Книга - Finding The Edge

Finding The Edge
Debra Webb


She’s a target – and only he can save her…Bodyguard Todd Christian has been hired to protect ER nurse Eva Bowman, who’s been targeted by a dangerous gang. But she’s the woman Todd has never been able to forget! After walking away once – Todd’s not going to make that mistake again!







There’s a target on her back.

And only he can save her.

How can his latest assignment not be personal? Bodyguard Todd Christian has been hired to protect ER nurse Eva Bowman. Not only has she been marked for death by a dangerous gang, but also she’s the woman Todd has never been able to forget. He chose to walk away from her—and the heat between them—once. That’s not a mistake Todd is making again.


DEBRA WEBB is the award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author of more than one hundred novels, including those in reader-favorite series Faces of Evil, the Colby Agency and the Shades of Death. With more than four million books sold in numerous languages and countries, Debra’s love of storytelling goes back to childhood on a farm in Alabama. Visit Debra at www.debrawebb.com (http://www.debrawebb.com).


Also by Debra Webb

Finding the EdgeDark WhispersStill WatersBridal ArmorReady, Aim...I Do!Colby LawHigh NoonColby Roundup

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Finding the Edge

Debra Webb






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07886-3

FINDING THE EDGE

© 2018 Debra Webb

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This book is dedicated to the outstanding men and women of the Chicago Police Department. Thanks for all you do!


Contents

Cover (#u45b056cb-0c74-567d-a171-81bd4fe54014)

Back Cover Text (#u21052a20-6431-5529-91aa-e44293734144)

About the Author (#u5d8ac37c-90a3-514e-ad3a-3db9f3666701)

Booklist (#ucf85ab7f-43fd-576f-a02d-b34f440cefad)

Title Page (#u8f812344-21d3-54f7-8de7-81c46bc2148a)

Copyright (#ubc6b86dd-9dcc-5442-ad9a-186a170106df)

Dedication (#ue8583c7b-a505-5324-9f4f-8666aaf154a8)

Chapter One (#u19c36503-e80d-5cde-a178-2ae56671ca48)

Chapter Two (#u45b061bb-9753-58cf-b43f-c8279a77fd3d)

Chapter Three (#uaee0f056-eb10-51a2-872d-69bc48307590)

Chapter Four (#u619a583f-5201-5c99-baf5-3b278aaccc00)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#uc162b7aa-c8af-540e-8dc2-b011e61824f0)

The Edge, Chicago Friday, May 4, 9:50 p.m.

“We’re going to need more gurneys!” Dr. Marissa Frasier shouted.

Someone amid the fray yelled that more gurneys were coming. They had nine new victims besides the dozen already in the ER. All bleeding, some worse than others. All had been shot and all were armed. And every damned one sported white T-shirts with an odd circle inside a circle in the center and wore black beanie caps. Their shouted threats echoed like thunder, inciting fear. Thank God most of the other patients had been checked in and were either already triaged and stable or had nonlife-threatening emergencies.

Eva Bowman might have considered it just another crazy Friday night looming toward a code black if not for the three cars that had screeched into the ER entrance with those new victims. Several armed men had barged in, waving automatic guns and demanding help for their friends. The three apparently in charge had forced everyone in the waiting room onto the floor and sent the entire ER staff, including the receptionist and the two registration specialists, outside to help their friends.

In all the commotion, Eva hoped someone had been able to alert the police. One of the security guards had been shot. He and the other guard had been restrained and left on the floor in the waiting room, blood pooling around the injured man. One of the gunmen stood over the small crowd, his scowl shifting from one to the other as if daring someone to give him a reason to start shooting. Eva wished she was more knowledgeable about the tattoos and colors worn by the different gangs in the Chicago area, though she couldn’t readily see how knowing would help at the moment. For now, she did what she was told and prayed help would arrive soon.

Eva pushed an occupied gurney through the double doors, leaving the lobby behind. All the treatment rooms were full so she found a spot in the corridor and parked. She ripped open the shirt of her patient. Male. Mid to late twenties. Hispanic. He was sweaty and breathing hard. He’d lost some blood from the bullet wound on his left side. Lucky for him the bullet appeared to have exited without much fanfare. Still, he was no doubt in serious pain. Whatever his pain level, he clutched his weapon and continued to bellow arrogantly at his friends as if a shot to the gut was an everyday occurrence. From what little she recalled of high school Spanish, he seemed to be claiming victory over whatever battle had occurred. If the group of wounded men who had been scattered on the asphalt in front of the ER doors were the winners, she hated to think what condition the losers were in. Didn’t take much of a stretch to imagine they were in all probability dead.

An experienced registered nurse, Eva performed a quick assessment of her patient’s vitals. Respiration and pulse were rapid. Though his skin was warm and moist, his color remained good. From all indications he was not critical, but there could be underlying issues she could not assess. He would need an ultrasound to ensure no organs were damaged, and the wound would need to be cleaned and sutured.

“Sir, can you tell me your name?”

The man stared at her as if she’d asked him to hand over his weapon. She decided to move on to her next question. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst you’ve ever suffered, can you tell me how much pain you’re in?”

“Cero.”

She sincerely doubted that was the case but if he wanted to play the tough guy, that was fine by her.

Over the next few minutes her patient as well as the others were sorted according to their needs and ushered on to the next level of care. Some were taken straight to operating rooms while others went on to imaging for additional assessment. One nurse and a doctor had been allowed to treat the patients in the lobby. Eva remained in the ER helping to attend to those who had arrived and were triaged and assigned treatment rooms before the gunmen arrived and took over. The armed patients who didn’t require further care were mostly loitering around the corridor waiting for the return of their friends who’d been sent off to imaging or to the OR. What they didn’t seem to realize was that those friends wouldn’t be coming back to join them tonight.

One of the other nurses had whispered to Eva that Dr. Frasier had initiated the emergency assistance protocol. The police had been made aware that the ER was under siege or under duress of some sort and required law enforcement intervention.

Once before she had found herself in a similar situation. Time was necessary for the police to arrive and assess the situation, then they would send in SWAT to contain the problem. She hoped no one else was hurt during the neutralization and containment of the gunmen. So far she had hidden three weapons. Two from patients who’d been rushed to the OR and one from the guy not a dozen feet away who claimed he was in zero pain. His pain had apparently been so nonexistent that he hadn’t realized his fingers had loosened on the 9 mm he’d been waving around when he first arrived.

Dr. Frasier noticed what Eva was up to and gave her a look of appreciation. No matter that she had removed and hidden three weapons—there were still six armed victims as well as the three armed and uninjured men who had taken over the ER. Thankfully, the thug who appeared to be the boss had allowed the injured guard to be treated for the bullet he’d taken. The guard’s injury was not life threatening. He and his partner for the night were now both locked in the supply room.

Eva glanced at her watch. Approximately ten seemingly endless minutes had elapsed since the police were notified of their situation via the emergency protocol. SWAT would be rolling in soon. She didn’t have to look outside to know that cops would have already taken crucial positions in the parking area.

All handheld radios and cell phones had been confiscated and tossed into a trash can—except for Eva’s. The only reason the pat down conducted by the shortest of the three jerks who’d taken over the ER hadn’t revealed her cell phone was because she didn’t carry it in her pocket or in an armband. Eva kept hers in an ankle band made just for cell phones. Her last boyfriend had been an undercover cop and he’d shown her all sorts of ways to hide weapons and phones. If she’d been smart she would have carried a stun gun strapped to her other ankle the way he suggested.

They might still be together if he had been able to separate his work from his personal life. It was one thing to pretend to be someone else to catch the bad guys but entirely another to take on a separate persona for the purposes of cheating on your girlfriend.

Apparently the guys playing king of the ER weren’t savvy enough to be aware that, like gun manufacturers, cell phone manufacturers thought of everything when it came to keeping phones close to users. Whatever the case, Eva was grateful her phone was still right where it was supposed to be. All she needed was an opportunity to use it. Knowing the situation inside would be incredibly useful for the police, particularly in determining how they made their grand entrance.

Her cell phone had vibrated about twenty times. Probably her sister, Lena. An investigative journalist at a local television station, Lena had no doubt heard about the trouble at the Edge. The best journalists had good contacts within Chicago PD and the Edge always had news. A Level I Trauma test unit challenging the approach to emergency medicine, the Edge was the only one of its kind in the nation.

Eva glanced toward the rear of the emergency department and the door that led into the main corridor that flowed into imaging and the surgery suite, winging off to the Behavioral Unit on the left and Administration to the right. Then she surveyed the ongoing activity between her and the double doors that opened into the lobby area. The man in charge and his cohorts were in deep conversation with the three other patients who hadn’t been moved on to another level of care. Dr. Frasier was suturing the wound of one while Dr. Reagan was doing the same with another. Kim Levy, a nurse and Eva’s friend, was bandaging the third patient’s closed wound.

Eva eased back a step and then another. Four more steps and she would be through the door and into the corridor beyond the emergency department. Slow, deep breaths. No sudden moves. Another step, then another, and she was out the door.

Eva whirled away from the softly closing door and ran to the ladies’ room. She couldn’t lock the door since it didn’t have one—no one wanted a patient to lock him or herself in the bathroom. Inside there were, however, two stalls with slide locks.

She slipped into the second one and snapped the stall latch into place, then sat on the closed toilet lid and pulled her knees to her chest so no one coming in would see her feet. She tugged her cell phone from its holster at her ankle and saw four missed calls and six text messages from her sister. She didn’t dare make a voice call so she sent a text to her sister and asked her to update the police on the situation inside the ER. Three uninjured gunmen. Four injured with guns, five others currently unarmed and in imaging or an OR. One injured guard. Both guards incapacitated.

A few seconds later, Lena told her to stay calm and to keep a low profile. Help was already on-site. Daring to relax the tiniest bit, Eva slid the phone back into its holster.

All she had to do was stay calm. Easy enough. She stepped off the seat.

The sound of the door opening sent fear exploding in her veins. She flushed the toilet, took a breath and exited the stall.

The man she thought to be in charge waited for her. He leaned against the door, the weapon in his hand lying flat against his chest. She decided that all the intruders were under thirty. This one looked to be early twenties. Though he appeared younger than the others, he was clearly the boss.

Eva steadied herself. “This is the ladies’ room.” She stared at him. “Baño femenino.”

He laughed. “Si.”

Oh crap. She squared her shoulders and took a step toward the door...toward him. “I need to be back out there helping your friends.”

He shook his head. “There is plenty help already.”

Eva swallowed back the scream mushrooming in her throat. There was no one to hear. This jerk was slightly taller than her five-seven. He was heavier and more muscled than her for sure, and a hell of a lot meaner. But she might be able to take him...if not for the gun.

As if he’d read her mind, he smiled and pointed the muzzle at her head. “On your knees, bitch.”

The shaking started so deep inside her that she wondered how she remained standing, yet somehow she did. “The police are coming.” The words shook, too, but she couldn’t keep her voice steady if her life depended on it. Right now the ability to continue breathing might very well depend on her next word or move. “If you’re smart, you’ll tell your friends and you’ll run. Now, while you still can.”

He nodded, that nasty grin still stretched across his lips. “Yes,” he agreed, the word sounding more like des with his thick accent.

Since he made no move to rush to his friends and warn them, her advice had clearly fallen on deaf ears. “So you don’t care if you get caught?” She shrugged. “You want to go to prison? Then you can be somebody’s bitch.”

He charged toward her, pinned her to the counter of the row of sinks behind her. Of their own volition, her hands shot up in surrender. “Just trying to help you out. You...you don’t want the police to show up and find you distracted. If you go now, they won’t catch you.”

She hoped like hell the guy had enough self-preservation instinct to realize she had a valid point.

“You talk a lot for a dead girl,” he growled as he jammed the muzzle against her temple now. “You give me some of that—” he slid his free hand down her belly, forcing it between her thighs “—with no trouble and I’ll be gone so fast you’ll still be begging for more.”

Trapped between him and the counter with his damned gun pointed at her brain, she couldn’t move, didn’t dare scream. Her heart flailed against her sternum. Stay calm. Your fear makes him stronger.

“Okay, okay.” This close she smelled the whiskey on his breath, could fully comprehend just how inebriated he was. Bleary eyes. Slurred speech. No wonder he wasn’t worried about the police. She drew in a shaky breath. Play along until you come up with a better plan. “What do you want?”

He laughed. “Suck me.”

She nodded as she slowly lowered her hands. The muzzle bored into her skull a little harder as she reached for his fly. He was fully erect, bulging against his jeans. Bile rose in her throat as she unfastened the button, then lowered the zipper. She told herself over and over she had no choice as she reached into his open fly. He didn’t have on any underwear so he was right there. She closed the fingers of her right hand around him while somehow managing to restrain the shudder of revulsion.

In hopes of putting off what he really wanted, her hand started to move. He made a satisfied sound, his eyes partially closing. “Oh, yeah, that’s a good start.”

She worked her hand back and forth faster and faster, felt his body tense. Watched his eyes drift completely shut.

Now or never.

Eva ducked her head, jammed her left shoulder into his gut and pushed with every ounce of her body weight. At the same time, she released his penis and grabbed his testicles and twisted as hard as she could.

He screamed.

The weapon discharged.

The mirror over the sinks shattered.

He grabbed at her; she twisted her upper body out of reach, spinning them both around. The muzzle stabbed at her chest; she leaned away from the gun and rammed into him even harder. Another shot exploded into the air as they both went down. His head hit the counter, making a solid thump as his neck twisted sharply. They crashed to the cold tile floor. The air grunted out of her lungs. Eva was still squeezing his balls when she realized he was no longer moving.

Disentangling herself from him, she scooted a few feet away. His eyes blinked, once, twice...he mumbled something she couldn’t comprehend.

Eva scrambled to her feet and backed toward the door. She should reach for his weapon...she should grab it and run...

The door burst inward, almost knocking her on top of the man on the floor.

Another of the gunmen stared first at her and then at the man on the floor whose fly was flared open with his erect penis poked out.

Before Eva could speak the man grabbed her by the hair with his left hand and the gun in his right shoved into her face. “What did you do to him?”

Shaking so hard now she could hardly speak, she somehow managed to say, “He tried to rape me, so I pushed him away and he fell...he hit his head.”

The man shoved her to the floor. She landed on her knees. “Help him,” he snarled.

Eva moved closer to her attacker. His eyes were open but he didn’t look at her. When she touched his neck to measure his pulse he mumbled but his words were unintelligible. Pulse was rapid. His body abruptly tensed. Seizure. Damn.

“We need to get him into the ER now.” She pushed to her feet. “He may have a serious head injury.”

The man grabbed her by the hair once more and jerked her face to his. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

A new stab of terror sank deep into her chest. “He attacked me. I was trying—”

“If he dies,” he snarled, the muzzle boring into her cheek, “you die.”

Suddenly the gun went upward. His arm twisted violently. A pop echoed in the room. Not a gunshot...a bone...

The man howled in agony. His body was hurled toward the floor. He landed on the unforgiving tile next to his friend.

Eva wheeled around, readied to scream but swallowed back the sound as she recognized Dr. Devon Pierce, the Edge creator and administrator.

“Check the corridor,” he ordered. “If it’s clear, go to my office and hide. I’ve got this.” The man on the floor scrambled to get up and Pierce kicked him hard in the gut.

When Eva hesitated, he snarled, “Go!”

She eased the bathroom door open and checked the corridor. Clear. She slipped out of the room, the door closed behind her, cutting of the grunts and awful keening inside. Her first instinct was to return to the ER to see if her help was needed there, but Dr. Pierce had told her to hide in his office. She didn’t know what he was doing here but she assumed he was aware somehow of all that had happened. Perhaps the emergency protocol automatically notified him or maybe he had been in his office working late. Bottom line, he was the boss.

She hurried along the corridor, took a right into another side hall past the storeroom and the file rooms. Fear pounded in her veins as she moved into the atrium. Pierce’s office was beyond the main lobby. She held her breath as she hurried through an open area. When she reached his secretary’s office and the small, private lobby she dared to breathe, then she closed herself in his office. The desk lamp was on. Apparently Pierce had been in his office working. She reached for her cell.

Before she could put through a call to her sister, she heard rustling outside the door. The roar of her own blood deafening in her ears, Eva glanced quickly around the room. She had to hide. Fast!

With no other option she ducked under his desk, squeezed as far beneath it as she could, folding her knees up to her chin and holding herself tight and small.

A soft swoosh of air warned the door of the administrator’s office had opened.

She held her breath.

The intruder—maybe Pierce, maybe a cop—moved around the room. She had no intention of coming out of hiding until she knew for certain. The sound of books sliding across shelves and frames banging against the wall clarified that the intruder was neither Pierce nor a cop. Footfalls moved closer to her position. She needed to breathe. She pressed her face to her knees and dared to draw in a small breath. Black leather shoes and gray trousers appeared behind the desk. Her eyes widened with the dread spreading inside her.

Definitely male.

The man dropped into the leather executive chair and reached for the middle drawer of the desk. His rifling through the drawer contents gave her the opportunity to breathe again. He moved on to the next drawer, the one on his right. More of that rummaging. Then he reached lower, for the final drawer on that side. She prayed he wouldn’t bend down any lower because he would certainly see her.

She held her breath again. He shifted to access the drawers on the other side, and his foot came within mere centimeters of her hip. He searched through the three remaining drawers. Then he stood. Sharp movement across the blotter pad told her he was writing something. Finally, he moved away from the desk.

The door opened and then closed.

Eva counted to thirty before she dared to move. She scooted from under the desk and scanned the room. She was alone. Thank God. The books and framed awards and photos on the once neatly arranged shelves lay scattered about. Her gaze instinctively dropped to the desk.

I know what you did.

The words were scrawled on the clean expanse of white blotter paper. For ten or more seconds she couldn’t move. She should go...get out of this office. Whatever that—she stared at the note—was about, she didn’t want to get dragged into it. The men who had stormed the ER had all been wearing jeans or cargo pants, not dress trousers and certainly not leather loafers. Just go!

At the door, she eased it open and checked the administrator’s private lobby. Clear. She’d almost made it out of the secretary’s office when she heard hurried footfalls in the corridor. Renewed panic roared through her veins.

With nowhere else to go, she ducked under the secretary’s desk.

The footfalls moved across the carpeted floor. She heard the sound of Pierce’s office door opening. The man was popular tonight. Had the guy who’d written the note forgotten something?

A soft curse came from the general direction of Pierce’s office.

Eva hoped SWAT was ready to storm the place. She would hate to survive a bunch of crazed thugs or gangbangers or whatever they were and be murdered by a man wearing dress trousers and black leather shoes.

“Eva!”

For a moment she couldn’t breathe.

“Eva!”

Dr. Pierce. She scrambled out from under the desk. “Yes, sir. I’m here.”

Fury or outrage—something on that order—colored his face. “The police are here. They’ll need your statement.”

Thank God. “Is everyone okay? The gunmen have been contained?”

He nodded, then frowned. “I thought you were going to hide in my office.”

She shrugged and in that instant something about the expression on his face made her decide to keep what happened in his office to herself. “I heard someone coming. I freaked and hid under the secretary’s desk.”

“Someone came in here?”

He had to know someone had. He couldn’t have missed the disarray in his office or the note on his desk.

She nodded. “I couldn’t see what was happening, but I definitely heard footsteps and the door to your office opening and closing.”

“You didn’t get a look at who it was?”

She shook her head. Was that suspicion she heard in his voice?

When he continued to stare at her without saying more, she offered, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” He smiled, rearranging his face into the amiable expression he usually wore. “It is now. Come with me. We should get this police business squared away so we can return to the business of healing the sick.”

The walk back to the emergency department was the longest of her life. She could feel his tension in every step he took. She wanted to ask him again if everything was okay but she didn’t dare stir his suspicions.

Right now all she wanted was for this night to be over.


Chapter Two (#uc162b7aa-c8af-540e-8dc2-b011e61824f0)

Magnificent Mile Tuesday, May 8, 2:15 p.m.

Eva hurried up the sidewalk. She glanced over her shoulder repeatedly, checked the street over and over. She hated that her behavior no doubt looked entirely paranoid, but the truth was paranoia had been her constant companion for better than forty-eight hours. Since she received the first message.

Two men had swerved to the curb on her street as she walked home from the market on Saturday afternoon. She might have kept walking except the one hanging out the passenger window called her name.

Eva! Eva Bowman! He’s coming for you, la perra. You killed hishermano menor.

The man who’d tried to rape her—the one who’d fractured his skull in that damned bathroom and then died—was the younger brother of one of Chicago’s most notorious gang leaders.

Just her luck.

Eva walked faster. She hadn’t meant to kill anyone. She’d been fighting for her life. He’d fallen...his death was an accident. An accident that wouldn’t have happened had he not been trying to rape her.

The detectives on the scene had tried to make her feel better by telling her that Diego Robles—that was the dead man’s name, Diego Robles—and his gang of nearly a dozen thugs had murdered six men and two women on Friday before overtaking the ER where she worked.

Except it hadn’t made her feel better. Robles had been nineteen years old. Nineteen. He had an older brother, Miguel, who was thirty-five and the leader of the True Disciples, an extremely violent offshoot of the Latin Disciples. The brother had passed along his message to Eva on three occasions without ever leaving a single shred of evidence she could take to the police.

The first warning had come on Saturday afternoon via the two thugs in the car. Another had come when she walked out of the corner coffee shop near her apartment building on Sunday morning. Then, last night, another man had showed up at the ER asking for her. When she’d appeared at the registration desk, he’d waited until no one was looking and leaned forward to whisper for her ears only.

You will die this week.

With that he’d given her a nod and told her to enjoy her night.

She’d reported all three incidents to the police and all they could do was tell her to be careful. No one had touched her or damaged her property. She had no proof of the threats other than her word. But last night when she’d been too afraid to go to her car alone and then too terrified to go to her own apartment, she’d understood she had to do something. She worried the only evidence to back up her fears would come in the form of someone finding her body after it was too late.

Lena had demanded, to no avail, protection from the police for Eva. Kim Levy, her friend and another nurse at the Edge, had urged her to speak to Dr. Pierce. Kim had been in the ER on Friday night. She understood how terrified Eva had every right to be. But Eva couldn’t stop thinking about the way Dr. Pierce had looked at her after the strange happenings in his office. She’d decided not to discuss that odd moment with Kim or anyone else. And she had no desire to discuss her personal dilemma with her boss. Still, Kim being Kim, she had gone to Dr. Pierce and told him what was going on. He had insisted on sending Eva to the Colby Agency. Eva had heard of the Colby Agency. Who hadn’t? She’d certainly never expected to need a private investigations firm. Yet, here she was. She had an appointment at two thirty. Five minutes from now.

Almost there. The Magnificent Mile was always busy, even on a Tuesday afternoon with hours to go before the evening rush of commuters headed home. She looked at each face she met...wondering when one of them would appear.

She walked faster, pushing against the wind that seemed to want to blow her right back to where she’d parked her car.

No turning back now.

A shiver chilled her skin. It didn’t feel very much like spring today. Barely sixty degrees and overcast. Just in case it started to rain again, she’d tucked her umbrella into the beige leather bag she carried. Her pepper spray was in there, too. She carried her life around in one of two bags: a well-used brown one for fall and winter and this tawny beige one her mother had given her for spring and summer. Life was complicated enough without changing the purse she carried more than twice a year. Eva went out of her way to keep life simple. She’d had enough complications her freshman year in college. She’d made a decision all those years ago never to allow those sorts of complications ever again.

Life was better when she stuck to enjoying the simpler pleasures. Like all the gorgeous tulips still in bloom and the trees that had gone from their stark winter limbs to lush and green already.

That was the ticket. Focus on the mundane...the normal.

The deep timbre of male voices was suddenly behind her. Fear crept up her spine like a cluster of spiders and her heart swelled into her throat. Her gait wavered, causing her to nearly stumble. A group of four men moved around and ahead of her. Despite the glaring facts that they paid her absolutely no notice, were dressed in business suits and kept moving at a brisk pace, her heart refused to slide back down into her chest where it belonged. The pepper spray in her bag felt wholly inadequate.

Damn, she was a mess.

It wasn’t until she spotted the wide glass front bearing the address of her destination that she was able to breathe easy again. Her hands settled on the door and, despite her best efforts, she hesitated. Calm was the necessary watchword. If she went into this meeting shaken and panicky, she might very well meet with the same reception she’d received from the two Chicago PD detectives working the investigation.

Investigation. There were several aspects of the ongoing investigation. The clash between the True Disciples and another well-known gang with the resulting multiple homicides. The taking of an entire ER hostage. And the deemed justified homicide of Diego Robles. Both detectives, their captain and the DA had told her the events that happened in that bathroom were self-defense, completely justified. She had not intended to kill anyone. She’d only been trying to get away from him. The man’s death was an accidental consequence of his actions.

But dead was dead.

Calm. Collected.Not your fault.

Eva squared her shoulders and pushed through the door. A wide, gleaming metal security desk curved around the center of the enormous lobby. Enough greenery to rival a small jungle softened all the glass and glossy metal.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” the security guard said as she approached the counter. “You have an appointment?”

“The Colby Agency.” She drew her wallet from her bag and produced her driver’s license. “Eva Bowman.”

The guard checked the computer screen, scanned her license into his system, then handed the license as well as a visitor’s badge to her. “The elevators are to your right. Fourteenth floor is where you’re headed. Your code for the elevator is on the back of the badge. Just drop the badge off here as you leave, Ms. Bowman.”

“Thank you.” As she moved toward the bank of elevators, she checked the back of the badge. Eight-two-six-seven. She clipped the badge onto the lapel of her sweater and tapped the call button.

The doors opened to a vacant car. Deep breath. She stepped inside and selected floor fourteen. The keypad warned that a code was required so she entered the necessary digits. When the doors closed she stared at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator interior. She’d taken care to dress professionally. The soft blush color of her pants and sweater set complemented her too-pale skin. Matching leather ballet flats were easy on the feet. Her first month as an ER nurse had taught her to appreciate good shoes made for comfort. She’d swept her blond hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and she’d gone easy on the makeup. Just a touch of lip gloss and a swipe of mascara.

Calm. Collected.

The car bumped to a stop and the doors slid open to another lobby. A receptionist looked up from behind an opaque glass desk and smiled. “Good morning. Welcome to the Colby Agency, Ms. Bowman.”

The next five or so minutes passed in a blur. After the offer of refreshments, which she declined, another receptionist appeared and escorted her to Victoria Colby-Camp’s office, a large, elegant space with a wall of windows that overlooked the city from a prestigious Michigan Avenue address.

Eva had done an internet search on Victoria and her agency, but she hadn’t been adequately prepared for the sophisticated woman standing behind the beautiful mahogany desk, the wall of windows a stunning backdrop. She wore her salt-and-pepper hair in a French twist. The turquoise suit fit as if it had been tailored just for her. Probably had been. Though she was no taller than Eva, her presence was commanding. The most surprising part was how incredibly youthful and fit she looked. According to Google, Victoria Colby-Camp was nearing seventy. Eva could only hope she would look that good in another forty years.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eva.” Victoria smiled. “Please sit. Let’s take a moment to get acquainted.”

“Thank you.” Eva settled into one of the two champagne-colored upholstered chairs in front of Victoria’s desk.

“My intern, Jamie, will be joining us shortly,” Victoria said. “I’ve reviewed your file. You’re a nurse at the Edge. Dr. Pierce and I serve on Chicago’s civic committee together. The Edge is an incredible step toward elevating emergency care to the highest level. We’re all very proud and duly impressed by his advances in the field.”

Eva nodded. “Dr. Pierce is an amazing man. His methods are changing the landscape of emergency medicine.” The Edge was his brainchild. Whether it was a heart attack, a stroke or some sort of physical injury, the Edge was where everyone wanted to end up when an emergency occurred.

“You have family in the city?”

Eva smiled. Her first of the day. “An older sister, Lena. You may know her. She’s an investigative journalist at Channel 7.”

Victoria nodded. “I do, indeed. Lena Bowman is a household name in the city of Chicago.”

Eva nodded. “She was determined to become one for as long as I can remember.”

Victoria tilted her head ever so slightly, her expression turning somber. “I’ve also had an opportunity to review the Chicago PD’s file on what happened Friday night. It’s an outright miracle no hostages were killed. You and the others at the Edge handled yourselves extraordinarily well.”

Eva nodded in acknowledgment of her kind words. “Since you read the file you must know about Diego Robles’s death.”

“Captain Cyrus explained what happened. He’s very concerned that you’ve been approached and threatened. Dr. Pierce is immensely concerned as well. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what’s happening.”

As much as Eva had dreaded this part, somehow Victoria made her feel relaxed and comfortable—at least as comfortable as she could be under the circumstances. Eva started with what the second man who came into the bathroom on Friday night said to her. She moved on to the ones who’d shouted at her on the street on Saturday, the confrontation on Sunday, the visit at the ER last night and then to the carful of thugs who had followed her to the parking garage three blocks from here. Thankfully, they hadn’t yelled more threats at her...they’d only watched her. Their hateful eyes on her had been equally threatening.

Victoria studied Eva for a moment after she finished recounting the events of the past three days. “I have full confidence the police are watching Robles’s men, but they can’t watch every move each of his hundreds of followers make—not with the budget cuts they’ve suffered recently. You haven’t been assigned a protection detail for the same reason. Until a law is broken, the police can’t afford to shift the resources.”

“I might be dead by then.” Eva hated to say the words aloud but they were true.

“Which is why we’re here. We can fill that void.” Victoria folded her hands atop her desk. “Since Dr. Pierce and I are well acquainted, he asked that I assign the very best to your security and he insisted that I send the bill to him.”

“What?” Eva shook her head. She couldn’t have heard correctly. “I’m prepared to pay for the services I need.”

Victoria held up a hand. “I’m certain you are, Eva. But Dr. Pierce feels responsible. He would like to handle this and, frankly, he can easily afford to do so. Trust me, you should take him up on his generous offer.”

Eva wanted to argue, but Victoria was right. She had scratched together the retainer but she would be hard-pressed to come up with more than a week’s worth of the required fees. She wanted to be upset that Dr. Pierce had been brought into the financial aspect of this arrangement but she supposed it was the right thing to do. I know what you did. The note someone had left on his desk blotter flickered across her mind. She had no idea what the message meant or who left it. She had wanted to ask Dr. Pierce but with all that had happened that night and then the threats, she’d forgotten. In truth, she didn’t feel comfortable discussing it with him after his reaction that night. She wasn’t worried that he somehow felt she was involved or aware of who went into his office, but she couldn’t quite dispel the idea that he’d looked at her with doubt for just a moment.

“I suppose I can do that.”

Maybe when this business with Robles was behind her she would come clean and tell Dr. Pierce she’d lied about being in his office. God, Eva, you’re such an idiot. It would have been so much easier if she’d told the truth in the first place, but it had felt so awkward in that instant. As badly as she felt about that decision, she had far more serious issues with which to deal at present.

“Good.” Victoria picked up a manila folder on her desk and opened it. “When I assign one of my people to a case, I do all within my power to ensure I’m covering every possible need a client might have.”

The door opened and a woman walked in. Blond hair, blue eyes. She was tall and thin. Very young. High school, maybe a college freshman. As young as she was, she held herself in a regal manner that reminded Eva of Victoria.

“I apologize for the delay.” The girl smiled first at Victoria then at Eva. “I’m Jamie Colby.” She offered her hand to Eva.

Eva shook Jamie’s hand, noting the firm confidence in her grip.

“Eva, this is my granddaughter,” Victoria said, pride brimming in her tone. “She’s a sophomore at the University of Chicago and my intern two days a week.”

“You look so young,” Eva blurted before she could stop herself, “to have accomplished so much.”

“Jamie is quite special,” Victoria agreed.

Jamie smiled. “I took freshman classes my senior year of high school. It’s not so unusual that I’m eighteen and a sophomore and certainly not special.”

Her humility was refreshing. Eva said, “I’m certain your parents are very pleased.”

“They certainly are.” Victoria turned to Jamie. “All is in order?”

“It is,” Jamie assured her.

“As I was saying—” Victoria turned to Eva “—I take great pride in assigning the best person for the job. Since your bodyguard—”

“Bodyguard?” Eva expected an investigator to help with the Miguel Robles situation, not a bodyguard.

Victoria and Jamie shared a look before Victoria’s gaze settled on Eva once more. “We need to take this situation very seriously, Eva. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not already dead.”

Eva’s breath caught. She put her hand over her mouth too late to catch the sound.

“Ms. Bowman,” Jamie said, turning in her chair to face Eva, “I’ve done extensive research on the True Disciples. Miguel Robles raised his younger brother since their parents were murdered fifteen years ago. He thought of Diego as more of a son than a brother. Typically when crossed, Miguel wields vengeance far more quickly and concisely. The idea that you’re alive three days later tells us that he is planning to make some sort of example out of you. He wants you to know it’s coming. He wants to watch your fear build. He wants a large audience and rumor on the street is that all eyes are on you right now.”

Eva blinked repeatedly to hold back the rush of tears. “Wait, this is crazy. I didn’t mean to kill his brother. He attacked me... I...”

When Eva’s voice failed her, Victoria said, “I’m afraid it only gets worse. Chicago PD has a unit called Gang Intelligence. Though they cannot provide any measure of security for you, they are watching. If you want my honest opinion, they’re hoping Robles will come after you. If they can catch Miguel Robles in the act of trying to harm you, they can bring down a man who has slipped through their fingers repeatedly over the past two decades.”

Oh God. “I think I see the whole picture now.” Eve swallowed at the lump still lodged in her throat. “I’m bait. The police won’t protect me—not because of budget cuts—but because they want to get this guy.”

“In all fairness,” Victoria reminded her, “no law has been broken—more or less tying their hands. At this time all anyone has are rumors and suspicions, and resources are stretched too thin already. I fully believe the police are doing all they legally can.”

Jamie placed a warm hand over Eva’s ice-cold one. “But we can take up that slack.”

“Dr. Pierce has granted us full access to his facility,” Victoria explained. “We’d like to provide around-the-clock protection until this situation is neutralized.”

Round-the-clock? “Is that really necessary?” The moment the words left her lips she felt foolish for having said them.

Eva hadn’t expected this insanity to consume her life. Her sister had told her it was bad. She’d spent the past two nights with Eva. If all that Victoria said was true, Lena being close put her in danger as well. Eva suddenly felt immensely grateful that Lena’s boss had called about a hot-button issue in DC and wanted her there ASAP. Lena had nearly refused to go but Eva had promised she would be fine with the Colby Agency taking care of her. After considerable persuasion, her sister had reluctantly accepted the assignment. Eva now completely understood how important it was to keep Lena as far from this as possible...and to end this as quickly as possible.

“Okay,” Eva heard herself say. “When do I meet this bodyguard?”

“As Victoria explained,” Jamie cut in, “we take every precaution when making the selection. Your situation requires extensive training. The man we’ve chosen spent eight years in the military, six in the Army’s Special Forces. He is an expert in all manner of defense and protection. His extensive emergency medical training will allow a smooth transition into your workplace. He’s the perfect choice.”

Victoria nodded her agreement. “You couldn’t be in better hands.”

Eva’s head was still spinning. She could do this. It was necessary. Her boss understood. Lena would come unglued if Eva even thought of backing out of hiring the Colby Agency. This was the right step. Just do this. “All right. I’m ready to do whatever I have to.”

“Before we ask him in,” Victoria began.

Eva instinctively understood that something bad was coming.

“We’ve been made aware that there may be a stumbling block of sorts. Under normal circumstances,” Victoria went on, “I never make assignments when there are personal connections. Emotions can often get in the way.”

Eva shook her head. “I’m sorry. This is my first time here and I’m fairly confident I don’t know anyone at your agency.”

“Todd Christian.”

Eva’s head turned so quickly toward the woman seated next to her that her neck almost snapped. “Todd Christian?”

Impossible. Even as the word filtered through her, Eva comprehended it was not. Todd had gone straight from college into the military. She’d heard at some point later that he was in some sort of special something but she couldn’t remember what. She had spent the past nine years blocking every single thing about him from her brain. Todd Christian no longer existed as far as Eva was concerned. She had worked extremely hard to make that happen.

Jamie nodded. “He is the perfect choice.”

Eva shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.” She could not—would not—spend one minute much less 24/7 with him. No damned way.

Another of those looks passed between Victoria and her granddaughter.

“Todd thought you might feel that way,” Victoria offered. “Eva, let me just say that I’ve been doing this for a very long time.”

“A seriously long time,” Jamie echoed.

“I do not make a suggestion such as this lightly,” Victoria continued. “I ask that you put your personal feelings aside for a moment before you request an alternate choice. Toward that end, Todd has asked if he might speak with you privately before you make your final decision.”

“He’s here?” Stupid question. He worked here. Of course he would be somewhere on the floor. Eva felt the heat rise in her face and then, just as suddenly, the color drain away, leaving her as weak as a kitten. How could she face him? He was the last person on Earth she wanted to hear about her personal issues.

“With your permission, Jamie and I will wait in my private lobby while the two of you talk for a moment.”

“There must be someone else.” Eva shook her head again. This would never do. “You mentioned an alternate choice.”

Victoria set her hands palms down on her desk and stood. “I pride myself in hiring only the best, Eva. Of course, there are others, but no one who would fit as seamlessly into your world. To make sure you are protected in such a way that the enemy will not simply lay low until that protection ceases, we must ensure they are taken by surprise. The last thing we want is for Robles to step back and wait out your resources. This is the only way to guarantee the outcome you desire in the quickest manner.”

As crazy as it sounded, Eva had to admit that she could see her point. But could she do this? Could she allow him back into her life? Uncertainty and a new kind of fear coiled inside her like a snake ready to strike.

“I’ll speak to him.” Eva took a big breath. “I can at least do that.”

Victoria nodded. “Excellent.”

Jamie patted Eva on the hand and stood. “We’ll give you a few moments, but we’ll be right outside.”

Eva tried to smile but her lips wouldn’t make the transition.

When the door closed behind the two women, Eva stood and smoothed a wrinkle out of her sweater hem. Slow, deep breaths.

The door opened and she turned to face the man who had shattered her heart when she was barely old enough to understand what love was. He’d been a senior, she a freshman. She’d never lived anywhere but at home with her parents and sister until she moved into that college dormitory. Lena had gone to Europe for a year of studies abroad. And Eva had fallen madly, deeply in love with the man who taught her what a real orgasm felt like.

She might have been able to say the thirty-two-year-old man who walked into the room and closed the door behind him hadn’t changed one bit except that would be utterly and completely wrong. He seemed taller somehow, his shoulders even broader. Her gaze moved down his torso, over the ridges hidden behind the crisp blue oxford she knew all too well. The long sleeves ended at his wrists where the wide hands and blunt-tipped fingers that had touched her as if she was all that mattered in this world to him didn’t look as smooth as they once had. Long legs were camouflaged by navy trousers tailored to mold perfectly to the powerful muscles beneath. She blinked and shifted her gaze to the handsome face she’d dreamed of every night for years even after he left her. His face looked the slightest bit leaner, more angular, and there was a small scar on his right cheek. His lips...his pale, pale blue eyes—She shifted her gaze from his face. His brown hair was still more blond than brown and in need of a trim. So many little things had changed and yet her body reacted to his mere presence as if absolutely nothing were different. Fire licked a path along every nerve ending.

His lips—the ones that had instructed her in the true art of kissing—slid into a smile. “Eva... It’s good to see you.”

The hesitation after he said her name told her he was savoring it. Something else she’d yearned for night and day. The sound of his voice, the pull of every syllable he uttered. Chill bumps rose on her skin. The smile...the sound of his voice, his presence in the room even after all these years had the ability to make her nervous. Made her ache for things she couldn’t name.

Eva commanded the butterflies that had come to life in her stomach to go away. She stared directly into those gorgeous eyes of his. “Is it true, what they say? That you can protect me better than anyone else employed at the Colby Agency?”

“You have my word.”

Those four little words—damn him—sent another shiver racing over her too-hot skin. “I’ll need more than your word, Christian.” She refused to call him Todd. She could not. “You see, I learned long ago that your word is of little value.”

“I hurt you, Eva,” he confessed. “You haven’t forgiven me and maybe I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but if you’ll trust me now I swear on my life that I will take care of this for you. Let me do that. Please.”

The idea that she could spend the next few days making him damned miserable held some appeal. “Fine. I trust your boss. She says you’re the man for the job. We’ll see about that.”

“Good.”

She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Make sure you remember that once we walk out of this building I am the boss.”

He nodded his agreement, and just like that she jumped right out of the frying pan and into the fire.


Chapter Three (#uc162b7aa-c8af-540e-8dc2-b011e61824f0)

West Grace Street Apartments 5:50 p.m.

Eva didn’t want him close. She’d insisted on driving separately to her building. He hadn’t liked it but she’d given him no choice. He’d stayed right on her bumper on the drive from the agency to her address. Rather than warn him about the parking situation, she’d driven into the covered area for tenants and he’d had to fend for himself on the street. When he’d finally found a spot, he’d had to hurry to catch up to her before she reached the building.

Like it or not, that would not happen again. Next time they would be in the same vehicle together.

At the front entrance she entered the code for the door and walked in, letting go of the door as she did. The damned thing almost closed before Todd caught it. She didn’t look back, obviously unconcerned as to whether he made it inside.

He hadn’t really expected her to forgive him—not even after nearly ten years. Not ever, most likely. Under the circumstances he was hoping for some sort of cordiality or at least a temporary truce.

Inside, rather than going for the elevator, she headed to the door marked with the stairwell logo. No problem. He hefted his duffel onto one shoulder and followed her. His time in the service had taught him not to take his physical condition for granted. He stayed in the same shape he had when he’d been in active duty.

The climb to the third floor, however, gave him far too much time to focus on the sway of her hips. Someone else stayed in shape, he decided. He remembered her soft curves a little too well. Time had been good to her. She still looked like the nineteen-year-old he’d first met in the university library. He’d tried so damned hard to focus on the book he’d been reading for an English paper, only he couldn’t stop looking at her over the top of the page. She had the blondest hair, still did. Every sweet hair on her gorgeous body was naturally blond. Her skin was the creamiest white, like porcelain. And those eyes, so green. When she smiled or got angry they shimmered like emeralds under a waterfall.

She exited the stairwell on the third floor, again without looking back or saying a word to him. He followed. This was another part they had to get straight. He went through any door first. She stayed close and behind him, preferably.

He imagined the real trouble was going to be in getting her to cooperate when he explained that she might be the boss but he was in charge.

At the door to her apartment he stepped in front of her. “I go in first.” He held out his hand.

She dropped the key into his palm and stepped back. He unlocked the door and moved inside. He’d looked at the floor plans for her building. She had a one-bedroom. The entry door opened into a small hall. The living and dining space along with the kitchen were an L-shape, and then another tiny hall with doors to a linen closet, the bedroom and the bath. No balcony, but she did have two large windows. He motioned for her to come inside, but she didn’t. She stared at the door across the hall.

“Something wrong?”

She shook her head. “Guess not.” She gestured to the door she’d been staring at. “I thought my neighbor was going out of town.” With a shrug she turned to her own door and stepped inside.

Todd closed and locked it. “Stay put until I have a look around.”

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

The large window overlooking the street allowed plenty of light into the room. He was surprised there were no blinds or curtains. The Eva he had known before had been very shy and private. Another of those things that had attracted him. He was glad to see an upholstered sofa rather than leather since it would serve as his bed. A small cocktail table stood in front of the sofa and a side table sat between two comfortable-looking chairs. The upholstery and the throw pillows were soft, muted shades of blues and greens and yellows. A rug in the center of the room was scattered with two larger pillows. Didn’t take much to imagine her on the floor curled up with a good book. Back in college she’d enjoyed reading romance novels when she wasn’t studying. He’d often teased her about her secret hobby.

The kitchen was tiny with an even tinier dining area. Updated three-piece bath with lots of that subway tile people went gaga over. Big mirrors that made the space look a tad larger and more of those little bursts of color that adorned the main living space. He opened the door to the bedroom and the scent of her assaulted him and made him weak. The large window in this intimate space was covered with thick curtains, ensuring the room was dark. He flipped on a light, checked the closet that overflowed with clothes and shoes and then turned to go. The unmade bed and the nightshirt tossed onto the tousled covers made him hesitate.

Selfishly, he experienced a sense of satisfaction at the untouched second pillow on the bed. He scanned the walls and other surfaces for photos or signs of a boyfriend. The only photographs were of her and her sister, Lena, and their parents. Their father had died the year before Eva started college. She had still been struggling with the loss when they were together.

“Are you finished yet?”

He pivoted toward her voice, surprised she’d gotten as far as the door without him noticing. Distraction is dangerous. He knew better. “The apartment is clear.”

“I noticed.” She executed an about-face and stormed away.

Todd heaved a disgusted breath and plowed his hand through his hair. This might not be as easy as he’d thought. He had foolishly hoped they might be able to make amends. That maybe he and Eva could be friends now that he was back in Chicago. Guess not.

He exited the bedroom and took the few short steps to the kitchen. This place was considerably smaller than it looked when he reviewed the building’s floor plan. Spending a lot of time here with her would prove less than comfortable. She opened cabinet door after cabinet door, then rummaged in the refrigerator, obviously looking for something to eat.

“We could have dinner delivered,” he suggested.

She looked at him over the fridge door. “Yogurt and crackers are fine with me.”

He gritted his teeth and restrained any response for a moment. Her plan was obvious—make him as miserable as possible. No problem. He deserved it. “Sounds awesome.”

She blinked but not fast enough to cover her surprise. A carton of yogurt and an apple in hand, she left the fridge, grabbed a box of crackers from a cabinet and carried her haul to the counter.

He tossed his duffel on the sofa and watched as she carefully sliced her apple and arranged it on a plate, then added a handful of small crackers. With yogurt spooned into the center, she sprinkled a few walnuts on top. Spoon and plate in hand, she carried both to the made-for-two dining table. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, grabbed a napkin and then took a seat.

Todd ignored her indifference and made himself at home. He grabbed a plate, rummaged for a butter knife, found peanut butter and proceeded to slather it onto as many of the small crackers as the plate would hold. He added an apple, not bothering to slice it, poured a glass of water and then joined her at the small table.

“Looks like you predicted Lena’s future correctly.” He stuffed a cracker into his mouth, hoping the protein in the peanut butter would satisfy him. He was starving.

Eva licked the yogurt from her spoon. He stared at his plate, then went for the apple. Anything to avoid watching her tongue slide around on that spoon.

“Channel 7 loves her. The viewers love her.” Eva nibbled on a cracker. “I’m really proud of her.”

Todd knocked back a long swallow of water before placing his glass back on the table. “You haven’t done so bad yourself. Pierce raved about you to Victoria.”

“I’m happy.” She reached for an apple slice.

She didn’t ask about his career or whether he was happy or if his brother Kevin was okay. The only part that surprised him was Kevin. His brother had been just a toddler when their father abandoned them. Their mother had died a few months earlier and there was no known extended family. Kevin had been adopted quickly, but Todd hadn’t been so lucky. He’d spent the next twelve years of his life in foster homes. It wasn’t until college that his little brother found him. They’d been damned close since. Eva was the only woman he’d ever taken to Christmas dinner with Kevin. He had loved her. She always asked about Kevin after that...at least until Todd left. Then again, he couldn’t really hold that against her since he hadn’t exactly been around for her when her mother died. He pushed the sensitive memory away.

The rest of the not-so-yummy and definitely not-filling meal was consumed without conversation. She rinsed her plate and placed it in the dishwasher. He pushed in his chair and followed her lead with the cleanup. “If only we had dessert.”

She didn’t smile. Instead she walked to the cabinets, put the crackers away and withdrew a tub of cake frosting. She shoved it at him. “Chocolate. Enjoy.”

Really? He put the frosting back in the cabinet and joined her in the living room. Since she obviously had no desire to catch up, he might as well move on to business. “How much do you know about the True Disciples?”

She curled up in one of the two chairs and started channel surfing with the sound muted. “Only what the police told me.”

He took the other seat. Since she kept the volume off he viewed that as an invitation to talk. “Miguel Robles’s father, Jorge, immigrated to Chicago in the ’80s. He became deeply involved in the Latin Disciples. About fifteen years ago, there was a falling-out between Jorge and the leader of the Latin Disciples. Jorge walked away, starting his own band of merry men. Five years later, Jorge found himself facing cancer, so he started the transition of power to Miguel. A decade from now Miguel, since he has no children of his own, would likely have been doing the same with Diego.”

With her sister’s channel on the screen, Eva set the remote aside and turned her attention to Todd. “He sees me as the person who not only stole his younger brother’s life but also as the person who turned his entire future upside down.”

The situation was far graver than she understood. “Avenging Diego’s death is a matter of honor, Eva. Whatever else happens, he has no choice but to kill you or lose face. Personally, I don’t understand why the police didn’t take you into protective custody.”

She glared at him as if he’d offended her. “Your boss said there aren’t enough resources to go around.”

Victoria was right about that part, but the sheer enormity of the situation should have prompted a stronger reaction. Not that he was suggesting the police didn’t want to stop Miguel, but sometimes he wondered if their priorities were in order.

“That’s true,” he admitted. “But some cases fall outside the parameters of the norm. Those cases should be evaluated differently. Yours, in my humble opinion, is one of those cases.”

She laughed. “You’ve never been humble in your life.” With that announcement, she pushed up from her chair and walked to the window.

Maybe there was a time when her pronouncement was true, but not anymore. He hesitated only a moment before joining her. On the street below the traffic was heavy. The neighborhood was a nice one. Towering, mature trees lined the street. Much-desired shopping and restaurants were only a few blocks away. He’d driven past her building more than once since his return to Chicago last year. Mentioning that too-telling fact would hardly be a good thing, he decided.

“I’m sure you’re aware that the police see you as their first real opportunity to get this guy.”

She nodded. “Your boss mentioned it.”

“I can understand how much they want him and the idea that using you as bait somehow serves the greater good, but I’m not them. My job is to protect you at all costs.”

She glanced at him, the worry in her eyes tugging at his gut.

“So let’s not make you an easy target by standing in front of this window.” He touched her arm. She stiffened but he curled his fingers around the soft limb anyway and gently tugged her back to the pair of chairs they had deserted.

Rather than sit down, she stared up at him. She searched his eyes, worry clouding hers. “Do you really believe you can stop him?” She licked her lips, drawing his attention there. He remembered her taste as vividly as if he’d only just kissed her. “That all by yourself,” she said, dragging him from the forbidden memory, “you can somehow do what the police haven’t been able to do in what? A decade?”

No matter the seriousness of her question, this close he almost smiled at the small sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks. She had hated those tiny freckles and he had loved them. This close he noticed there was a line or two on her gorgeous face that hadn’t been there before, but those fine lines only added to her beauty. He wanted her to trust him. He desperately wanted her to believe in him again. Whatever else she thought of him, he would never lie to her. He hadn’t lied all those years ago and he wasn’t about to start now.

“First, I don’t operate by the same rules as the police. Giving them grace, their hands are tied to some degree by the very laws they’ve sworn to uphold. Second, I can’t promise I’ll be able to stop Robles, but I can promise that I’ll die trying.”

* * *

EVA PULLED FREE of his touch and turned away from him. She couldn’t bear the way he looked at her...as if he truly cared. Of course he probably possessed some basic human compassion for her as a person but otherwise she was nothing more than an assignment and maybe a potential opportunity for sexual release. Not that finding willing women would be an issue for him—it hadn’t been a decade ago and it certainly wouldn’t be now. He was still incredibly handsome and far too charming.

She closed her eyes. So not fair, Eva. She didn’t know the man standing in her apartment right now. She knew the college guy he used to be. The super hot guy who seemed to show up in the library every Tuesday and Thursday evening just like she had. The guy with the beautiful lean, muscled body and scruffy, thick hair that made her want to twine her fingers in it while she traced every line and ridge of his healthy male body with her other hand. The guy who stole her heart and ruined her for anyone else.

Not once in ten years had she been kissed the way Todd Christian kissed her. Not a single time in the last decade had another man—not that there had been very many—made love to her the way Todd Christian had.

Eva hugged her arms around herself. What kind of fool permitted that guy back into her life?

A desperate one.

A splat, splat, splat echoed in the room. The window rattled in its frame. Eva instinctively backed up, her body bumping into his. Rivulets of red rained down from a cloud of red in the center of the window.

Todd pulled her behind the chairs. “Stay down while I have a look.”

He moved across the room and took a position next to the window, out of sight from whoever was out there firing something at her window. Eva peeked around the chair and studied the damage to the window. It didn’t appear broken or cracked. The splats looked like the ones made by a paintball gun.

Was this just another warning from the man who wanted his revenge?

“We need something to cover this window.”

Todd was suddenly standing over her, holding out his hand. She ignored it and stood. “I have extra sheets in the linen closet.”

He nodded. “You round those up while I give Detective Marsh an update.”

“Are you working with the police?” She didn’t know why she was surprised. The Colby Agency was a prominent firm. Her internet research had indicated that Victoria was known and respected by everyone who was anyone in Chicago. She’d been voted woman of the year more than once.

“Just keeping them up to speed on what’s going on. If I play nice, hopefully they’ll do the same for me.”

She nodded. Made sense. While he spoke to the detective she went to the bathroom. She’d tried really hard the past few days to stay strong. To keep it together. The first day, Saturday, hadn’t been so bad. Her sister had kept her mind off the horror of the previous night until Eva went unconscious from sheer exhaustion.

In the bathroom, she closed the door and sagged against it. But then the threats had begun. Eva was so thankful when Lena was sent out of town. No matter that her sister had wanted to stay and had insisted that she dove into the fray of danger every time she walked onto a hot news scene, this was different. Eva was the target. She felt certain this Miguel Robles would like nothing better than to use her sister to hurt her. At least she didn’t have to worry so much about that part right now. Lena would be in Washington, DC, for several days.

With her sister safely out of reach, Eva could focus on keeping herself alive.

The memory of her neighbor’s door nagged at her. Mrs. Cackowski had mentioned going to New York to visit her daughter. The plan was she would leave today and spend the upcoming Mother’s Day weekend with her daughter and her family. She would fly back next Tuesday. Mrs. Cackowski said flying on Tuesdays was cheaper. Eva wasn’t entirely sure that was true but the idea appeared to make the older lady happy.

The trouble was, the No Solicitors magnet was not on her door. Mrs. Cackowski and Eva had a routine. Whenever her neighbor was away from home, whether for the day or for a week, she put the magnet on her door. When she returned, it was removed. This way, even if Eva missed talking to her she knew to keep an eye on the elderly woman’s apartment. She usually left a key with Eva so she could water her plants if it was an extended vacation, but not this time.

Maybe her neighbor’s flight had been changed at the last minute. If Mrs. Cackowski would break down and get a cell phone, Eva could call and check with her. She should probably call the property manager and tell him about the red paint—or whatever it was—all over her window. The two windows in her apartment didn’t open so it wasn’t like she could clean it up herself. Since she faced the street her neighbors wouldn’t be happy about the unsightly mess.

A knock on the door had her jumping away from it. “You okay in there?”

Eva put her hand to her throat. “Fine. I just need a moment.”

She went to the sink and turned on the water. How was she supposed to deal with all this? Her actions had caused a man’s death. Shouldn’t she feel something besides empty and cold about it by now? Last night a patient had required a psychological consult. After the doctor had assessed the patient, Eva had spoken to the psychiatrist briefly about what happened to her. He’d warned that she was in the shock and denial phase right now. In time the reality would hit and she might fall apart.

Start counseling now, he’d warned.

Like every other nurse and doctor she knew, the last person she wanted to spend time fixing was herself. It was far easier to take care of everyone else’s problems. Funny how she’d worked so hard and long to keep her life simple. Work, eat, sleep and repeat. Once in a great while she bothered with dating.

How had her simple existence turned so suddenly complicated?

Maybe the shrink had been right about the shock and denial. She had pretty much been attempting to pretend Friday night never happened. She might have been successful if not for the continued threats.

After splashing some water on her face, she reached for the hand towel and dabbed her skin dry. At this point she didn’t know if she had enough time left to reach the reality phase.

She could be dead before then.


Chapter Four (#uc162b7aa-c8af-540e-8dc2-b011e61824f0)

Wednesday, May 9, 8:15 a.m.

Eva scarcely slept at all. Between worrying about what the gang leader Miguel Robles might do next and the idea that Todd Christian was on her sofa, how could she hope to sleep? At some point after two this morning, she’d finally drifted to sleep only to dream about being chased by killers. She’d jerked awake in a cold sweat to the sound of the shower.

For the next several minutes she’d battled with her errant mind and its inability to control the wellspring of images involving Todd Christian naked in her shower. When he’d finished and she was certain he’d moved to the kitchen, she reluctantly headed to the bathroom. With the water as hot as she could bear it, she still couldn’t wash away the scent of him...it clung to the tile walls, to the bar of homemade soap a friend had given her, insisting that no bodywash on the planet could compete. Despite rinsing the soap thoroughly, simply smoothing the bar over her skin aroused her. Shivers tumbled over her skin with every slow stroke. Her nipples hardened with the sweet ache of need and she once again found herself fighting to keep memories of their lovemaking at bay. How could those memories still be so vivid? So intoxicating?

Todd Christian was like an addictive drug. And like the wrong kind of drug, he was bad for her.

By the time she turned off the water she felt ready to explode with tension. Taking her time, she dried her skin and then her hair. By the time she finished, she had gone from the edge of orgasm to teeth-grinding frustration.

This arrangement was not going to work. No way, no how.

Shoulders squared, purple Wednesday scrubs and her most comfortable nursing clogs on, she walked into the kitchen to tell the bane of her existence he had to sleep somewhere else. She could not have him in her apartment like this. There had to be some other arrangement. Might as well get it over with now and salvage what little sanity she had left. The sooner, the better.

“Good morning.” He smiled and saluted her with his coffee mug. “I scrambled a few eggs and popped in some toast while you were showering. Hope you don’t mind.”

If the scent of the freshly made toast and the coffee hadn’t distracted her, she might have been able to hang on to her determination. Instead, her need for fuel took over and she decided she would tell him this wasn’t going to work as soon as she ate. Why let the food get cold? The least she could do was be civil. If she let her frustration show she would only look immature. She would die before she allowed him to see how easily he could still get to her.

“Morning.” She poured a cup of coffee and reached for a slice of toast.

The sheets they’d tacked up over the living room window last night blocked the morning light she usually enjoyed. The lack of natural light was a stark reminder that her life was a mess. She had killed a man.

She sagged against the counter. Didn’t matter that she hadn’t meant to kill him; he was dead just the same. Nineteen years old. A damn kid.

“Don’t go there, Eva.”

She blinked, his voice pulling her from the troubling thoughts. “I... I was just thinking about work.”

He shook his head. “You were thinking about what happened in that bathroom on Friday night. The pain was written all over your face.”

How the hell could he still read her so well all these years later? It wasn’t fair. Just another reason he had to go. Today. She absolutely could not allow him back into her life. She’d thought she could handle this situation, but she couldn’t. It was impossible. Unrealistic.

“You don’t know me anymore, Todd.” She set her cup aside and grabbed one of the two plates he’d placed on the counter. She raked a few eggs into the plate and snagged a fork. “I’m not the same naive young girl I was ten years ago.”





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/debra-webb/finding-the-edge/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.