John stepped in front of her. “He’s dangerous, Julianna. Don’t get near him.”
Hugh laughed. “That’s right. I’m big, bad and far too fucking dangerous to know.”
“I got access to your military records,” John fired at him. “I know about the so-called friendly fire incident. About the explosion you set that took out three of your team-mates.”
Hugh’s laughter died. “You don’t know shit.”
“I know you’re a man with some serious anger issues. You were pushed out of the army because they thought you were too much of loose cannon—a real powder keg that liked to explode.”
“Keep talking,” Hugh warned, “and you’ll see me explode.”
Oh, crap. This scene was not going to end well.
But the door to Fast Shoots opened once more and Devlin was there. She would have been lying to herself if Julianna didn’t acknowledge the relief that surged through her.
Devlin’s glittering gaze raked from Hugh to John. Tension hardened his jaw. “What the fuck is this?”
“This,” Julianna said clearly, “is me leaving.” She had to get away from that scene. She didn’t know who to trust—John and Hugh? Hell, no. Devlin? Herself?
She turned from them and hurried toward the street. She had to clear her head.
“Julianna!” Devlin called after her.
She didn’t stop. Her steps became even faster. The light up ahead was green for pedestrians, so she hurried out and—
“Julianna!” That wasn’t just her name—it was a roar of fear and fury. Her head snapped to the right, and she saw a black van barreling toward her. The driver wasn’t slowing at all—just coming straight for her.
She turned and tried to run back toward the safety of the sidewalk. Everything seemed to be moving in super slow speed around her. Everything but that black van. Closer, closer—
Devlin grabbed her left wrist and he yanked her toward him. He pulled her against his body and they fell back, slamming down toward the sidewalk even as the van hurtled past them. She could smell the exhaust from the van, could nearly feel the rough touch of the vehicle as it lurched past her…
But the van didn’t hit her.
They’d made it out of the way.
She pushed up and stared at Devlin. His eyes were open—blazing with emotion—as he said, “Too damn close.”
Yes, it had been.
His hand slipped beneath her hair and he pulled her toward him. “Too close,” he said again and he kissed her. Deep, hard, desperately.
The same way she was kissing him.
“Uh, yeah…” Lex’s voice drifted to them. “I’m glad as all hell that you two are okay, but could you let her go, Dev, long enough for us to get the hell away from the road in case that bastard comes back?”
Julianna lifted her head. Her left hand was still in Devlin’s grasp. “Thank you,” she told him. He’d saved her, again.
Very carefully, he lifted her up. They rose and turned to stare at the crowd that had gathered around them.
“Tell me,” Devlin muttered, “that someone got that joker’s tag number.”
More whispers from the crowd.
“I got it,” John said as he stepped forward.
Her gaze cut to him.
Hugh stood behind the reporter, glowering.
Heather was in jail, Hugh and John were both right there…so who the hell was after her? Who’d just tried to run her down?
Devlin’s hands were around her waist. The hands that had pounded into Hugh were trembling against her.
“I got it,” John said again, his voice rising even more. “We can get the guy! We can stop him! This is front page news. Front freaking page!”
Lex slapped a hand on Devlin’s shoulder. “You just scared the hell out of me.”
“Like I was going to let her get hurt.”
Julianna glared at him. “What if you’d been hurt right then? You have to think of yourself, too—”
“I’m your bodyguard!” Devlin blasted back. “It’s my job to take care of you!”
“You’re more than that!’ Julianna shouted at him, pushed too far. Then she realized just what she’d said. “You’re more than that,” she whispered as the words sank in for them both.
“Okay…” Lex drew out the word. “We’ve got a crowd, and, more importantly, we’ve got a tag number. I saw it, too. So let’s call the cops and end this thing.”
Julianna couldn’t look away from Devlin, but she nodded. Yes, yes, they’d end this. Now.
***
Ethan Barclay.
The man was a constant pain in Devlin’s ass.
“Did you hear me, Devlin?” Faith demanded. “I told you, that tag belongs to Ethan Barclay. Or, actually, it belongs to his business. So the person who tried to run down your client…that would be the man who pops up way too much at my police precinct.”
Ethan wouldn’t hurt Julianna. Just like he wouldn’t hurt Sophie.
“What’s the connection between them?” Faith wanted to know. “I mean, how the hell does he fit into this one?”
Oh, it’s just a little matter of murder and cover-up. Blackmail. The usual. “I don’t know,” he said instead.
She whistled. “I sure hope you’re not lying to me.”
It wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“I’ve got an APB out for Ethan right now. Seems the guy has gone to ground.” She turned away from him and paced toward her desk. “Not like it’s the first time he’s wanted to dodge the law. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t decide to flee the country or some crap like that.”
Julianna stood a few feet away. There was no emotion on her face, but her eyes were sure dark and stormy. He knew exactly what she was going to say even before he closed in on her and she whispered—
“He wouldn’t.”
He put a finger on her lips. “The cops are handling this, baby. Let’s go back to my place.”
The storm in her eyes got even worse. The woman really needed to get a bit better at picking up on the silent messages he was sending her—because she seemed to be completely missing what he was telling her.
Julianna whirled away and marched for the police station’s door. He was aware of the eyes on them, and he just wanted to get her out—
“You’re wrong about Ethan,” she called back to Faith.
Oh, hell. Now Faith would realize there was definitely a connection between Julianna and the too-notorious Ethan. Devlin peered over his shoulder at the detective.
“I’ve heard other women say the same thing.” Faith tapped her chin. “What is it about that man? I personally like men who are a bit more law abiding…and far less likely to kill an enemy on sight.”
Before Julianna could say anything more, Devlin grabbed her elbow and steered her to the door.
“Devlin, stop,” she snapped out. “We can’t let her think Ethan did this, we can’t—”
They were outside. Finally. “Someone else wants us to think he did it.”
She frowned. “He didn’t.”
“I don’t think so, either.” But anyone would be able to peg him as the perfect fall guy. With Ethan’s past, the police would jump to arrest him. They certainly had before. “What we need to figure out is this…who knows about your connection to Ethan? Who would know that they could incriminate him with a tie to you?”
A furrow appeared between her brows. “Sophie. She knows. And my sister.”
A sister who’d just arrived in town.
“You know,” she added. “Your guys at VJS know.”
Speaking of VJS…he saw Lex heading toward them. He’d have to get the guy to call Sophie, pronto. Sophie and Ethan shared a pretty powerful past, too—a past that had made Lex jealous on too many occasions. But if anyone could find Ethan right then, Devlin knew it would be Sophie.
“Who else?” Devlin pushed.
“Jeremy knew,” she said, biting her lip. “Because of the video, he had to know. He had that security consultant d
ig it up, right?”
But the consultant was dead.
Maybe someone else close to Jeremy had known, too. Like a step-daughter. Or maybe…
“And…” Julianna rubbed her forehead. “That reporter—John Reynolds. He told me that he’d been talking to Carly. Maybe…it could be possible that she told him.”
But John had been at the scene of the near hit-and-run.
“What’s happening?” Lex demanded.
“We have to find Ethan Barclay,” Devlin said, his voice hard. “Now.”
“Fuck,” Lex shook his head. “What has he done this time?”
Chapter Sixteen
Carly heard a faint knock at her door. Frowning, she edged closer to the door. The nice man from VJS—Chance Valentine—had gotten her the apartment. He’d said it was a safe location. He’d also told her that he’d be bringing Julianna by soon so that she could talk with her step-sister.
Is that Julianna now? She put her eye to the peep-hole. A blonde woman was on the other side, her head turned away from Carly. Smiling, Carly opened the door.
The blonde turned toward her.
Not Julianna.
“Hello, there,” the blonde said as she lifted her gun and pointed it at Carly. “So glad you came to town.” There was something on the end of that gun—the barrel was too long.
A silencer. Dear God, that woman has a silencer on the gun!
“Who are you?”
“I’m the woman who’s going to kill you.” She was a killer in a perfectly styled suit.
Carly tried to shove that door shut.
But there was a strange whistle of sound. A thud.
The thud was her body hitting the ground. Because she’d been shot. The bullet had torn into her, moving so fast, and just giving a whistle. No bang. No thunder. Such a soft sound. Because she had a silencer on the gun.
The blonde headed into the apartment. She grabbed Carly’s hands and dragged her away from the door. “Don’t die just yet,” she said, giving Carly a kick. “I need you to call your dear sister for me. Tell her to get her ass over here, now.”
Carly shook her head. “You—”
The tip of the silencer pressed to her head. “I said now. So tell me…where the fuck is your phone?”
***