John stopped to look in on Malcolm, forcing a focus he wasn’t feeling as thoughts of Emily intruded on his ability to get the simplest task completed.

“Hello?” Malcolm sat at his worktable in the back room of headquarters. “You’re thinking about her again.”

“Who?” John turned back to the job at hand, feigning innocence.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “You’re like this crazy, conservative, downhome boy who wants to make a commitment to the first girl you’ve ever fallen for—”

“I am not.” A frown started above John’s eyes. He opened the small fridge under the desk and pulled out a water bottle. “And I never said anything about making a commitment, just that—”

“Are you a virgin?”

“What the fuck?” He almost laughed. “Is that really how you see me? And what’s wrong with being a virgin? Or conservative? Or waiting?”

“Nothing, man.”

But John could tell—to Malcolm—there was. “You get burned?”

“Psh.” Malcolm swept a hand through his non-regulation haircut and changed the subject. “You hear about the new client?”

“No. Another personal security contract?”

“Yeah. This time one of the senator’s sons. Real prick, I hear.”

John straightened. “Hey, Mal?”

“Yeah,” his friend mumbled as he bent even closer over his laptop.

“You been getting any weird feelings lately? Like you’re being watched?”

“Nooo.” Malcolm looked up and raised his brows. “You mention that tidbit to Hawk?”

John knew he had to; as a business, they didn’t take anything for granted, and no gut feeling was ignored. “Not yet.”

Malcolm nailed him with a dirty look.

“I know. I’m on it.”

“Good.” Malcolm tapped a few more lines into his computer. “So, you bang her yet?”

John smacked his friend in the back of the head as he was leaving. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He could hear Malcolm laughing, knew Malcolm had him pegged.

He hadn’t slept with her. Wouldn’t sleep with her just because she was available or because he needed to—like with every breath in him needed to. His mama hadn’t raised him that way. But he liked her. And he wanted her.

“I would certainly like to know,” Emily said from the doorway on the opposite side of the hall. She leaned there, still in her black slacks and that white shirt that he really did want to rip off her. It covered her like a nun’s habit, but that only made what was under there more enticing.

He crossed to her, got in her space, and lifted her chin. He leaned in and spoke quietly into her ear. “You’ll be the first to know.”

Her breath hitched as she cleared her throat, uncertainty in her eyes. “You really having these being watched feelings?”

“You’re a snoop.”

“No,” she answered, so plainly he knew she wasn’t teasing. “Just walking by. But then it started getting good, so yes…eavesdropping.”

He liked her honesty. “It’s been off and on for a while. More since I went for you.” Malcolm was right about being upfront, though. Everyone needed to know. “I’ll talk to Hawk today.”

She nodded, but that worried look didn’t go away. “Jamie asked me to go out to the shooting range. Want to meet me there? We can head over to Tyler’s house after work. Bring a pint of ice cream?”

He grinned. “You have a soft spot.”

At a loud crash from the front of the building, he reached for his sidearm. “Stay here,” he said sharply as he entered the hallway. Stacy was already out there, mirroring his engaged stance. He nodded to her and they moved forward.

“Tyler has entered the building,” Josie called out, and John and Stacy both lifted their guns and relaxed. “All clear.”

Stacy raised a brow in his direction.

“I didn’t know he was so close to a breaking point, Stacy. I swear. This morning, he was upset but fine.”

Tyler’s bloodshot eyes gave him away. When he saw John, he stumbled over and grabbed his arm. “You have to help me.”

John wanted to shake the guy. “Jesus, Tyler. I only left you eight hours ago. What the fuck? This is not the way to keep your daughter out of the system.”

“Keisha came for her and took her. But she was messed up, John.”

John frowned. His glance over Tyler’s head found Emily.

“She’s holed up in her apartment, won’t let anyone in or out.” Tyler might be sweating bullets, but on closer inspection, John saw clear eyes, not the eyes of a guy too strung out to make heads or tails of anything. “She called me and said to come over and bring cash. Lots of cash, and she’d give me Jenny back. Said it was time for her to go—for good. But that she needed money.” Tyler clutched at John’s shirt. “She hasn’t been taking her meds. I told her to take her meds. She fucking stopped, John. And now she has Jenny. I shouldn’t have let her go. Please, ya gotta help me.”

“You have to call the police, Tyler.”

“No,” he shouted, backing away. “I can’t. She’ll kill her. Please. I need your help. I need you and your team.”

John frowned. His gut instinct was to say no. It was a police matter.

“I trust you.” The man had turned to pleading. “You’ll see she isn’t hurt. You and your men… No red tape, no waiting.”

John sighed. “Even if we do help, there will still be waiting.”

“Active waiting is better than sitting in my goddamned living room. For how long? Hours? Days?”

“They have hostage negotiators.”

“You can talk to her, John. You and Bobby. You always had a way with her when she was at her craziest.”

But still John hesitated.

“We’re wasting time,” Tyler yelled, throwing his arms wide. Josie ducked, just in time to avoid getting clipped on the shoulder.

Malcolm stepped up, restrained Tyler, and threw him down, wresting his arm behind his back.

“Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Malcolm stood and lifted Tyler to his feet, which was almost comical, since Malcolm was short—er.

John got in Tyler’s face. “You almost took out Josie. Get it together, man. Keep your head, or I’ll be the one to call the police.”

“What’s going on?” Hawk entered through the front door on the heels of Tancredo.

“Tyler’s got an issue. Possible hostage. His wife took Jenny and is holed up in her apartment, wanting a ransom.” John had a thing about family, though. And Tyler had saved his butt a time or two. “I suggest we check it out. Maybe she’s cooled off and will let one of us in.”

Hawk nodded. “You take lead on this one, John.”

“Thanks.” He found Emily staring at him. This was going to be her first assignment. “Let’s meet in conference room B. Malcolm, you’ve got business with the West Coast. So you’re out. Emily. Bobby. Tan.”

“I’ve got a meeting with my mother’s lawyer, actually,” Tan said, looking at his watch. “I’m out on this one.”

“Craig and Marcus.” John waved the two men back. Tyler went as well.

The interview process was straightforward. John asked about the apartment and building, the last twenty-four hours, and what had led to this major cliff jump. They’d have to get through it—no mistakes, no incidents. “Hawk would you call your contact with the police. If things go to shit, we’ll need backup. We’ll need that sanction.”

“You got it,” Hawk said from his position in the doorway, arms over his chest. “One sanction, coming right up.”

“Emily, this will be your first go-around with the team. You ready?”

“Yes.”

John paused. “It’s only been a week. If you have any doubt—”

She looked at him, and she looked pissed. “I’m doing this. I agreed. No matter the reason. I’m here. Are you doubting me?”

“No, geez—”

“Then don’t ever question me. Especially in front of the entire team.”

She’d put him in his place, rightfully. He nodded. “I apologize.” He took in everyone’s gaze. “Okay, we’ll go in one hour. Everyone, gear up.”

Despite the tension of the situation, excitement raced through his veins. He’d been waiting two years to work with Emily Rogers, sharpshooter.

He was finally getting his chance.

* * *

The apartment was in the building south of her. An older, circa-1970 aluminum-sided four-story building. The sun was starting to set, which was messing with her scope, so she pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and stepped out of the window frame until orders came through.

So far, in the past hour, had John called to the apartment. He’d gone up and knocked on the door, even yelling through it to get the woman’s attention. Keisha hadn’t budged. She wanted money and she wanted it right away.

Hawk was working that angle with the police. But Emily knew, from past experience, their options for a good outcome were becoming slim to none. Eventually, either the police or John would force an entry and take Keisha Williams out. From her lookout, Emily had a clear view of the small corner apartment.

Voices continued in her head as negotiations heightened and orders were given. They were going to move in, John leading the way.

She moved her scope back in line with the apartment window.

Keisha was still crying. Manically. Anger mottled her face.

Flashes of Emily’s father’s angry face struck unexpectedly. She blinked back the long-forgotten memories.

It was her job to get Jenny out…

The little girl sat quietly, her gaze going from her mother to the far corner. She’d squeeze her eyes tight and tuck her face into her knees. Fearful, as if something was back there. “Damn,” Emily whispered as she moved again, taking her rifle and setting it at the window on the southwest wall. If only she could see. Just a bit more of an angle. She strained, as if her will could make that corner visible. Were there two adults when everyone thought there was the one? Perhaps another child?

“Hold off, John,” she said low into the mic. “Give me another minute.”

“She’s starting to lose it, Em.”

“I’m going to the next room over,” she told him, hoping he would trust her. “I need fifty seconds.”

Her earpiece went silent as she scrambled out of the room and into the next—another empty office. She opened the window, struggling to push the weight up, and set the tripod on the flat surface of the window sill. She held her breath in that moment before lining up her scope…and then felt relief when she found the apartment and indeed, the west side of that room.

“Shit,” she said. “John, she’s rigged the place with a bomb. Far corner of the living room. I couldn’t see it from the other window. It’s crude, but it’s going to leave a mark. She’s got an entire bin of shrapnel loaded to go up with the explosive. The timing mechanism is old school, on a clock.” This was what Jenny kept looking at. “Two and fifteen, John.”

“We’ve gotta go in,” Tyler said from the van where he’d been confined after losing it on Hawk.

“There’s another circuit, John.” She moved her scope slowly. “From the IED to the door. Stay where you are. Repeat, do not enter the room.”

“Hell. Emily, what about the second window?” John asked.

She immediately moved her scope to the window opposite her northern position. “Yes, the window is clear…if you’re interested in climbing four stories.” Her gaze went back to the bomb. “I think I can defuse it from here.”

His silence was neither critical nor accepting, so she explained. “I’ve seen this kind of device. It’s crude enough. If I can split the wire from the detonator…it would render the device safe.”

“What about the door?”

“The wire for the door splits off away from the detonator. It’s not backup but a second choice.”

A bead of sweat ran down her temple. “Forty seconds, John.”

The fact that no one else spoke was a tribute to how this team worked. Each knowing when input was necessary. And no one had to question the final say. The trust ran deep.

“Go.”

In moments, Emily had her tripod back up and her rifle engaged. Through her scope, she targeted the thin wire that ran across the room. The woman continued to make a ruckus, big wails that racked her body. The little girl’s shoulders shook.

“Stop crying,” the woman screamed, and strode toward Jenny, clearing the line of Emily’s fire. She slapped Jenny, hard, making Emily blink. She forced her brain to focus.

Emily took a deep breath, let it out, and let the world around her disappear as every cell in her body woke up and vibrated with lost energy. She squeezed the trigger.

The line to the device split and Emily about laughed in relief as sweat dripped down her temple.

The woman whirled around and glared out the window—catching Emily with those dark, angry eyes. The surprise of those eyes finding her so quickly had Emily rearing back. “Jesus.” She patted her chest. “Clear, John. Clear. Get that poor girl out of there.”

In the next instant, the door was thrown open. The team rushed through and took the woman down.

John slowly approached Jenny and crouched in front of her. Emily’s heart melted a little. He was so good with kids and families. He was an oddball in this industry. But so were most of the men at Hawk Security.

She sat back on her heels, lightheaded. Her hands shook in the aftermath. She’d forgotten what doing this kind of work did to her. The adrenaline that raced through her made it hard to breathe, hard to swallow or hear or do anything.

“Answer, damn it.” John’s voice finally broke through the fog.

“We did it,” she responded.

“You did it,” he said. “Meet at the van.”

“Shit,” she whispered as she switched off her earpiece. Emily turned and sat, sliding down the wall until her rear touched the floor.

She hadn’t been sure until today. Not until the moment she’d pulled the trigger, until she’d thought outside that box and avoided the kill. The woman was so messed up and had wanted to take her own life, would have taken her daughter’s as well.

But today…

Emily had done something good. She’d stopped violence instead of being the cause of it. She got up, packed her gear, and went downstairs to the front door.

It swung open as she approached, and John came through, a grin on his face, as he lifted her into a bear hug. She couldn’t stop the smile, even as she hid her face against his neck and breathed in the scent of him.

“You were awesome, Emily.” He set her back. “Badass, taking out the IED with your fucking rifle. Shit, you’ll be the talk of the teams for months to come.”

Heat rose on her neck and she shrugged. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just doing my job?” She laughed. “It was no big deal. Seriously.”

“Yeah, well, I know it was more than that to you,” he said, cupping her cheek with his hand. “You saved Jenny’s life…and her mother’s life.”

“Yeah, it feels good.”

“Come on. We’re all meeting over at Hawk’s.”

When she hoisted her bag over her shoulder, John took it from her hands.

She rolled her eyes, but let him take it. As it happened, her arms were still shaking anyway.

He led her out.

And for the first time in years, Emily felt part of a team. She’d missed it.

But no matter how much she missed it, she feared it far more. If this was a lucky break, what would happen to the next guy caught in her crosshairs?