“But I don’t want to hide. I’ve spent too many years on the run—and the danger still hasn’t gone away. And I’m sick of it. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, wondering when he’s going to catch up. I have to at least try to fight back.”
“How?” Sully cut in, not liking how this was going. “You can’t fight a gang like that. Christ, you saw them. They even had an E-13.”
The cop shot him a startled glance. “What?”
Sully exhaled. “I forgot to tell you. They had one in the car.”
“An E-13? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I fired one in Afghanistan. I recognized the design—the bullpup configuration, the top-mounted magazine. And those high-velocity cartridges made Swiss cheese out of those cars. We’re lucky they couldn’t control their shots.”
“Then the rumors on the street are true....”
“What rumors? What’s an E-13?” Haley asked. Both women looked confused.
“It’s an experimental weapon,” Parker told her. “A shoulder-fired submachine gun with a really short barrel. It’s similar to the P-90 but smaller. It has the same ambidextrous controls, but a better feeding system, and it fires more rounds.”
“Our military’s field-testing them,” Sully added. “Production’s limited. They aren’t on the market yet. Not even the black market.”
Or so they’d thought.
“What that means,” he continued, returning to the point, “is that you’re out armed. There’s no way you can fight them alone.”
Her frown deepening, Haley rose and walked to the window, her slender spine straight, her hips gently swinging in her low-slung jeans. He took in the glossy hair tumbling over her shoulders, the seductive curve of her back, trying to ignore the sensual tug. He understood her reluctance to hide, and he sympathized with her need to fight back. But she’d never fend off that gang, even without the E-13s. She had to go somewhere safe.
She turned around and sighed. “I know you’re worried, but I’m not completely defenseless. I’ve got some high-powered connections, too.”
Brynn swiveled around to face her, grimacing as she moved her arm. “You’re not serious.”
“Why not? They know everyone in Baltimore and D.C.”
Sully frowned. It was his turn to be confused. “Who does?”
“My parents. My father’s a criminal defense attorney. He represents a lot of gang members. He knows everyone—the police, people in the criminal justice system, politicians. And my mother knows even more people than he does. Her ancestors helped found this town. If the person behind this is that high-level, they’ll know him for sure.”
“Assuming they agree to help you,” Brynn said.
Haley crossed her arms, worry darkening her eyes. “I know. It’s a long shot. We didn’t exactly part on friendly terms. But it’s worth a try.”
Her friend didn’t look convinced. “I guess a phone call wouldn’t hurt.”
“No. I need to see them in person. Otherwise they’ll just hang up. There’s a fund-raiser tomorrow night for area shelters. I wasn’t going to go, but now...” She shrugged. “It’s at Hunter Hall in Virginia. All the bigwigs will be out in force.”
“I heard about that,” Parker said. “The police commissioner’s going to attend.”
Sully’s frown deepened. The uneasy feeling inside him grew. “Wait a minute. You said the guy who’s after you has power. What if he’s there?”
“Then I can draw him out.”
The hell she would. Outraged, he rose and limped to her side. “Are you crazy? You can’t take a risk like that. You saw that text message. You can’t just walk around in the open with a bounty on your head.”
“So I’ll take a bodyguard along.”
He still didn’t like it. He glowered back, his protective instincts raging, needing to force her to listen to sense. But he didn’t have that right. And neither did he want it. This woman meant nothing to him.
Then Parker spoke up from across the room. “I can get a cop to go with you. I know a few who moonlight as bodyguards.”
Sully shot him a look of disbelief. “You can’t be serious. She needs to hide, not appear in public, risking her life.”
But Haley broke in. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t use the police. The killer could recognize a cop. I need someone less obvious. Someone I can pass off as my date.” Her gaze returned to his.
Realization sank in. He took a quick step back. “Forget it.”
“Why not? You obviously know how to shoot. And you’re in this as much as I am. That gang’s after you now, too.”
He didn’t care about himself. He should have died months ago. But Haley needed protection—protection he couldn’t provide.
“I can’t.” He had a bum leg. He suffered from chronic flashbacks. Hell, he was so messed up he could barely function without a drink, let alone safeguard her. And his intuition was off. The last time he’d relied on his instincts, he’d screwed up—and his men had paid the price.
“He’s right,” the cop told her. “No offense to Sully, but you need a pro, someone who can keep his eye out for trouble in a place like that.”
Someone who could stay sober, he meant.
Sully worked his jaw, suspecting his bloodshot eyes had given him away—or the way he’d guzzled the beer Parker had offered him when they’d first arrived. But even if it humiliated him to admit it, Parker was right. Haley didn’t need a ruined man like him for her bodyguard.
But she only raised her chin. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Too bad. I’m not going to do it.”
Her eyes held his. The air between them pulsed. But then she glanced at her friends again. “Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”
“Sure. We’ll be in the kitchen.” Brynn struggled to her feet. Her fiancé helped her up, and they exited the room.
Sully folded his arms, steeling himself for the argument he knew would come. He didn’t have long to wait.
“Listen, Sully. I don’t blame you for not wanting to get involved in this.”
“I can’t.”
She gave him a nod. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know anything about me.”
She tilted her head, her dark-lashed eyes on his. “I know some things. You saved my life today. You rescued the girls. If you hadn’t been there we’d all be dead.”
“I got lucky, that’s all.”
“It was a lot more than luck, and you know it.”
“No, it wasn’t. Don’t twist this around. And don’t make me into something I’m not. Your friends are right. They know I can’t protect you. You need to listen to them.”
Her eyes went soft. She moved even closer, her nearness muddling his thoughts. “They’re wrong. You’re wrong. But if you don’t want to do it, I understand.”
“Then you’ll do what they say? You’ll go to a safe house?”
“No. Not yet. I can’t,” she added when he hissed. “I have to try to get answers. If my parents won’t talk, if