Shane kept to the edges of the room, the better to stay out of the way but still keep tabs on what was going on.

The FBI had moved them out of their offices and to a US Marshall safe house to preserve the idea that the agency was not involved. Once they knew Varun Basu was in the wind, things got exponentially more complicated. They were working on two fronts, and only one was in the Alpha Team’s wheelhouse, so they were practically on house arrest.

He should go check on Lacey, but she’d just about shoved him out of the bedroom and locked the door. She wanted time to think, to process, and that was fine. But he was worried about her after watching the video yet again. He didn’t know what he could do to be there for her or help her, but he didn’t think leaving her to stew about it was the right thing.

“Shane.” Travis barked his name, bringing him crashing back into the present.

“Yeah?” He crossed to stand next to Travis and peer at the screen in front of him.

“I need you to help look at this footage. We’re getting access to all kinds of places, and we don’t have near the eyes on them that we need to.”

“Sure thing, what am I looking for?”

“Marcos, someone who looks like one of his guys, or the clients.” Travis sighed. “The dad is in the wind. Who knows how long he’d been gone from his house? He had lights on timers and everything.”

“I got a hit!” someone yelled from the other side of the room.

Shane and Travis strode toward the man pumping his fist in the air.

“Talk,” Susan barked, headed toward the same man.

“Varun Basu hopped a plane from LA to Atlanta two days ago. He landed, rented a car, and that’s all we’ve got on him, but...” The man typed away.

“Do you have GPS on the rental?” Shane asked.

“You’re stealing my thunder, man.” The agent sighed and gestured at his screen. “The car is sitting outside this house, not far from where you guys were last night.”

“I want a cruiser to do a drive by, get me SWAT, and where’s Kyle?” Susan turned.

“Right behind you.” Kyle had crept up with no one the wiser.

“I want your team on-site to consult—not to engage. Understand?”

“That sounds fantastic, ma’am.” Kyle glanced at Shane. “You heard the lady. Tell the others to prep to roll out. Now. Travis, you stay here, keep looking for Varun and stay with Lacey.”

Shane jerked his head in a nod, then took off for the stairs.

The others had seized the opportunity for some shut eye without a backward glance, but Shane hadn’t been able to. Not after seeing the video, even in quadruple time.

He climbed to the second floor and went first to the room where the guys had crashed. He stuck his head in and flipped on the lights. A chorus of groans filled the room.

“Rolling out in ten,” he said.

That stopped the sounds of protest.

Feet thumped the ground as they began gearing up.

Shane swallowed and set his eyes on the closed bedroom door. His gear was in there, along with his heart. At some point Lacey had not just burrowed into it, she’d stolen it. And now, he was going to go make the world a little safer for her.

Lacey perched on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off the end, and stared at the cream colored carpet.

She couldn’t love Shane.

That was silly.

It was the situation, the heightened emotions. She’d never been rescued before. All of that was bound to create a new response from her. Wasn’t it?

Her heart thumped inside her chest, and it felt as though claws were digging into her soft tissue, each beat bringing that organ closer to the surface.

Her head and heart weren’t agreeing.

One said this was all situational, the other said this was very real.

Which was right?

Which was wrong?

What did she want?

She’d shoved Shane out of the room earlier when he’d tried to comfort her because she just couldn’t be bothered to think about Marcos or his people any more. Right now, she was drowning in an ocean of turbulent feelings she didn’t know how to navigate.

Honesty was the best policy, even when it hurt. It was why she’d told Shane she’d leave, she’d done her best to be up front with him, and now... She loved him. Or thought she did.

Fuck.

What did she know about love and feelings?

What if she told him? What would he do then?

Probably laugh at her. That’s what she’d do if the roles were reversed.

If she kept this to herself, would it die down after a while?

Or would it eat her up from the inside out?

She didn’t know what the right thing to do was, and it was wrecking her.

Someone tapped on the door.

She jerked her head up, staring at the knob.

“Lacey? Can I come in?”

She could feel the rumble of his voice on her skin and something deeper responding to him. She wanted to wrap herself around him so tight she’d never come undone.

She’d sat around numerous campfires listening to indigenous songs of love, seen people all over the world living happily next to their soul mate, and she’d never understood that urge until now.

Did that make this real?

“Lacey?”

“Come in,” she said.

“You have to unlock the door.”

“Oh. Right.”

She scrambled off the bed and twisted the flimsy lock. Shane pushed the door open and she stepped back, staring up into his face.

That first moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d felt something. Was that love at first sight? Was that why he’d been able to single-handedly drive her crazy?

She opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t prove how out of her mind she was.

“You get any rest?” He briefly squeezed her shoulder before grabbing his vest and pulling it on.

“Where are you going?” All thoughts of professing her feelings evaporated.

“We got a hit on Basu. The FBI want us there as backup or something. Travis will be here, with some of the other FBI, so you’re safe. Try to rest, okay?”

“But...”

She didn’t want him to go.

This whole thing was dangerous, and Shane had already been forced to kill for her once. She didn’t want more blood on his hands because of her.

He grabbed the last pieces of his equipment and crossed to her.

Shane cupped her cheek and all reasonable thought fled from her head. Lacey’s mouth went dry and she swayed toward him.

It was like he was one of the wonders of the world she’d dropped everything to go and see. He pulled her in, ate up her attention, until all she could think about was him. She’d never claimed to be a rational person, she just did what felt right, and Shane felt right.

“I’m coming back for you, got it?”

“Don’t go?” She leaned against him, the Kevlar vest and chest plate a barrier between their bodies.

“I’ve got to.”

He ducked his head and kissed her brow. She squeezed him tight and closed her eyes, wishing she could do something to change his mind. But to do that would alter who Shane was, what she had grown to love about him. She could no sooner ask him to not be himself than Shane could ask her to stay put. And therein lie the problem. How could she love Shane and continue to be herself?

“I’ll be here.” She let go of him and took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself. “Can we talk? When you get back, I mean.”

“Sure.”

“Shane, get your ass down here,” Kyle yelled.

“Got to go.” Shane nodded at her, turned on his heel, and jogged away from her.

Lacey bit her lip and stared at the empty doorway, those three words ready to burst from inside of her so hard she shook. She placed her trembling hand against the door and pushed it shut.

She loved Shane York, and she didn’t know what to do about that except stay put and wait on him to come back to her.

The absurdity that it was her waiting on someone to come home was not lost on her.

Marcos paced the house.

The Torres brothers were not answering his calls.

Varun was not responding.

Alex and three other guys had vanished without a word.

Most of the other guys were drunk off their asses.

Knowing they had the targets in their custody wasn’t comforting, not with so many other things spinning out of control.

Marcos was ready to offload one problem so he could tackle the issue of Lacey Miles. He’d never met a more frustrating woman.

God, he regretted scooping her up.

“Marcos? Marcos!” someone bellowed from the front of the house.

“What now?” he muttered.

They’d been forced to squat in a house for sale after this morning’s raid. This whole situation was a wreck. He needed Varun to make contact, for someone to pay him, and to get this deal over with.

“What are you looking at? Get away from the windows.” He glared at the backsides of six men clustered around the front window like a bunch of kids waiting for Santa Clause.

None of them moved.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

He stepped forward, peering out over the tops of the men’s heads.

A ballistic armored tactical truck sat across the driveway and several police cruisers formed a defensive line around the property. For such a large number of people, they’d moved in quietly.

Shit.

Marcos’ mouth dried up and his mind went blank.

“Sir? Marcos? Sir?”

“What?” His voice was rough, dry.

“Any minute now, they’re going to want to start negotiating.”

Marcos glanced at the man.

“You used to be a cop.” He remembered that detail a little late.

“Yes, sir.”

“You know the drill?”

“I do.”

“Then you do the talking. I don’t negotiate.”

Marcos turned on his heel and stalked to the back of the house, away from prying eyes, and braced his hands on the wall.

This shit storm just got real in a way he didn’t know how to handle.

“I found her.”

Varun grunted a reply. About damn time.

The pause stretched on.

“Did you hear me? I found her,” Pedro said.

“I heard you the first time. Where is she?” Did the man want a pat on the head for doing his damn job?

“This house. It wasn’t easy to track her down, man.”

“Are the men ready?”

“About that... Since they’re turning on Marcos, they want double.”

Varun grit his teeth. He’d expected as much from mercenaries.

“I’ll pay Alex and his friends the original fee up front, and a bonus after, but only if we’re successful. Their track record does not recommend them well.”

“I’ll tell them. When do you want to do this?”

“Soon.” Varun glanced at the news feed showing SWAT surrounding an average-looking home.

Marcos was still playing his part, but this time he was the distraction. Varun was done letting other people do his work for him. The only job done well was the one he did himself.

Lacey sifted through her inbox, trying to weed out the junk. It was obvious Josh had done some sorting and replying for her, but not enough. It would take weeks to work through it all, and that was just what she had. Once she started putting out feelers, finding out who had an opportunity for her...

The idea just didn’t hold as much appeal as staying put.

Well, not here. Atlanta would never be a place she wanted to reside, now that Josh was gone. Shane lived in Seattle. She’d only passed through the city a few times on her way elsewhere.

Could she be happy in one spot?

Would Shane be interested?

There was the very real chance he wouldn’t be. She didn’t exactly have a lot to offer him.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and did her best to put those thoughts out of her head. That was why she’d ventured downstairs, to stop the loop of thinking herself to death. Starting it again wouldn’t do any good.

A few of the agents trickled out. Some stayed. Most, it seemed, had gone with the SWAT unit.

Lacey couldn’t believe the person behind it all was Dev’s own father. It was so outlandish, she couldn’t wrap her head around it. How did that happen?

Soon it would be all over, though.

Marcos wouldn’t do anything terribly stupid. He had a son to live for, didn’t he?

Lacey shut the laptop and pushed to her feet.

The TV had the news on, covering the whole situation in garish detail. She couldn’t make out people from the angles they showed, but Shane and the others were there.

As long as everyone came home from this, she’d call it a good day.

But what if—?

Nope.

She needed to get up, move around, find something to take her mind off the one thing plaguing her.

Lacey ambled into the kitchen and considered food options. There wasn’t a lot there, which meant someone who had money—and a phone—would need to order for the whole team. They had no idea how long this situation at the house Marcos was holed up in would go, either.

She chewed her lip and shut the fridge.

The landline rang, the phone on the counter flashing like a disco ball.

She glanced at the other agents, then back to the phone.

“Anyone getting that, or should I?” she asked.

“You can get it,” someone called out over their shoulder.

Lacey snagged the cordless phone out of the cradle and hit the Talk button.

“Hello?”

“Lacey?” a familiar voice asked.

“Shane—what are you doing calling me?” She turned toward the TV. “You’re...”

“Just checking on you. We’re on the back line of this, around the corner from the house. We have to watch the local news to even see what’s going on.”

“Is it as crazy there as it looks?”

“Nah, high energy, but they know what they’re doing. We’re just here in case they need something. They treating you okay, there? Susan mentioned a lot of the office guys are going home, but the security detail is staying.”

“Yeah, there’s like four people here now, and me. I’m still here.” She leaned on the kitchen counter and wiggled her bare toes against the tile. What did she say to him? They couldn’t have any kind of important conversation now, but if she didn’t tell him something soon she’d burst.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, just checking. Not sure how long this is going to take here. Marcos has handed off communicating with someone who speaks cop jargon, and it’s complicating things. Whoever this guy is, he knows what to ask for.”

“Aanya and Dev must be so scared. This is awful.”

“It is, but the way I see it, these are mercenaries. They aren’t going to risk their lives if they can help it. They’ll draw this situation out, play all their angles, and when they have no more moves left, they’ll make a deal. I’ve seen this happen enough. It’s scary, but we aren’t dealing with a crime of passion. The men in there have something to live for, or they wouldn’t have signed on with Marcos in the first place.”

“Wow. Okay, knowing that actually makes me feel a bit better.”

“Yeah.”

Lacey chewed her lip. She wanted everyone to go home safely. Too many people had already died on both sides. Going home, ending this, was the best possible outcome.

What else did she say now? She didn’t want to hang up, but anything she did want to talk about couldn’t be discussed now.

She could talk about the weather, what she’d like to eat, email, but none of it was what she really wanted to say to him.

I think I love you.

Lacey straightened and turned, her feet restless.

The afternoon light cast long shadows across the back yard, but it wasn’t yet dark enough to hide the masked figures creeping toward the patio door. The gauze curtains were thin enough she could even make out the man in the lead’s dark brown eyes—locked on her.

“Shane! They’re here,” she yelled into the phone.

The brown-eyed man kicked the glass pane, shattering it into pieces.

Lacey gripped the phone, pivoted and sprinted out of the kitchen.

The men behind her yelled, their orders blurring.

The agents at the TV started and turned, but they were too slow.

An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her down. She hit the floor with her forearms, the man’s weight on top of her driving the air out of her lungs. Bullets tore through the air above her, the sound of the blast deafening.

The man on top of her grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up, pulling her across his shoulders. She was too stunned to fight back. It wasn’t until they passed through the now broken out door that her brain seemed to comeback on-line, but it was too late.

She was tossed through the open door of an SUV in the neighbors’ drive, almost into the lap of a man in a beige, linen suit.

Lacey stared up into a face she’d only seen in person once.

“Mr. Basu...”

The man scowled at her and jerked the cordless phone from her hand. He tossed it out the door a moment before the tires squealed and they pealed out.

This was not good...