Lock your door? Really? That was all he had to say to her? Calvin couldn’t help but be disgusted with himself. Lily sat on the floor terrified. Shaking. He should have been reassuring her; instead, he left.

Striding back to his house, Calvin cursed under his breath. What else could he do? He couldn’t blame her for telling him to get out. How many dates did she have that ended in shots fired?

Despite all his precautions, someone had found him.

Calvin yanked out his cell phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint. It took only a ring before someone answered. “I need you to run a plate for me.”

Mason didn’t ask questions, although he did grumble. “Why can’t criminals work at a decent hour?”

Because dirty deeds were always done under the cover of darkness. “Someone shot at me.”

“And missed? That wasn’t too bright of them.”

No kidding, because Calvin wouldn’t miss when he got a chance. He’d hoped to disable the car enough to get to talk to the driver, but they’d taken off like cowards, despite the flat tires. They wouldn’t get far. “I want a name and address.”

“I’ll call you back when I get results,” Mason replied. He wouldn’t do something stupid like try and talk Calvin out of it. Academy boys didn’t let any slights pass them by. Strength and the appearance of power were everything.

The moments it took for Mason to get an answer gave Calvin the time he needed to make it into his house and up to his attic. He flicked on his screens and pulled up the programs that ran his cameras. He’d placed a number around his property for security. If a mouse so much as twitched a whisker in and around his place, he’d know.

His phone rang. “I got the info you wanted on the plate.”

Calvin envied Mason the speed he could pull info. While Calvin had access to a great many things, police databases and DMV records were harder to crack since they’d upgraded their security yet again. Then again, Calvin preferred hands-on tasks, whereas Mason was more of a technology kind of guy. Together, they made a good team.

“Hit me with it. Who’s the owner? Gangbanger? Drug dealer?”

Or perhaps the incident was related to something more personal such as an ex-husband, or, more specifically, the friends Calvin had humiliated. They obviously hadn’t learned their lesson.

“Actually, the owner has nothing to do with the drive-by at all. The vehicle we’re talking about was reported stolen less than half an hour ago from a convenience store. Someone hopped into it while the guy was buying gum.”

“Someone stole a car to come shoot at me?” Evidently wanting to hide their tracks, but also risky given that they’d have to ditch the vehicle soon so the cops didn’t nab them.

“We don’t know that they were after you. This could have been a simple crime of opportunity. If the information I’m now reading is accurate, whoever stole it abandoned the car already.”

“Are we sure it’s the same vehicle?

“Not entirely. Someone called in a partial plate and description. Apparently, the car is on fire.” Sirens wailed in the distance, and Calvin’s lips pursed. Those sounded close.

Too close.

Whoever had driven and ditched the ruined car was now on foot. Or had they acquired new wheels?

His camera watching the north end of the street beeped, and he tapped to enlarge the video feed. He didn’t need to see it, though, to mark the arrival of the cops. Hard to miss their presence with the red and blue swirl of lights illuminating the darkness and managing to color the inside of his attic.

A peek outside, and he marked the location of the cruiser, sitting in Lily’s driveway. Someone had called 911. Not surprising. A few windows on the street had lights on, and he’d wager faces were pressed eagerly against the glass in order to inhale the sudden action happening on the usually quiet street. Gun blasts in suburbia weren’t an everyday occurrence.

They shouldn’t happen at all in his neighborhood.

It offended Calvin. This was his castle. His home. Which meant he’d have to do something about it, but only after he dealt with the cops. Once done talking to Lily, they’d surely end up at his place asking questions. Then he’d have to lie, just enough to make them think the attack was random and had nothing to do with a benign real estate broker.

I wonder if Lily believes me now when I say I’m a killer.

She certainly understood he wasn’t a regular kind of guy. Regular guys didn’t get shot at.

Since Mason had already promised to keep an eye on whether the burning car coughed up any clues via forensics, Calvin shut down his command center—also known as his sweetest computer setup yet.

He couldn’t have told you what it ran in bytes and RAM and shit. Mason had been the one to completely score him a state-of-the-art system. All Calvin knew—and cared about—was that the computer itself ran fast, and if anyone other than he or Mason touched it, it would have a complete and utter meltdown. The security was just that good.

The stairs leading up to the attic were easy to fold, and the entire trapdoor lifted, sealing it off. The coolest thing was, if anybody pulled the cord and peeked, they wouldn’t see a thing. Holographic technology covered the attic’s use by displaying insulation, wooden support beams, and other things one would expect to see when looking through a trap door. Anybody who’d ever loved a good spy or contraband movie would appreciate the clever design of it.

Trotting down the stairs to the front hall, Calvin could still see the red and blue lights casting strangely colored, moving shadows. He bent and pulled his holster off his ankle and tucked it in a safe spot hidden under the console table in his front hall. Custom-made, of course.

A lot of his furniture had been designed with extra functions. He ordered the stuff from a specialty shop. It might cost a bundle, but the people knew how to build. Given his line of work and his paranoid nature, Calvin had hiding spots all over the house. He also had safe houses around the world. The apocalypse could hit at any time. He was ready.

Peeking through the curtains, Calvin took stock of the disco strobe of the cop lights, which illuminated the outside enough for him to see that nothing moved between the houses. He fixed himself a drink and waited, waited while scrolling through some stuff on his phone, replaying video footage of the attack. None of it gave any clues. The car had been stolen and thus wouldn’t lead back to anyone. The grainy footage, because the shadows were so thick on the street, meant he only got one view of the driver, and the… “Fucker is wearing a balaclava.” Or some kind of face-covering hood with basic holes for the eyes and mouth. Hiding his face. Simple drive-bys wouldn’t bother.

Rewind. He watched again. And again. He took a sip of his drink and frowned at the image.

He rewound it and played it slowly. The driver remained an expressionless blob behind the wheel, but what was that?

There. In the back.

He paused, rewound, and played the video even slower, frame-by-frame, and noted a passenger in the back seat. Also wearing a head covering and almost missed but for the movement and sudden outline of a profile before the lights went out. There were two people in the car.

Important but not as important as the fact that the car slowed down in front of Lily’s place and began to fire. Not his house.

Were they stupid? Did they miscount? Did they see Calvin and Lily and jump to the assumption that it was his house?

Am I even the target?

There was a slim chance it had nothing to do with him. Perhaps it truly was random. A crime of the moment.

Maybe they were after Lily.

They’d better not be.

Taking another sip of his drink, he wondered when the cops would get here and get his statement over with. He had better things to do—like march back over to give Lily a proper goodnight kiss. And then convince her to let him spend the night.

What?

Shock had him spewing his drink because, what the hell? Why the fuck would he go over there? The date had failed miserably.

But the kiss…

The kiss had ended in near bloodshed.

He finished his drink and drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair.

Are those cops ever going to get here?

It occurred to him that perhaps he was looking guilty by not showing more curiosity. After all, in suburbia, wasn’t everyone’s business the hottest topic around? Perhaps he should show an interest. After all, the shooting had happened during the failed date. He moved to the window and twitched the drape aside.

He was just in time to see the police car, the lights flickering off, driving away—without talking to him. Ignoring a witness.

That made no sense.

What had Lily told them? Surely she’d said something about Calvin. They were together. Hell, she’d figured out the whole shooting was his fault and told him to leave. Because of him, she no longer felt safe.

To his surprise, an odd sense of chivalry rose and insisted he do something about that. Figure out who was behind the drive-by and take care of them because this was his house. His turf. Nobody was going to fuck with that.

And they need to stay away from Lily.

To protect her, he needed to know what had happened with the police. Had Lily placed all the blame on him, accusing him of bringing a criminal element into their midst? Would the police return with a warrant? That would suck. He’d put down a good chunk of money on this house and poured a ton of sweat equity into it, as well. Changing personas and relocating didn’t appeal.

I doubt my next place will have a hottie next door. A hottie who might have ruined his gig. What had she told the cops?

Let’s find out. He slid on his shoes and headed outside. Forget overthinking the brilliance of it. He rapped on the door before he could change his mind.

No answer.

It called for another firm tap. “Lily. We need to talk.” Never ask a question. He remembered hearing that rule somewhere. He just wasn’t sure if it applied to women or children.

Creak.

“Are you really going to pretend you’re not behind the door?” He sighed. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“It’s late.”

“It is, but you’re not sleeping, and neither am I.”

The door opened a crack, and a single brown eye peered at him. “I would be in bed if you went away.”

Bed. What a nice idea. He wouldn’t mind that at all.

He reeled his mind out of the gutter to focus on important business. “What happened with the police? I saw them here.” No point in pretending he hadn’t.

Still from the small crack she’d opened. “Someone called them claiming they heard gunshots. I gave them a statement, and they went away.”

No more details appeared forthcoming. “And?”

“And what?” The door swung open a little farther, revealing her whole face. Features wan, she shrugged and offered a weak smile. “According to them, it’s just a random act of violence. Probably something to do with the previous tenant since I moved in so recently.”

“Are they filing a report?”

“Why bother? No one got hurt. The property was not really damaged that they could see. Why waste everyone’s time?”

It sounded so coolly logical even if her voice trembled. It surprised him that she would blow this off. Guns should always be taken seriously. “Did you tell them I was with you?”

Another shrug. “Again, why bother? It wouldn’t have changed anything. As far as they know, I got home, there were gunshots, I ran into the house. I saw nothing.”

“Saw nothing?” He couldn’t help but repeat with a touch of incredulity. “What are you, mafia?” Because her story seemed a little too pat. As if she’d lied to authorities before. How unexpected and yet utterly beguiling.

Her lips pulled down. “Not mafia. Worse. Which is why you need to leave. Like now. I just want to go to bed. I’ll pack in the morning.”

“Pack? Why would you pack?”

“Because I can’t bring my daughter back here.” She said it with a duh tone.

She’s afraid. The violence had come too close, and she wanted to run. Run to protect her little girl. That made sense, yet he didn’t care for it. The thought of her leaving didn’t please him at all.

So how to fix this?

How to make her feel safe again? He couldn’t exactly send her a video of him killing the two guys in the car. Lily was too gentle and sweet. She would never condone the kind of violence he believed in. However, she didn’t have to see it to feel protected.

“You shouldn’t go on account of one bad incident. If the cops are right, then it was a random thing.”

“Random violence doesn’t make it any less real.”

“Moving doesn’t mean you’ll be safe. This is your home now. Make it your fortress.” It could be done. Calvin was doing it. Giving himself a safe place. It would be safer by the time he was done cleaning the city. Betcha Mason would give me a hand culling some of the crime.

“A fortress needs guards. Is this your way of telling me to get a dog?” She arched a brow.

“I prefer cats.”

“Are we seriously talking pet choices at just past midnight?”

“No, we’re talking about the fact that you need to stick around.”

“I don’t want to run. But it’s not just about me.” Her head ducked. “I can’t allow anything to happen to Zoe. She’s my life.”

The words struck a nerve with him. His own parents hadn’t been around much when he was growing up. Their absence was the main reason Calvin had ended up in and out of foster care. As with many kids in the system, he rebelled. It was how he’d ended up meeting his new family at the academy.

A family he could always count on.

“What if I said I knew some people who could look into this?”

Her head lifted, and she tossed him a sharp look. “What do you mean by look into this? Like private eyes? I don’t have money to hire anybody.”

“No cost. Just a few friends doing favors.” Calvin was owed more than a few. Time to call some in and make promises for others because he was declaring this part of suburbia off-limits to criminals. Lily didn’t know it yet, but this area was about to become crazy secure.

I promise to make you and your daughter safe.

Calvin couldn’t help but take a step closer to her. He couldn’t have said why, except the space between them offended him. He stood close enough that his hand couldn’t resist sinking into her hair, the long darkness of it like silk in his hand.

“What will those favors cost me?” Her eyes stared, big and beguiling. Hesitation in their depths but also a faint hope.

Cost? “No cost.” Because didn’t she realize yet that he needed to do this? Needed to… Threading his fingers to cup her head, he drew her close, close enough that his words hit her lips. “I’ll keep you safe because I want to.”

He would. It seemed important that she know this. He dipped lower, and his mouth brushed hers.

Soft and trembling, her flesh met his. Her breath caught as he slowly rubbed his lips over hers. He tugged at her lower lip with his teeth, and a tremor went through her. His free hand curved around her waist and tugged her close, close enough to mold her to him.

A low sound rumbled through her, a moan that only heightened his awareness of her as a woman. Desire rushed through him.

He deepened the kiss, parting her lips that he might slide his tongue along hers. Teasing and stroking. He crushed her tighter. Tasted her. Felt the excitement in her body, her sweet trembles, and naughtier undulations.

It occurred to him that they kissed in the middle of her front hall, the door still wide open at his back.

Dumb and dangerous. He shuffled them backwards, enough that his foot hooked the door and shut it.

Click.

She froze.

Her hands then pressed on his chest, and she said something involving goodnight, but he could barely comprehend beyond the incredulity.

She’s telling me to go away.