Something happened to people when sudden darkness hit. Some found a calm serenity in it. He rather liked the dark—and the things he could do in it. For Calvin, it manifested as a cool, flowing force that rendered him hyper alert.

Others feared the darkness. The loss of their sense of sight meant panic clawed at them. The fear tended to blind them more than the murky shadows.

The a-hole who dared to threaten Lily was the kind who didn’t thrive in true darkness. In a voice threaded with anxiousness, he yelled, “Don’t you fucking move.”

A part of Calvin wanted to ghost to the dickwad’s side and whisper “Boo,” in his ear. Want to bet the a-hole would scream like a girl? He dearly wanted to find out, and maybe he would after he ensured Lily evaded the knife.

“This is your last chance to let the girl go and get your ass out of here. I’m going to count to three…” Calvin said as his eyes acclimated to the gloom.

“Don’t you fucking move. Orders or not, I will kill her.”

“One.” The word hung in the dark kitchen, and he wondered if Lily paid attention. Would she know to act when her chance came?

“I mean it. I’ll slit her throat.”

Calvin began to doubt it. This mouthpiece was just a braggart without balls, even more inept than the thugs Calvin had dispatched. “Two.” The word caused the a-hole to drag in a hitching breath.

“You’re fucking nuts.”

This from the guy holding a knife to Lily’s throat? A compliment because, of the two of them, Calvin probably was a little crazier.

“Three.” He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything at all.

This was the fun part.

A shuffle of fabric. “Where are you?” The query came and hung in the air.

It hung without an answer.

Calvin held in a grin so his teeth wouldn’t gleam.

“If you hurt me, my friends will come after you.”

Let them. Calvin planned to rout all the rats from his town.

He moved closer to where his senses claimed the a-hole stood. His eyes were adjusting to the gloom, and he could see shapes inside the shadows. He also saw the outline of the knife, a faint glint giving it away. A shot to the hand holding it might cause it to dig, so instead, Calvin chose to lash out with his foot, cracking it against a-hole’s shin.

He dutifully screamed, and the hand holding the knife jerked away from Lily’s neck. A scuffle erupted, with Lily shoving away from dickwad. But the guy recovered faster than expected, and his loose hand shot out and grabbed her by the hair, jerking her back toward him, causing her to emit a sharp cry.

Oh, hell no.

Fuck patience. Waiting was no longer an option. Calvin lunged for the a-hole, aiming for the bulk of his shadow, but the guy managed to evade, lunging to the side.

The lights flickered on, just for a second, enough for Calvin to see Lily’s wide and frightened, pain-filled eyes. To note the panicked gleam in the a-hole’s, and then the lights went out again, leaving them all blind.

But Calvin had a better idea of the guy’s position. He lunged and grabbed the arm of the man’s knife-wielding hand. As he held it away, his knee rose and delivered a blow to dickwad’s midsection. They grappled, Calvin mostly holding the fellow’s knife hand so he couldn’t inadvertently strike at Lily.

Calvin didn’t dare get too violent, not with Lily so close by. As he tried to smash the guy’s hand to drop the blade, he felt Lily flailing beside him, still caught by fingers tangled in her hair. He shouldered the other guy, trying to throw him off balance, but the fellow proved more solid than expected. It didn’t help that Lily, in an attempt to aid, landed a blow—right in his sac.

Ouch.

The other guy took advantage and shoved at Calvin. He reeled back and lost his bearings for a moment.

Grunts and a few harshly sputtered exhalations accompanied soft, meaty thuds. Who was hitting whom? Did it matter?

I am supposed to be the professional here. He should try fucking acting like it.

Closing his eyes, he felt at the space around him. In many ways, his training at the academy in the Box—what he and the other boys called that dark, locked room they trained in—reminded him of young Luke’s training. He let his other senses test the air.

There.

He darted forward, hands once again lunging. He caught fabric, thick cotton fibers, and fisted it.

“Get back here,” he growled as he yanked. Instead of resisting the pull, the a-hole moved toward him with a cry of rage. It caused them to go off balance.

Calvin’s back hit the hard floor, and his head snapped hard. That will leave a lump. He couldn’t afford the pain dulling his senses.

Never give in to the pain. Hesitation would kill.

Instinct made him fling both his hands outward in time to catch a thick wrist. Want to bet it held a knife?

How exciting. Calvin rocked to his left, hoping to roll them, but the body over him went only so far before jamming. Damned counters were in the way.

They weren’t the only things getting into his path of victory. Lily seemed determined to help—also known as hinder.

He could hear her muttering. “Get off him. What is wrong with everyone? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

Did she chastise the dickwad?

Calvin managed to tuck his knees up, enough that he could heave the guy off him. Once again, Lily cried out, but more in annoyance.

“Why won’t you just go away?”

No. Don’t go away. Stay. He still had questions.

Calvin got to his feet just as something hit him. He grabbed at the body, trying to avoid flailing limbs. Delicate ones. “Is this how you’re going to thank me?”

“Calvin?” The fighting stopped. She leaned into him, but he didn’t have time for that.

There was still a man to find. He moved toward the back door, the sliding panes as dark as the rest of his house, and yet his assailant couldn’t hide the whisper as it slid open, nor prevent the cooler breeze from wafting in.

He ran in the right direction—hopefully, or else he stood to face-plant in a wall or glass door. If he was really wrong, he’d hit the table and bag himself. He’d prefer to smash his face.

The fresh air of the yard hit him in the face, and he slowed his step. Out in the open, he could see a little bit, shades of shadows created by the few stars shining in the sky, bare pinpricks that provided a touch of light. Enough that he could see the whole yard, one side with hedges, tall and thick, with chain link running through, the border to his yard. The rear boasted weathered plank things, eight-feet high and stained some strange orange-brown color. For the third side, more wooden fencing, the grain gray and the tops ragged.

Which way had the a-hole gone? Come back. I’m not done talking to you.

He turned in a circle, trying to figure out where he’d run.

How dare he think to attack Lily. This is because of Harry’s investigation. Someone didn’t like them poking. Isn’t that too fucking bad.

Of more concern than the warning was how someone had managed to trace him and, even more astonishing, knew his secret identity? Whoever had hired the lowlife had told him his other name, his assassin name: Sicarius. But how did they find out? Calvin was always very careful about hiding his tracks, and Mason, along with Sherry, ensured the rest.

I’ve been compromised. The general rule of thumb when that happened was to leave. Clean out and move away to start over. Except Calvin had been here a while. Longer than anywhere else in his life.

He liked it, and kind of wanted to keep it.

Creak. The sound was pretty quiet. Nothing sharp or attention grabbing, and yet, he stiffened. Calvin whirled and saw the body straddling the top of the fence.

There you are. Calvin ran toward him, long strides that thudded in the dark night. A face briefly turned his way, the eyes wide, the obscene gesture clear. The middle finger salute disappeared from sight as the guy finished his climb over the fence.

It took too long for Calvin to reach it. He vaulted it, his hands gripping the top edge when he leaped, hoping the creaking and swaying section would hold. He hit the other side feet first and in a crouch.

Pounding steps showed a-hole racing down the side of the house, his feet hitting the pavers hard. Calvin sprinted after him, hands ready to grab.

A motor grumbled, and lights lit the road ahead. Calvin pumped harder, only a few yards behind. The car squealed to a stop, the door opening even as it still moved. Dickwad’s face briefly shone in the feeble overhead light as he dove inside. The door hadn’t even finished shutting when it took off with a squeal of tires.

Memorizing the license plate, Calvin didn’t hold much hope. Chances were they’d stolen the vehicle.

Fucker had escaped him. How embarrassing.

He returned to Lily’s house, opting to use the front door. The lights came on as he strode down the hall to the kitchen. The sudden brightness had him blinking. But that wasn’t why he frowned.

Lily stood at the sink. A knife sat on the counter alongside the tape she’d managed to remove from her wrists. One of her hands clutched the counter’s edge, the other pressed to her neck. Her bloodied neck. The red stain reminded him of how close she’d come to getting permanently hurt.

Hurt because of me.

He wouldn’t accept that. This couldn’t be allowed to happen.

I’ll kill that little bastard. Him. His boss. His brother. Anyone who thought they could hurt someone he cared about.

“Are you okay?” Him, the suave guy who’d mingled with high society, stuck asking a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay. Someone had just threatened to slice her throat.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“It’s not fine. You’re hurt. And it’s my fault.” Which really pissed him off. This was why he’d never mixed pleasure with business in the past. This was why he didn’t have ties.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Her chin ducked as she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have opened the door. Safety rule number one when you’re a single lady. Always check who’s knocking first.”

“You shouldn’t have to check. The neighborhood should be safe.”

“Nothing is ever truly safe.” Her lips turned into a wan smile.

“It should be. I want it to be. I’m working on it.”

“Working on it how?” Her left brow arched. “By shaking up the local drug dealers so they come looking for you?”

“They shouldn’t have been able to find me.”

“You’re a realtor. Your face is probably on park benches and the sides of buses. How did you think they wouldn’t? You should leave the crime fighting to the pros.”

“I am a pro. Assassin, remember?”

Another ghost of a smile. “I do remember, and you obviously know how to take care of yourself. But wanting to be a crime fighter and truly fighting it are two different things. You seem like a good guy, Calvin, but you’re dabbling in things you shouldn’t, with people who aren’t afraid of violence.”

“I’m not afraid of violence.” As he said that, he grabbed his gun off the counter and waved it.

For a moment, fear shone in her eyes.

He didn’t like it one bit. He tucked the gun into the back of his pants. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Lily turned away and reached to turn on the tap. She leaned for the paper towel and grabbed a couple. She wet them and then pressed them against her bloody neck.

It only served to remind him of his failure. It should have been grounds for them to go their separate ways. He’d brought this danger on to her. He was responsible.

Walk away.

Never.

Life was dangerous. But so was he.

“I never want you to be afraid of me.”

She dabbed at her neck, wiping the drying lines of blood. “You say that, and yet, I can tell you right now, sometimes that changes. People change.”

He knew whom she referenced. “Please let me kill him.”

“No.”

“It would solve so many problems.”

She leaned against the counter and stared at him. “I never know if you’re joking or not when you say things like that. I mean, it’s almost as if you want me to believe you’re capable of murder.”

“And if I were? There are some individuals that pose such an inherent danger to others. Some people who are irredeemable. In those cases, the best course of action is elimination.” But he should add that not all those he killed were bad. Sometimes, his targets simply stood in the way of something someone else wanted. Those jobs tended to give the best return.

“Killing for the good of mankind? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I don’t kill to be a hero. I offer problem-solving when other solutions fail.”

For some reason, his words saw her face shutting down, her expression tight. He could almost see the rigid armor encasing her, and the cold radiating from her body.

“You’re a freaking cop, aren’t you?”

For a moment, he stared at her dumbstruck. “A cop? What the fuck?”

Her lips pursed. “It would explain a few things. Are you trying to trap me into saying…no, I won’t even say it out loud in case you are recording this. Knowing him, he’d edit anything I said to make me sound worse.”

“I am not a cop. And I am not trying to trap you into saying anything. Why the fuck would you even think that?” Did she not see he truly wanted to help her in the only way he knew how?

“Then why do you keep pushing me? Why keep telling me and teasing me about Brock? Do you think I enjoy having a lunatic ex-husband? I mean, you saw what happened with him. He’s a loose cannon.”

“All the more reason to let me take care of it.”

She shook her head. “No. Much as I want him out of my life, I would never advocate murder.”

“Fine. He lives, for now.” Said darkly, and she noticed.

“Why do you even care? I’m nobody to you. Just a lady next door with a shit-ton of baggage.”

“No one should live in fear.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes life sucks.” She turned away from him, and he could see the tightness in her frame.

“It doesn’t have to suck,” said the king of eloquence. “I could help you. Let me help you. I’ve been watching and—”

At that, she spun. “You’re spying on me?”

“Says the woman who’s always peeking through her windows.”

Pink blotches appeared on her cheeks. “I’m allowed to look outside.”

“You are, just like I’m allowed to look out, too. Don’t forget, I’m an assassin. Observation is something we do.”

“No, what you do is mess with drugs. I knew there had to be something wrong with you. That’s why that guy was here waiting for you. Are you part of some rival gang?”

“I don’t deal drugs. But I am trying to disband a group of people who are.”

“Because you’re a spy in a real estate agent disguise.” She rolled her eyes. “God, would you drop the act already. It was cute at first, but now it’s getting us both into trouble.”

“It’s not an act. Assassin is my true title, but parts of that include espionage.”

She shook her head but didn’t ask him to leave. He noticed she’d changed since he’d seen her from her robe into thin track pants and a sweatshirt. She wore one slipper only, and her hair haloed from her head in a half wet, half dry, tangled heap. Bedraggled and forlorn, yet he still wanted her.

A high-pitched laugh emerged from her. “Why is it I want to believe your fairy tale? You, an American James Bond, and me, the femme fatale by your side. Absolute make-believe.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“If only.” She shook her head. “You should have gone into acting. You’re good at making me want to believe.”

“And you’re stubborn. I am telling the truth.” Because, for once in his life, he wanted to build something with a woman. This woman. And he didn’t want it to be based on lies.

“If you are, then what makes you think it appeals? What woman would sign up for life with a criminal?”

“Professional bound by a code of conduct instilled in us at the academy.”

“An assassin’s code?” Again, she laughed. “Oh, Calvin, you just don’t give up. But here’s the thing. I’ve lived a life rife with violence. I’m done with that. I deserve a quiet life.”

“Quiet? You don’t look like someone who enjoys being passive all the time.” A hidden fire hid inside Lily. He’d seen it partially stoked. It wanted to roar to life.

“Maybe not all the time, but for now, I have to because of Zoe.”

“It is because of her you should not settle for just getting by. It’s because of her you shouldn’t let your ex bully you. A daughter takes cues from her mother. She watches you. Emulates. What kind of woman would you have her grow up to be?”

“That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair? That she looks to you?”

“I know she does, and I want to show her the right thing to do. But sometimes, the right thing can hurt people. It can…” Lily paused and bit her lip.

He couldn’t help but move close and place his hands on her hips, drawing her near. “Sometimes, the right thing is the wrong thing. Sometimes, we have to be selfish.”

Her hands flattened on his chest. They didn’t push away. “You should go.” The words sounded uncertain.

“Forget should. What did I just say about sometimes being selfish? What do you want?” He knew what he wanted. He let himself sway into her, and their bodies brushed. Did she feel the same electric awareness when it happened?

He sank his fingers into her hair, feeling the dampness of it, the fragrance soft and light, just like her. He cupped her head, pulling her closer.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she murmured, leaning up on tiptoe.

“Says who?”

“I don’t want to fuck up,” was her soft reply, a hot breath of words against his lips.

“How can something that feels this right be a fuckup?”

“It’s hormones.”

More like fate. “This is going to happen.” Inevitable from the moment they met and sparks flew.

Forget the shit show that just happened. Forget protocol like calling in the incident to his team because anything that affected one of them could hurt them all.

Instead of doing a great many things, he kissed Lily. He slid his tongue between her lips and tasted the grape of the wine she’d drunk before this had all started. Felt the soft pressure of her hands against his back as she embraced him back.

All of her melted into him. A sense of rightness made him hum. He could kiss her all night.

Hold her forever.

And he’d kill whoever interrupted. He broke the kiss and held in a snarl of annoyance, pulling the gun he’d retrieved from the waistband of his pants and aiming it toward the kitchen hallway arch just before the footsteps entered.

Mason held up his hands. “Don’t shoot. I’m here for that beer you promised me.”

Not exactly true. As soon as Calvin had put the call in for cleanup, Bad Boy Inc. would have gotten a notice. That was why Mason had shown up.

Lily put more space between them. “I have to go.”

“Go where? This is your house.”

“Elsewhere. Excuse me.” A red-cheeked Lily took that moment to excuse herself and flee. He heard a door slam as she hid in her bedroom.

Calvin almost chased after her. But Mason stared at him. Stared enough that Calvin scratched his balls to show his utter nonchalance. “What do you say we go back to my place for that beer?”

He let Mason exit first and ensured the lock on Lily’s front door engaged before pulling it shut. He then led the way over to his place, but Calvin waited until they were inside before he said, “My cover is blown.”

“Was that the girl?”

“What girl?” Even as Calvin pretended, he knew Mason saw right through him.

“The girl who’s got you thinking about kids.” His friend snickered. “Holy shit. No wonder you want to go all avenging hero on the city. You found yourself a muffin.”

“Muffin?”

“The one you want to take home instead of the cupcake. She’s still just as sweet, with a moister interior and yummy little bits of fruit goodness to keep things interesting.”

“What is your obsession with comparing stuff to food?”

“I’ve been taking cooking classes.”

“And you haven’t made me anything?” Calvin inquired, fingerprinting the tablet he kept in the kitchen and loading up any warnings. The systems showed an All Clear in all his zones. A few taps, and he noted the cameras in her place showed all the main rooms empty.

“Spying on her?” Mason asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“Trying to keep her safe.”

“You took care of those thugs.”

“I took care of some thugs. The one who hurt her got away.”

Mason, in the process of grabbing a beer, paused. “Got away? As in you didn’t kill him? What the fuck, man? You losing your touch?”

“No. I was distracted.” Worried about Lily and forgetting his training. “How did you know I was over there anyhow?”

Mason waggled his phone. “Did you forget Harry had us chipped?”

Ah, yes, chipped much like a pet so the office could track them when they were out in the field and mount a rescue if needed—or notify next of kin.

“Yeah, well, your timing sucks.”

“And the title of best cock block goes to…” Mason grinned and held up his beer.

“I hope you get crabs,” Calvin said with a glare.

“Now that’s just mean!” Mason huffed. “And to think I dropped everything I was doing to check on your ungrateful ass.”

“Sorry. It’s the blue balls talking.” A state that hurt more than it should. “Since I’ve got you here, run a plate for me, would you?” Calvin recited the numbers and letters he’d memorized. It turned out to not be stolen. However, the rental company information on the driver turned out to be fake—the whole thing paid for in cash.

As for the bodies he’d had the cleaners dispose of? The pros submitted a report to the office along with a bill for their services. They actually had identities for the thugs Calvin had killed. Street thugs with lengthy rap sheets, mostly for assaults, thefts, and weapons charges. He saw no link to them and the drug trade in town. What Calvin also didn’t understand was why the two separate attacks.

“Why send those three idiots to attack me and also send a dude to threaten Lily?”

Mason shrugged as he downed his beer. “Hedging their bets? Could be a question of the left hand and right hand not knowing what’s going on.”

“We must be getting close, though.” Why else warn unless the criminals were getting worried?

From here on in, things would get more interesting. The battle lines were drawn. The war begun. Lily, the prize to be protected, even if she didn’t believe there was an assassin next door.

But Calvin soon hoped to change all that and hold the title of lover.