When she looked ready to argue, he held up a hand. “Not WitSec. I’m not asking you to give up your life here. This is nothing like last year.”
He hoped that was true. Nothing about this situation resembled the other—the shooter hadn’t been wearing gang colors, and he’d gone after Shaye at a store, instead of attacking where the rest of the gang’s presumed targets would be, back at the station. All logic pointed to this being random.
But he couldn’t shake the fear that someone wanted Shaye dead. And he couldn’t let anything happen to her.
“Just temporary police protection,” he continued, trying to stop his morose thinking. “Then, once we’re sure you’re out of danger, you get back to work.” He reached out and took her hand, which felt cold and tiny on top of the too-warm blanket. “Deal?”
“No.”
He almost laughed at the stubborn tilt of her chin, the petulant look in her eyes. But this wasn’t a joking matter. “No?” he repeated, in his best “bad cop” voice.
Staring at her now, looking so vulnerable in that hospital bed, made all his protective instincts fire to life. She might have belonged in forensics, but she could have gotten a job doing that anywhere. He’d been the one who’d lured her back to this department after she’d helped with his brother’s case. So everything that was happening to her now was on him.
The idea that he’d had any part, no matter how small, in putting her back in danger left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d always been drawn to Shaye, from that first day she’d shown up at the station, looking nervous behind her determined posture.
She’d slammed into him, all lean muscle and surprisingly soft curves, and then her cheeks had gone such a deep red, he’d been immediately charmed. He’d sought out excuses to see her every day. But he’d never been able to bring himself to ask her out. She was shy and sweet and smart. She came from a close-knit family and he knew when she looked into her future, she saw someone solid and stable to share it with, someone with a normal job. She deserved far better than he’d ever be able to give her.
But when it came to this—when it came to her safety—he knew he was the best man for the job.
He could tell she was scared. It was there, behind the determination in her eyes, in the slight tremor in her hand. But she shook her head.
“I let a shooting scare me off once. I work in law enforcement. Maybe I’m just a lab rat and not a cop, but I’m not letting it force me out again.”
“There’s no shame in going into hiding for a short time,” he told her, but she was already shaking her head again. “You know they’ll hold your job for you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” A smile quivered on her lips, fleeting and self-deprecating. “If I leave now, I’ll never come back. And I want to do this job. I want this life. I’m not giving up on it.”
Cole stared at her, not really sure what she meant by this life. But he could see it in her gaze—she wasn’t going to back down. Which meant he’d have to keep her safe. It would be way more challenging than if she’d agree to go off the grid, but the more he thought about it, there were upsides, too.
With no evidence this was a targeted hit, he’d be hard-pressed to convince the brass to use resources to protect her. He knew he could talk them into it for a short time, but it wouldn’t be easy. And if she went to a safe house, they’d assign a couple of patrol officers to watch her. If she kept working, he’d be on the case. He’d make sure of it. And that meant he’d also be personally in charge of her safety.
“Okay,” he said, not pulling his hand away from hers even as her cheeks started to flush from the extended contact. “Have it your way. But you’d better get used to having me around, then, because I’m not letting you out of my sight until we catch this guy.”
He wasn’t letting her out of his sight?
All sorts of inappropriate thoughts ran through Shaye’s mind until she was sure Cole could see exactly what she was thinking, especially when his pupils dilated, staring back at her.
She dropped her gaze to her lap, her heart thudding way too hard after the day she’d had, and pulled her hand free from his. She’d had a massive crush on Cole from the moment she’d met him. But if she hadn’t already known it, last year’s shooting had quickly shown her that they’d never work. While she’d turned in her resignation the very next morning—over the phone because she was too afraid to return to the scene of the crime—he’d gone right back to work.
They would never be equals. He would always be the brave detective with the badge and the gun, and here she was again, the terrified forensics expert. It couldn’t be more obvious, with her stuck in this hospital bed, in a hospital gown someone had changed her into—she hoped not in front of Cole—and him ready to dive right into solving the case.
But this time would be different, she vowed. Because she might be way too shy, way too awkward, way too boring for a man like Cole Walker, but she was tired of feeling like a coward. Two years ago she’d moved out to Maryland from Michigan, leaving behind her big, well-meaning family and the anonymity that came with being the middle child in a group of five. She’d dived into the unfamiliar, trying to break out of her comfort zone. She’d even bought a house, putting down roots right away, to force herself to stay if things got tough. And things had sure gotten tough.
She wasn’t going to let herself be driven out of the job she loved and the place she’d come to consider home a second time.
She clenched her jaw and looked back up at Cole, praying her cheeks would cool. “What do we know so far about the forensics? What can I do?”
Her specialty was computers, but she had plenty of cross-training. There had to be some way she could help catch this guy. And once they caught him, maybe she could get back to the task of putting her life back on track.
Cole patted her hand. “Right now I just want you to focus on healing up.”
“I’m fine.” She knew he didn’t mean to condescend to her, but if she wanted him to take her seriously as a professional—and not a victim he had to take care of—she needed to show him a reason. She shoved off the blanket and got to her feet, remembering too late she was hooked up to an IV.
The nurse ran in as her monitor went off, and Shaye clapped her hand over the crook of her elbow where she’d pulled out the line.
Cole stood, tried to steady her as she wobbled a little on her feet. “What are you doing?”
“Going home.”
“You need to be under observation,” the nurse stated, scowling as she slapped a piece of cotton over the blood on Shaye’s arm and taped it down.
“I’m fine,” Shaye said. “The wound on my leg is closed, right? My heart rate and blood pressure have been pretty normal the whole time I’ve been in here.” She’d been peeking over at her monitor periodically as she and Cole talked. “You said you were going to release me today. I’m ready to go.”
The nurse frowned at her, but it was nothing compared with Cole’s expression, a mixture of worry, frustration and anger.
Shaye stood her ground. “Have the doctor look at me if you need to, but I feel okay. I want to go home.”
The nurse muttered something under her breath, then looked her over. “All right. But if you start feeling dizzy or your wound opens up, I want you to come back here—understood?”
Nodding, Shaye hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. But she couldn’t stay here any longer. She needed answers about who had shot at her—and why. And