- -
- 100%
- +
Stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets, he slid her a sideways glance. She didn’t look like the type to consort with gang members. She looked too innocent, too decent with those wide, hazel eyes, that lush and tempting mouth. Her thick hair gleamed in the twilight, streaks of sorrel and mahogany mixed with the chestnut brown. But after her reckless dash into the street—defying bullets to save that kid—he could imagine her doing something foolhardy and ticking them off.
But who she was, what the gang wanted from her—none of that mattered to him. It couldn’t. He’d already interfered in her life enough. He’d just accompany her to her shelter, make sure she and the kid got inside safely and leave. He refused to get more involved.
They reached her row house a minute later, and the pregnant teenager rushed up the steps. Sully hung back, taking in the freshly painted black shutters, the pale yellow bricks of the facade. Pumpkins lined the porch. An autumn wreath hung on the door. The place was an anomaly on the rundown street, an oasis of cheerfulness and warmth. But he guessed that was the point of a shelter. The small plaque beneath the wreath read Always Home.
She paused on the step above him and turned around. “I’m sorry. I never introduced myself. I’m more rattled than I thought. I’m Haley. Haley Barnes.”
For a moment, he couldn’t answer. Her greenish-brown eyes held him spellbound, the lilt of her voice derailing his thoughts. His heart sped up, the sudden punch of adrenaline catching him off guard.
But then the door swung open behind her. She turned and hurried up the remaining steps. Stunned at his reaction, he followed more slowly, trying to wrap his head around what had occurred. What the hell was he thinking? Sure, she was pretty. And even though he deserved to be, he wasn’t exactly dead.
But this woman was beyond off-limits. She came from a different world. And the last thing she needed in her life was a man like him—a washed-up, wounded ex-soldier, an alcoholic plagued with flashbacks, a man so haunted by his failures that he could barely make it through the night, let alone take care of her.
Shaking himself back to his senses, he stepped over the threshold into the room. The shelter had the same layout as Jason’s row house, but the similarities ended there. This place had gleaming hardwood floors, a banked fire smoldering in the fireplace, the embers glowing red and orange. Oversize armchairs surrounded the fireplace. A basket of pinecones sat on the hearth. Beneath the window was an inviting sofa, piled high with faded quilts. The place even smelled appealing, like cinnamon and pumpkin pie.
Always Home. She’d created a home, all right, a cozy refuge for the teenage girls. The kind of place he had no right to after that debacle in the desert sand.
He shifted his gaze, taking in the half-dozen girls clustered by a wooden staircase—all pregnant, all young, their eyes too knowing for their tender age. Like the kids he’d seen in Afghanistan. They’d had those same half-dead, traumatized eyes.
“We need to leave,” Haley told the girls. “Right away, before that gang comes back. Gather your things and meet me back here. Fast.” Her voice was soft and calm, but authoritative—the voice of a woman used to taking charge. And the girls obeyed without question, racing up the staircase while she pulled out her phone.
“You have somewhere to go?” he asked, catching her gaze.
She nodded, but a small crease marred her brow. “There’s another shelter near here. I’m calling them now to see if they have room.”
Sully crossed his arms and waited while she murmured into the phone. In less time than he’d expected, the girls traipsed back down the stairs. They all traveled light, each carrying a single knapsack slung over their backs.
A siren broke out in the distance. A second later, another one joined in. Haley pocketed her cell phone and turned to the girls. “All right. Is everyone here?”
The teenagers murmured assent.
“Good. I want to get out of here before the police show up.”
Sully didn’t blame her. The cops would descend in droves. They’d cordon off the street and canvass the neighbors, questioning everyone multiple times. He’d resigned himself to the scrutiny; he could hardly avoid it since his pistol shell casings littered the road. But Haley couldn’t afford the delay. She needed to get those kids to safety before the gang regrouped.
“We need to stick together,” she continued. “It’s not far, just a few blocks. Walk as quietly and quickly as you can.”
Sully’s head came up. “Wait a minute. You don’t have a car?”
Her gaze swung to his. “It’s in the shop. They’re going to meet us by the bridge and take us there.”
Frowning, he rubbed his bristly jaw. He didn’t like this. They’d be too exposed on foot. They’d been lucky enough to survive the first attack with just one kid in tow. An entire group of pregnant teenagers made them sitting ducks.
“I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“The hell it isn’t. What if that gang shows up?”
Her face paled, but she raised her chin. “We’ll deal with it. You’ve done enough. I appreciate your help, a lot. But—”
“I’m armed, and you’re not. You need somebody to guard your back. Now, let’s get going. We’re wasting time.”
Doubt flickered in her eyes. She glanced at the girls and back, clearly reluctant to agree. But then she gave him a nod. “Fine. Thanks.”
He knew she didn’t want to involve him. And who could blame her? Who’d want a derelict like him around? But he had to give her points. She did what she needed to protect the girls.
Or she knew more about that gang than she’d let on.
She turned back to the pregnant teens. “Let’s go, then. We’ll leave through the back.”
Careful to keep his distance, Sully followed the girls through the kitchen to the fenced-in patio, then waited while she locked the door. She paused to embrace Lindsey, then murmured something to another teen, evoking a shaky smile.
The girls liked her, he realized. And why not? There was something comforting about her. She was gentle and warm, but in a take-charge sort of way. She radiated confidence, reassurance. She was the kind of woman they knew they could depend on, a woman who’d confronted a gang to save their lives. No wonder she drew them in.
Without warning, a wistfulness rose inside him, a yearning to bask in that soothing warmth. To forget the past, forget the evil lurking in the world, to feel whole and happy again.
Shocked, he pulled himself upright. What was wrong with him tonight? That gunfire hadn’t only triggered a flashback, it had knocked something loose in his head. Maybe once upon a time, he could have pursued her. Maybe before he’d lost his illusions. Maybe before he’d gone to war.
But not now. Not ever. He hardened his jaw, determined to keep his focus on what mattered—getting her and those kids to safety fast. Then he’d head back into exile where he belonged.
Before he succumbed to his sudden insanity and lost what little remained of his common sense.
* * *
Haley led the way out the back gate and through the alley, her senses sharp, the persistent feeling of danger mounting with every step. She scoured the deep shadows blanketing the tomb-like lane, the bushes frothing in the cold, night breeze. The sirens began to draw closer, the eerie sound ratcheting her tension up another notch, adding to the urge to flee.
But she had to give the girls credit. No one complained. No one panicked or lagged behind. They padded along in silence, the faint crunch of dried leaves under their feet the only sound. Now if she could just get them to that van in time....
She stole a quick glance back at their protector looming behind the girls. He walked with a decided limp, his steps amazingly stealthy despite his size. An ex-soldier, without a doubt. Possibly suffering from post-traumatic stress, given his reaction to the attack—sweating, shaking, his entire body bristling with the need to bolt.
She turned around with a sigh. She hated involving him in her problems. He’d already risked his life enough—and he’d clearly wanted to leave. But frankly, she needed his help. She had the lives of six pregnant teenagers on her hands, not to mention their unborn babes.
And she had to admit that he intrigued her. That naked longing she’d glimpsed in his eyes—that hint of vulnerability he’d quickly masked—had aroused every nurturing instinct she possessed. He was an enigma, a strong, taciturn man wrapped in a body that vibrated with sexual hunger—nearly impossible to resist.
But she definitely had to resist him. She had no business thinking about Sully Turner that way. She had nothing to offer a man like him long-term. Short-term, either, if her nightmares had come true and her past had caught up to her at last.
She stopped at the end of the alley and waited for the girls to catch up. Her apprehension growing, she glanced around, wondering if she’d made a mistake. She thought they’d have time to escape before the gang returned. But what if they didn’t? What if the gang came back sooner than she’d anticipated and caught them out here alone? Even with Sully providing cover, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
The girls formed a circle around her, waiting for instructions. The wind blew hard, and she shivered inside her wool coat. “Okay, listen up.” She didn’t want to scare them, but she had to make sure they understood. “There’ll be a white panel van waiting on the corner of Massachusetts Avenue. I don’t think anything will happen, but if it does, if you hear gunshots or we get separated for any reason, just run to the van. Don’t look back. Don’t wait for me. As soon as you’re all there, just go. I’ll catch up later. All right?”
The girls murmured their agreement, but she could sense their dismay. “Don’t worry.” Giving them each a hug, she did her best to keep them calm. “We’re all going to be fine.” She hoped. She’d never forgive herself if they came to harm.
Letting the girls precede her, she fell in beside Sully at the rear. They crossed the road at the corner market and continued up a quiet side street, past an empty lot. A car drove by, quickening her pulse, but it didn’t stop. A city bus lumbered past, heading the opposite way. But still no sign of the gang.
They made it to another cross street and started up the following block. The street was residential, the faint light from the row houses casting a gleam across their path. She slid Sully a glance, taking in the jut of his rugged jaw, the leashed power in his muscled frame, the intensity in his eyes as he scanned the street. Thank goodness he’d come along. Even with the odds against them, he made her feel less exposed.
The road curved. She spotted the white panel van, just one more block ahead. Almost there. She opened her mouth to say so, but gunfire suddenly broke out, the sharp reports shattering the calm. Sully whipped out his gun and spun around. “Run!”
The teenagers scattered at once. Frantic to protect them, Haley raced after them up the street. More shots rang out and she put on a burst of speed, praying they’d make it to the van in time. Up ahead, the fastest girls leaped inside.
Just three more kids to go.
But then, Lindsey stumbled and fell, landing on the pavement with an anguished cry. Haley darted over and pulled her up.
“I’m fine,” the girl gasped, staggering upright. Another shot erupted, and she let out a panicked shriek.
“Go!” Haley urged, and the teenager sprinted away. But where was Sully? Had he been hit? She whirled on her heels to see.
Then he charged toward her out of the darkness and seized her arm. “Over here! Come on!”
Still gripping her biceps, he dragged her toward an alley behind a house. Haley caught a glimpse of Lindsey at the corner, climbing into the van. The passenger door slid shut, and the van roared off into the night. The girls were safe, thank God. But she and Sully were exposed now, the gang in full pursuit.
She raced with him down the alley, their footsteps hammering the ground. Her lungs heaved. Her thigh muscles burned, but she forced herself to go on. Then Sully jerked her to a halt, dragging her behind a Dumpster along the fence. “Stay here.”
“What? No way. You’re not fighting them alone.” Not after she’d caused this mess.
“You’re not armed. Just stay put, and I’ll be right back.” Not waiting for an answer, he crept away.
Clinging to the Dumpster, she gasped for breath. She wasn’t about to let him face that gang without her, no matter what he thought.
But he was right about the weapon. She wouldn’t do any good unarmed. Standing on her tiptoes, she lifted the lid on the Dumpster and peered inside, but all she could make out in the darkness were mounds of plastic bags.
The rapid thud of approaching footsteps reached her ears. Not Sully. The steps were too even. They lacked his distinctive limp.
Her desperation surging, she searched the shadows around the Dumpster for a way to defend herself. She spotted a two-by-four and picked it up, then flattened herself against the metal container to wait.
Her palms began to sweat. Her heartbeat ran completely amok. She listened intently, every sense focused on the person coming her way.
The footsteps slowed. She held her breath, keeping her body completely still. Then a man stepped into view, holding a gun. Knowing she’d only have one chance, one split second to surprise him and knock him out, she raised the board, then slammed it against his skull. A sickening crack rent the night. Pain radiated up her arms, and she bit down hard on a moan. The man sank to the pavement, his body limp. His pistol skidded away.
But more footsteps pounded nearby, the sudden flurry of activity jump-starting her pulse. She lifted the board again, preparing to strike.
“It’s me,” Sully called out. A second later, he emerged from the darkness and limped to her side.
Her breath rushed out. She staggered to the Dumpster and slumped against it, dizzy with relief. “What happened?”
“They’re gone. There were only a couple of them this time, and I chased them off.”
“Not all of them.” She gestured to the man on the ground.
“Hell.” His eyes shot to hers. “Are you all right?”
Pressing a hand to her chest, she gave him a nod. “Just winded.” And her arm ached. “He dropped his gun. I’m not sure where it went.”
He held her gaze for a heartbeat, his expression impossible to read in the dusky night. Then he turned away and searched the ground. “Here it is.” He retrieved the gun, then dropped to one knee beside her attacker and rolled him onto his back.
“He’s not dead, is he?” Even though he’d intended to harm her, she hated to think that she’d killed the man.
“No, just unconscious. You recognize him?”
She tossed aside the board and stepped closer, trying to make out his features in the dark. He looked young, not much older than the girls in her shelter, with light-colored hair and skin. Blood trickled down his jaw toward a dark form writhing across his neck. “Is that a snake tattoo?”
“Looks like it.”
“Then he’s a member of the Ridgewood gang. That’s one of their signs.”
Sully grunted. He checked the gang member’s pockets, unearthing a wicked-looking knife, several magazines for the handgun and a cell phone. He tucked the weapons into his pockets and rose, then turned on the phone and checked the calls.
Suddenly, he went stock-still.
“What is it?” Her apprehension rising, she searched his face.
His gaze cut to hers, the sudden suspicion in his eyes jolting her heart. “What did you say your name was?”
“Haley Barnes.”
“Not Burroughs?”
Her lungs stopped dead. Burroughs. No one had called her that in years. Fifteen years, to be exact. Fifteen terrifying years spent running for her life. But how would the gang know her name?
“I...I go by Barnes now. But Burroughs...” She tried to swallow, but failed. “That used to be my name. Why do you ask?”
Sully’s gaze stayed on hers. Several charged seconds crawled past. Dread pounded inside her, so fierce she could hardly breathe.
Then Sully held up the cell phone for her to see. “This guy got a text message. There’s a reward for the capture of Haley Burroughs—and it’s double if you’re brought in dead.”
Chapter 3
She had a price on her head.
Haley jogged down the alley beside Sully, the revelation making her reel. That shooting hadn’t been random. They’d targeted her specifically. Her. Haley Burroughs.
They knew who she really was.
And they’d put a bounty on her head. Now every criminal on the east coast would be gunning for her to claim the prize. And if that weren’t bad enough, she was more valuable dead than alive.
Sully slowed to a walk and she followed suit, trying to come to grips with that awful thought. “So what’s going on?” he asked.
She glanced at his steely face, knowing she had to explain. He’d rescued the girls. He’d risked his life for her. Twice. She’d swept him into this lethal mess, painting a gang target on his back—and all because he’d tried to help.
“This can’t be a typical turf war if they’re after you,” he added.
She pressed her hand to her belly to quiet her nerves. “You’re right. It’s not.” It was far, far worse. Her past had come back to haunt her. Her worst fear had just come true.
“It’s complicated,” she hedged.
“Try me.”
Hesitating, she looked away. She never revealed her past. She’d concealed her identity and stayed on the run for years. And even though she’d thought the danger had finally passed, that it was safe to return to the mid-Atlantic area, she still used a pseudonym and stayed out of the limelight in case someone recognized her.
But she could trust this man. He’d leaped into the path of danger, putting his life on the line on her behalf. And she owed him the truth after all he’d done.
But first they needed to find a place to hide. They couldn’t stay on the street, exposed. Her shelter would do no good; the gang would have it staked out. And neither could they join the teenagers and risk leading the danger to them.
She caught Sully’s gaze. “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you. But we need to find a taxi first. A friend of mine lives in Baltimore with her fiancé, and I need to let them know what’s going on.”
“Baltimore? That’s forty miles away.”
“I know. The fare’s going to be through the roof. But they’re involved in this, too. And my friend’s fiancé is a cop. We can talk while we’re on the way.”
He frowned at that. She didn’t blame him if he wanted to bolt. He probably regretted setting eyes on her considering the disaster she’d mired him in.
“A cop, huh?”
“Yes. His name’s Parker McCall. He’s a detective with the Baltimore Police Department.” A sudden thought gave her pause. “Is that a problem?”
His gaze snapped to hers. “You think I’m a criminal?”
“No, of course not.” She trusted her instincts about people. She’d had to as a runaway if she’d hoped to survive. And whatever tormented Sully was inside him. Deep inside. If he was fleeing, it was from himself.
He plowed his hand through his shaggy hair. “All right. I’ll go with you.”
“Good.” She started across the street. “We can catch a taxi at the Colonial Hotel. It’s just a few blocks from here.”
Inhaling, she tried to regroup. She eyed the traffic whizzing past, the people standing across the street, waiting for the metro bus. The normality of the scene felt bizarre. They’d barely lived through a gun battle, and yet the world went on unaffected with people continuing their usual lives.
But she couldn’t let the peacefulness fool her. She had the Ridgewood gang hunting her down. Someone was determined to see her dead. But was it really that long-ago killer? How could he have discovered her name?
“If I’m right,” she finally began, “this goes back to when I was a teenager. When I ran away from home.”
Sully turned his head. “You were a runaway?”
“Yes.” She picked up her pace, as if walking faster could help her escape the past. But she could never outrun that painful time—pregnant, her parents insisting on an abortion, her boyfriend unwilling to help raise the child. So she’d run away, determined to keep the baby, convinced she could make it on her own.
She’d been wrong. Her baby had paid the price.
So had she.
But Sully didn’t need to know all that. And it didn’t matter now. She’d come a long way since then. She was no longer that naive girl. “I was fifteen. It was tough.”
“I’ll bet.”
She slanted him a glance. He’d obviously seen enough of the streets to know. “I got lucky, though. I met two other girls. We stayed together for protection and became best friends. We still are.”
They stopped to wait for a red light. “Go on,” he said in his rusty voice.
The light changed to green, and she stepped into the street. “One of those girls was Brynn, the friend we’re going to see. She had a camera she always carried around. She wanted to be a photographer, even then. She’d decided to take some pictures of an abandoned warehouse. We tried to talk her out of it. Baltimore didn’t have many gangs back then, but there was one, the City of the Dead, and they ruled the neighborhood where the warehouse was. But we couldn’t convince her to stay away.
“Nadine and I went with her, but I was scared so we waited on the street outside.” A mistake she’d regretted ever since.
She swallowed hard, her belly tightening at the memory, but she forced herself to go on. “We were right to worry. She stumbled across a crime scene, a gang execution. She caught it on film.”
“They saw her?” Sully guessed.
She nodded. “They chased her. They chased us all.”
“So you saw them, too?”
“No. Brynn came flying out of the warehouse, shouting at us to run, so we did. I didn’t look back. And then I heard shots....”
Lost in the gruesome memory, she tripped. Sully lunged over and steadied her arm. She glanced up at his face, intending to thank him, but for an instant, his dark gold eyes held her riveted, the sheer maleness of him arresting her thoughts. And once again, his incredible appeal rolled through her, making her breath back up in her lungs.
He dropped her arm and stepped away.
Her face burned. Embarrassed at her reaction, she looked away. Lovely. This was all the poor man needed. They had their lives on the line, a vicious gang hunting them down—and her hormones chose this moment to go berserk.
Steering her thoughts back to her story, she cleared her throat. “Anyway, another runaway we knew was nearby. Tommy McCall. He was Parker’s younger brother. He got in their way, giving us a chance to escape. He saved our lives.”
“Was?”
That was the worst of it. “The gang killed him.” Tommy’s gallantry had cost him his life.
She lapsed into silence again, the guilt plaguing her even now. Tommy had died because of them.
Several cars sped past. The cold wind picked up, and she hunched deeper into her coat to escape the chill.
“So you never saw the shooters?” Sully asked, drawing her attention back to him.
“No, but they didn’t know that. And they saw me.”
“But your friend took pictures. So you know who they are.”
“Yes, but both of the shooters are dead now. The last one died a couple of weeks ago.”
He angled his head to meet her eyes. “Then who’s trying to kill you? And what does this have to do with the Ridgewood gang?”
She sighed. “I told you it was complicated. About ten years ago, the City of the Dead disbanded. Most of their members were dead by then. The ones who’d survived ended up merging with the Ridgewood gang. And it seems the leader of the original gang—the head honcho who ordered that execution in the warehouse—was one of the ones who survived.
“We don’t know much about him, just that he now has power. Lots of power. We think he even has ties to the police. In fact, he had Markus Jenkins released from jail—he’s the head of the Ridgewood gang.”