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“Yes, you are.”
He pulled away from me. “I don’t want to be.”
We’d have to work through whatever was bothering him once we were at my condo. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. If someone heard the shot, they’ll have called the police.”
“Oh God, I… What about…” He gestured toward the body.
“It will be taken care of.”
He studied me, eyes wide. “Who are you?”
“Later. Let’s go.” I took his hand and pulled him to his feet. He still had a stubborn look on his face. I was sure he’d argue with me more later, but he wouldn’t win.
He stumbled when I tugged on his arm, and I turned back. “Are you okay? Can you walk?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I would carry you, but we don’t need to draw more attention to ourselves.”
“I can do it.”
“You just have to make it back to my shop, then I’ll put you in my car and take you home.”
“O-okay.”
At least he wasn’t protesting now. I kept my hand on my gun as we crossed the street. I didn’t sense anyone else watching us, but I wasn’t taking chances. No way in hell were any of Swain’s minions getting their hands on Ezra.
He was shaking, and it made me want to track Swain down and snap his neck with my bare hands.
I’d seen how strongly Giorgio and Niall had reacted when their men had been threatened. I’d counseled them to hold themselves back until we’d formed a plan. Now I didn’t know how they’d done it.
Oh fuck. Did that mean… No, I was protecting Ezra because… Shit. Because he was mine.
I pushed those thoughts away. Right now, I needed to focus on getting us home safely. Ezra headed toward the front door of the shop. What if the man I’d killed had intended to lure me out?
“Back door,” I said. “I need to make sure the place is clear.”
“Oh no. I left the door unlocked. I just… I thought you… I heard a yell, and…”
He’d come to save me. I wanted to pull him to me and kiss him again, but I couldn’t do that until I knew we were safe.
When we reached the back door, I debated having Ezra wait in my car, but if someone came for him when he was alone, his chances were worse than they were with me, even if someone was in the shop. “Stay behind me. I need to know you’re going to listen to me so I can focus on protecting you.”
“I will. I’m sorry I…”
“Shh.” I kissed the top of his head. “You didn’t know.” Maybe I should tell him everything now. Was I absolutely sure I could trust him?
Yes.
I hadn’t been paying close enough attention with the man Swain had planted in my shop. When I thought back on it, the signs were there that he wasn’t trustworthy. I’d been stupid, but I was more alert now.
Ezra stayed behind me. He was tucked against the side of the building. Once I could tell the back entryway was clear, I took his arm and pulled him inside, making sure to shield him with my body.
I worked my way through the shop, ensuring Ezra was protected every time we moved into a new space.
There was nobody there, but on the front desk there was a handwritten message held down by one of my tattoo machines. Anger surged through me at the thought of some bastard touching my equipment.
All the note said was, “I will win.” It was signed “S.”
Fuck. One of his men had been in here. If Ezra had stayed put… I couldn’t think about that. I had to focus on keeping him safe now.
“Let’s go.”
“Who left the note?”
I shook my head. “You’re better off not knowing.”
“Why did you hire me if you knew it would put me in danger?”
That was a damn good question. I hadn’t expected Swain to target him. I was getting damn fucking tired of being outmaneuvered by that bastard. It was time to get more aggressive. I’d been holding back, playing the long game. This needed to end now.
“I didn’t know. I should have. This whole damn thing…”
Ezra laid a hand on my arm. “What is it? What are you involved in?”
“We need to get out of here.”
“I want you to tell me what this is about first.”
I exhaled. He was so fucking persistent. “A very bad man needs to be eliminated.”
“I need more details.”
“Later.”
He glared at me. “Now.”
Why was he choosing now to be so fucking stubborn? “You had it right the first time.”
He looked at me quizzically, then his eyes widened. “You’re a spy?”
“Former CIA.”
“So this isn’t…”
“No, this isn’t a sanctioned mission. I do… contract work now.”
He seemed to mull that over for a moment. “Who do you work for?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“How can I trust you if—”
I used my hand on his chin to tilt his head up and held his gaze, trying to let him see the real me. I wasn’t even sure I could do that anymore. I could joke around with friends, tell myself that the relaxed, fun man I was with them was the real me, but the truth was, after years of pretending, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.
