Rafael and his thugs had bolted, their car screeching off. Kneeling on the sidewalk, I held Maggie in my arms. Her gaze darted around, she gasped for breath. Blood seeped from her arm, below the sleeve of her t-shirt.

I put one hand on her cheek. “Maggie. Look at me.”

“I’ve been shot, haven’t I? Have I been shot? Ohmygosh, I’ve been shot.”

I whipped off my shirt. “It’s not that bad, but we should get it looked at.” It seemed like the bullet had only grazed her skin. “I think you’re going into shock.”

“You’re not that good-looking,” she mumbled, her eyes on my chest.

I held in a smile, wrapping my shirt around her arm, tightening it just above the wound, then using the rest to try and stop the bleeding.

“Hold here,” I said. She pressed the shirt into the wound and hissed. “I’m going to lift you now.”

I scooped my arms under her back and lifted her. She was almost as tall as I was, but I had no problem carrying her around the corner to my truck. She could’ve walked, but I didn’t tell her that. It felt nice to hold her without her yelling at me for once. Trembling, she pressed her face into my neck. I opened the passenger door and gently laid her inside, then hurried around to the driver’s seat.

Maggie leaned her head against the glass. Her eyes slid closed.

“Hey, talk to me,” I said, pulling into the road.

“I don’t wanna.” Her face had gone pale. Blood had already soaked through my shirt. Maybe I’d misjudged the wound. I sped up.

“Yell at me then,” I said. “You seem to like that.”

She pivoted her head against the window to look at me. “You deserve it.”

Rafael had said the same thing. I deserved what I got. I’d never thought so before. Now, with Maggie bleeding in front of me, it felt true. “You’re not the first person who’s said that to me tonight.” I glanced at her. “Not gonna pull a gun, are you?”

I smiled but she just blinked at me.

“Was he a client?” she asked.

Client made it sound so posh, as if I were some kind of lawyer.

“Not allowed to divulge that kind of information?” she asked when I didn’t answer.

“Rafael was a client of Simon’s,” I said. “A difficult one.”

“Meaning you kicked the crap out of him.”

She was judging me again. But I couldn’t argue, couldn’t even defend myself. She was lying there in my truck, hurt because of me.

Maggie shivered and pulled her knees up to her chin. She started to close her eyes.

I didn’t want her to pass out so I kept talking. “Him, his brother, his friends. There’s always someone.” I blasted the heat, turning the vents so they blew on her. She let out a sigh.

“If you don’t keep those eyes open, I’ll make you.”

She popped them open and stared at me. I kept my eyes on the road but I could feel her watching me. I shifted in my seat.

“What are you going to do,” she asked. “Hit me?”

Anger uncoiled in my belly. Anger and hurt. “I’ll pretend like you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

At a red light, I wanted to reach for her, but I settled for a look. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Maggie.”

“I know.” She looked shocked by her own words, then quickly added, “Not for four more days.”

I pulled up to Alfonso’s, parking my truck in front of his garage. There weren’t any lights on. Alfonso had better be home.

Grabbing a hoodie from the backseat of the truck, I threw it on, then opened the door for Maggie.

“Where are we?” she asked as I helped her get out. “Is this your house?” She looked at my hoodie and sighed.

“No. Alfonso’s.” I slid my arm around her back and helped her shuffle to the door.

“Shouldn’t I be at a hospital? Who’s Alfonso?”

“Hospital isn’t such a good idea. Alfonso knows what he’s doing.” Usually.

I rang the doorbell multiple times, then pounded on the door for good measure. I didn’t stop pounding until a light came on.

Alfonso opened the door a crack, peering past the chain of the lock.

“Open up,” I said. He didn’t hesitate.

I carried Maggie inside and laid her gently on the nearest couch. “She’s been shot, but I think it’s just a graze. Can you fix it?”

Alfonso nodded. “Let me get my stuff.” He hurried away. Alfonso was a man of few words and I’d never appreciated it more.

On the couch, Maggie was shivering. I started to unzip my hoodie.

“Stop taking your shirt off,” she said. “I’m fine.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked it.”

She snorted, but her cheeks turned a faint pink. That was better than the pallor of a few moments ago.

I knelt beside the couch near her head. The sound of Alfonso rifling through cupboards echoed down the hall.

“Why did you bring me here?”

I shifted closer, sitting down, my shoulder next to her head. “Hospitals ask too many questions.”

She gave me a reproachful look.

“Don’t worry.” A strand of hair had fallen across her face and I gently brushed it away. “Alfonso will take good care of you.”

She leaned away from my touch.

I scowled. “Trust me, would you?”

She returned my scowl. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

So she trusted me then? That was hard to believe.

Maggie was quiet, but her chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Hey,” I said. “It’s going to be okay.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked up at the ceiling. Her whole body tensed, and her face turned hard as if willing herself not to cry. I ran my fingers through her hair. I’d wanted to touch her, and hadn’t wanted to, since the day I’d met her.

She reached for me with her good arm and I took her hand, pressing it against my chest. She seemed to relax.

Alfonso removed my shirt from her arm and checked the wound. Maggie didn’t let go of my hand and I didn’t let go of hers.

“Just a graze?” I asked. Maggie looked from me to Alfonso. He nodded.

“Won’t need stitches,” he said. “I’ll clean and bandage it.”

“Just a graze?” she asked, squeezing my fingers. “Just?”

I tried not to laugh. “Did you want worse? Hoping to get some street cred out of this?”

She shot me a dirty look.

“You should get a tetanus shot,” Alfonso said. “Can’t do that here. But drink this.”

Her eyes narrowed on the shot glass he was holding. “What is it?”

“Vodka. It’ll take the edge off.”

“I don’t drink.”

I took the glass from Alfonso and held it in front of her. “It’s gonna hurt when he cleans it. This will help.”

She considered it, then grabbed the glass and chugged. She immediately started coughing. “That’s disgusting! Why did you make me drink that?”

I tried not to laugh.

Alfonso began to clean the wound, digging at it with a cloth.

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. “Ow.”

I held up the empty glass, silently asking if she wanted another. She nodded.

When Alfonso was done, he left the room, taking his supplies with him.

“I don’t think the vodka worked. That still hurt,” Maggie said as I helped her to stand. “Except that I’m all warm inside. Warm and fuzzy. Like a teddy bear. Wait, am I drunk?”

“Probably not.” Although she let me lead her outside by the hand, so maybe she was after all. We climbed into the truck. “Where do you live?”

“Crampton Oasis.”

I pulled out of the driveway.

“But I don’t want to go home.”

I glanced at her in surprise.

“Actually, I do. No, I don’t.” She let out a frustrated growl. “I don’t know what I want.”

My fingers tapped the steering wheel as I drove out of Alfonso’s neighborhood. At a stop sign, I turned to look at her. She was staring at me.

“What about seeing the sights?”

“I see the sights.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

She really didn’t drink if two shots of vodka had affected her this much. My truck idled at the stop sign. “I promised I would show you the great parts of Vegas. Remember?”

“I already found the park. I don’t think there’s anything else.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You have much to learn, my young grasshopper.”

She pointed to herself. “Maggie. My name is Maggie.”

I drove. “We’ll start with the strip, Maggie.”

We didn’t get out of the car, but there was always traffic on the strip, giving Maggie enough time to look. We drove past the Wynn, the Venetian, and Treasure Island. She caught a glimpse of the fountain show in front of the Bellagio, then whipped her head around to look at the fake Eiffel Tower on the other side of the street.

“I can’t believe I haven’t come down here before now,” she said, her eyes wide as she tried to take in everything. “It’s all so…shiny.”

The streets were full of tourists despite the hour. Bass pumped from a car nearby. Maggie rolled down the window and nodded her head to the beat.

“You’ll have to walk it one day, when it’s not too hot out,” I said.

“I will.”

“Just don’t take anything people are handing out to you.”

She glanced at me. “Why not?”

“Trust me.” She was so churchy, she’d be horrified at the ads for the seedier side of Vegas.

At the Mandalay Bay, I turned around and we drove it again. Then I took her to Fremont Street, where the neon lights were so bright, it was like daytime. We idled outside the Springs Preserve, and the Neon Museum.

“What’s this place?” she asked as I pulled in front of a large, pale brick building.

“It’s the Mob Museum.” I switched radio stations to something a little softer.

“It’s no wonder you like it,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s fascinating.”

She looked at me with her eyebrows raised.

“No, really, it is.” I hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but her comment bugged me.

“Is Al Capone your hero or something?”

I frowned. “I don’t kill people, Maggie.”

“At least there’s that.” She continued to stare at me. “That, and you’re hot.”

I blinked, surprised. And then my lips spread into a smile.

She closed her eyes. “Pretend I didn’t say that out loud.”

“Nope. You don’t get to take that from me.” She’d defended me tonight, plus she thought I was hot. Progress.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said. I smirked. “Can you take me home now?”

Maggie rested her head on the window while I drove to her apartment, my phone telling me the way. She’d fallen asleep and I didn’t want to wake her. I parked, then lifted her from the truck.

“I can walk, you know,” she mumbled, but I didn’t put her down.

“Just tell me which apartment it is.”

“Fifteen.” She nuzzled into my neck, her breath hot on my skin. Her fingers played with the ends of my hair; she probably didn’t realize it.

I knocked on number fifteen but there was no answer. “Where’s your key?”

“Bag.”

I cursed. I didn’t have Maggie’s bag. We probably left it at the gym. Hopefully not on the sidewalk. “You’re going to have to stand.” I put her down and she slumped against the wall.

Sometimes, when helping Simon get what he needed to put a bad guy away, a little B&E was required. But smashing a window or kicking in a door only leads to more questions and loose ends, so Simon had one of the cons who owed him one teach me how to pick a lock. Given my size it probably looked comical to see me fiddle with tiny torsion wrenches on a tiny lock, but it turned out I had a knack for it. I always kept the wrenches in a hidden part of my wallet, in case of just such an emergency.

It took only a couple of minutes to pick the lock, then I swung Maggie into my arms again and carried her inside. She didn’t object.

There were two rooms, but it was easy to tell which was hers—it smelled like her, fresh and fruity, like an orchard. I laid her on the bed, and she fell asleep instantly. I pulled off her shoes and covered her with the sunny yellow blanket, bright, like she was. Her face was smooth and peaceful as she slept, no trace of the anger or the superiority that always seemed to be there when she looked at me.

Tonight had been different. She’d stepped in front of me with no fear of Rafael and his thugs. She might have even saved my life. That had to mean something.

Did I mean something to her? It was impossible, but why else would she have done it? Why not let me fend for myself? She’d made it clear she despised my way of life, my job, my boss. So why put herself in harm’s way for me? She’d said she trusted me. She’d actually wanted to spend time with me.

I wanted to believe she felt something. Believe it would be okay if I climbed in bed beside her, stretched my body against hers, breathe in her scent until I fell asleep. I wanted to wake up next to her, feel her skin and her lips against mine.

But mostly, right then, I wanted to thank her. For doing what no one else in my life would have, except maybe McCrary. Not even Simon would’ve stepped in front of a gun for me. If I was ever going to be the right kind of man for Maggie, I had to go straight. Leave Simon behind for good.

After I left, shutting the door quietly behind me, I pulled out my phone and looked up LVMPD’s Internal Affairs department. There he was on the contacts page. Hopkins. It was time to give him a call.