Maybe you haven’t lied, but you sure don’t tell—” She yelped as bullets impacted the vehicle.
In one smooth motion, he grabbed the back of her neck and bent her, shoving her torso below the window while pressing hard on the gas pedal. The car lurched through the gate, which scraped along the passenger side, flicking sparks.
To her credit, she didn’t struggle. “You think they’re shooting at you or me?” Her voice was muffled against her legs.
“Good question.” Trusting her to remain down, he released her to put both hands on the wheel and zip out to a main traffic artery, searching for the enemy in the rearview mirror. “I think they shot from the bushes at the exit. Hopefully no vehicle near.”
A black truck swerved around the corner behind them, its headlights cutting through the darkness. He’d spoken too soon.
She partially rose up to look over her shoulder. “You have a gun?”
“Where would I put a gun in this outfit?” He wouldn’t be able to lose the truck in this small vehicle.
She coughed, her eyes wide, her face pale. “How are you so calm right now?” Her soft voice rose to almost shrill.
“Training?” He ripped around another corner and had to swerve to avoid a woman walking a poodle. Why wasn’t anybody in bed at the damn late hour? “I don’t feel things like other people do, not anymore.” The truck was getting closer.
“As much as I like you opening up, maybe we should talk about your emotions later? After we get rid of these guys?” she gasped.
“Good point.” One of the advantages of his lack of emotion was that the adrenaline flooding his system focused him. Keeping calm and rational was the only way they’d get out of this. He drove up the on-ramp to the interstate just as bullets grazed the back of the bug. If one hit a tire at this speed, the car would roll. “Hold on.” He swerved in and out of traffic, ignoring the blaring horns. An elderly lady