Mary Jane heard the sound of Wyatt and Cody’s boots trudging through sand. She’d awoken when the truck came to a jolting stop. With not much time to react, she peered through hooded lenses, hoping they thought she was asleep. The hairy giants’ faces looked just alike, but their bodies were the before-and-after pictures of a long stint at the gym. Wyatt had tons of jagged muscles. Cody did not. She knew who was which as they’d argued with each other when speeding away from the motel and apparently nobody had told these idiots not to use code names while abducting someone.

Wyatt whistled.

“Wyatt, I don’t know about this,” Cody stammered. He rubbed the sweat that ran down the furry skin of his neck. “Mary Jane looks damn near dead if’n you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you!” Wyatt seemed older, or at least his bulky frame allowed him to call the shots. He leaned his hand over the rail and touched Mary Jane’s bloodied temple. She forced herself not to tense. Her caramel skin had lost its glow. Her hair was matted with dried blood and she’d taken a hit to the head from when they went over the tracks.

His hand trailed down her soft neck, and he pulled up the large diner shirt and licked his lips. “Well, she ain’t dead, still warm. C’mon, let’s have fun with her while she’s out. We can tell Beasley the cop kept tryna get her, so it took a while. Help me heft her out, and you can have a few minutes with her too.”

Cody grabbed her legs as Wyatt grabbed under her arms. They carried her, careful of the upturned planks on the porch, and entered a dark, dusty house. Mary Jane bit her lip as Wyatt abruptly dropped her on the low, matted couch in the living room. He knelt on the floor in front of her seemingly unconscious body.

She mentally calculated that his face was perched just over hers as he argued, “Go on, bro. Uh, call your fat ass ol’ lady and check in like you usually do while I have a little fun. It only takes you a minute or two anyway.”

“Don’t call my girl fat!” Cody frowned. Catching the anger in Wyatt’s squared shoulders, he backed away.

From Mary Jane’s side peripheral, she peered through her eyelashes and saw him pull the Swiss Army knife out of his utility belt. She tapered her breathing, waiting for him to place the knife down in order to have a better chance at self-defense. He slit the collar of her shirt down the “Diner 24/7” words, and then tossed the blade onto the coffee table. It clattered and landed between empty beer bottles.

“Mmmm.” Wyatt rubbed her lace bra. His large hands couldn’t grab enough of her soft skin. His clammy hands trembled as they glided down her waist and she forced herself to wait for the perfect time. Breathing heavily, he popped the button of her jeans. Hastily, he bunched his pants and boxers around his ankles too lazy to fully undress. Bingo, with his pants down, she’d have some leverage. As Wyatt leaned in to kiss her, Mary Jane reared back and busted the creep in the nose with her forehead.

Wyatt’s vision instantly blurred. Shrieking, he fell back on the coffee table. It caved in as he tried to get up, but his bunched jeans made it difficult for him to move. To his horror, he grimaced as Mary Jane leaned down before him.

She grabbed the knife from the floor. Her fingers firmly wrapped around his limp penis. He shrieked as she rammed the knife into the base of his scrotum.

“No, no!”

“Oh, yes,” Mary Jane affirmed. Lips taut, she swiveled the knife, and the rubbery dick disconnected from Wyatt’s body as Cody came running into the room.

“Are you crazy?” Cody screeched. She could barely hear him above Wyatt’s scream of agony.

In one swift movement, Mary Jane tossed the rubbery stick at Cody’s face. Wyatt screamed like a scalded cat, holding his private area, blood spurting. He choked on the blood coming from his nose, and the ear-shattering screech transformed into gurgling coughs.

I am Anya Randolph!

She jumped over the table and jabbed at Cody’s mouth.

Finally, sucked out of the traumatizing moment, the lanky man ducked. Cody attempted to connect his elbow with her ribs. She moved to the side. In the tight confines of the small living room, she couldn’t power-kick him. Pain prickled through her knuckles as she connected with Cody’s pointy, strong jaw. His head snapped back at the very moment the front door burst open. Cody froze. Mary Jane rammed his frail body into the wall. Her forearm slammed against his chin this time forcing it in the opposite direction of her other hand, holding his temple. His neck cracked, and a second later his dead body slid to the floor. She did an about-face in a nanosecond. Fingertips poised on the knife base, she was ready to throw it toward the intruder.

Every fiber in her body heightened to the max as sunlight streamed into the darkened living room. Wrist cocked, she peered through the bright glare of sunlight. All the air in her chest exploded.

Mary Jane dropped the knife, and it clattered to the hardwood floor. Her hands went to her hips. Wulf stood there, his gaze sparkling with relief. Glenn stopped just at his side, gawking at her.

“Glenn, take your eyes off my bra or I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, I . . .” He glanced down.

She glanced at the liar and turned away. Taking in the small home with the long hallway, she went into the bathroom first. The sink was riddled with old hair shavings and mucked to the rim with dirt. She grimaced while touching the knob to rinse the blood off her hands. She walked back into the hall and headed to the next door, which led into a tiny bedroom. Going to a dresser, checkered with missing drawers, she rummaged through the first one and grabbed a wife beater. It must have belonged to the skinnier one, because it went taut against her chest and abs as she pulled it on.

Back in the living room, she greeted Glenn with a back pat as he stood frozen, gazing at the crime scene. “You all right, Glenn?”

“I . . .” he stuttered, face a greenish hue. Glenn started running down the hall, holding a hand over his mouth.

“The bathroom is the second on the right,” she called after him. Shaking her head, she glared at Wulf’s chuckle. “What?”

“What do you mean what? We crossed three hick towns to save you!”

“Save me?” she asked, arms wide. She looked around at the creepy twins. “I think I’ve done an impeccable job, if I do say so myself.”

Wulf’s eyes warmed to a comforting chocolate brown as his hand went to the dried blood on her temple. He seemed worried, but she had no time for men in her life. Trent Winehouse had taught her to put work first. It was just a shame that she fucked Officer Dylan Wulf before she recalled who she was and how all men are the same—varying levels of the same “no good.”

“Not too fast.” Mary Jane sidestepped his gentle touch. She did her best not to look into his seemingly sincere gaze. Coupled with that accent, it reminded her of submerging into the ocean on a sunny day. This wasn’t the time for a tropical vacation, and that’s all Wulf meant to her. He was just a sexy momentary reprieve from life. “Wulf, I hope you haven’t forgotten how we ended off hours ago. The sex from last night saved your life, by the way. You’re still on my shit-list.”

He didn’t budge. So maybe she couldn’t hate Wulf for the stunt he pulled this morning—he hadn’t screwed her over like Trent. She didn’t know Wulf nearly as long, and she had no intention of repeating history. Mary Jane rubbed a hand along her kinky, tangled tresses. She had to wonder how long she’d felt so alone in the world before allowing her heart to numb its way back to normal. Now, she shoved those thoughts away for a more pertinent situation. “Wulf, I have a mission to concentrate on.”

“A mission?” His eyes narrowed. “Do you know it’s luck and Glenn that got us here? You need to be grateful that they didn’t take you to Beasley’s.” He stopped arguing. She didn’t appear to be listening. “What are you thinking, Mary Jane?”

“Look, you and Glenn went out of your way. Thanks. But my name isn’t Mary Jane.” She turned away from him, bent down to Wyatt, and checked his pulse. Dead. She walked to Cody. This entire scenario seemed a little too surreal for her, so she checked his gnarled, twisted neck. Dead.

“What’s your aim, MJ?”

She stood up and stepped before the dominating man, bypassed all those muscles that held her close and safe last night. Her eyes locked onto his. “My mission is to apprehend the Asia prototype. I won’t cease until I’ve completed it.”

“Mary—”

“Not Mary Jane!”

“Hey, guys.” Glenn pulled the wash cloth from his face. “Can we argue about this somewhere…there ain’t dead bodies?”

She watched as he stopped before the doorframe, afraid of Cody’s body leaning against the wall, less than a foot away. Smiling, she went to Glenn, took his hands, and told him to close his eyes. She walked him out of the front door with Wulf in tow.

“Thanks.” Glenn gave a wan grin as she let him go. They hustled down the steps.

Mary Jane stepped toward the Grand National. Whistling, she sauntered around the muscle car. “Wow, is this yours, Glenn?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, cracking a genuine grin.

“Nice!” She clapped her hands together, heart warmed at how Glenn set aside his nerves to help save her. “Okay. You guys, get out of here. I’m heading to The Petting Zoo.”

“The place you used to strip?” The setting sun made Glenn’s red cheeks more obvious.

“I did not strip there.” Mary Jane felt Wulf staring at her, but she addressed Glenn. “Tell me all that you know about Beasley and the club. I’m going to go kill Beasley and apprehend the Asia prototype.”

“No, you won’t. Not by yourself.” Glenn shook his head. “It’ll be dark soon. Do you know how many men Beasley has? How many guys visit the strip club? That they’d do anything for him?”

“That’s what you’re going to tell me.”

“All right, Mary Jane,” Wulf growled. “Enough with the story. The two of us are headed to L.A!” he bellowed, standing in her line of vision. As thick and tall as his frame was, he stole the blaring sun from her gaze.

Mary Jane held her chin high. “I am going to The Petting Zoo.”

Glenn added, “You would have better luck sneaking into his house, waiting for him to come home.”

Her brows crinkled at Glenn’s advice. “How do you know this?”

Glenn sighed, “Beasley ruins women. Once a female works for Beasley, it’s usually the end of her. She starts at the mansion, if she’s pretty enough. Beasley flaunts her around for a while, getting all the men hot and bothered. It’s his way of advertising for his club. She eventually has her reign at The Petting Zoo as the night’s star attraction for a while. When they’ve grown tired of her, or he has new girls, she disappears or becomes a prostitute.”

“How do you know this?” Wulf asked.

“I’ve lived in the area my entire life. My family has owned the motel where lots of the prostitutes do business,” he said hesitantly. “I keep my eyes open.”

“Keep going,” Mary Jane interjected. “Can you tell me more about the women?” she asked, having remembered her wish to return and save them as well.

“They’re crazy. And these girls are loyal to Beasley. Ridiculously loyal. Jake drops them off at the motel—”

“Jake?” Mary Jane asked. She held in her newfound hatred of him.

“Yes, the creepy buff guy.” Glenn squirmed in disgust. “Jake drops the girls off in the neighboring towns—the ones who haven’t disappeared yet. They like the rooms at the motel because we keep ’em clean.”

“Tell me more about Beasley,” she redirected.

“Okay, to take out a man like Beasley, it would be best that you wait until he finished checking on The Petting Zoo and goes home drunk. Most of his men stay at the club to keep the girls in line.”

“All right, that’s what I’ll do.” Mary Jane nodded.

“Glenn, no more humoring her,” Wulf barked.

Mary Jane got ready to move, but Wulf’s hands went to her slim waist. Her legs dangled as he pulled her up to his level. “There is no such thing as an Asia prototype, MJ. You aren’t a secret agent. And you’re listening to Glenn, who you’ve only known for twenty-four hours. I was literally waiting for you to question him during half of his story, you did not.”

“I don’t report to you, Wulf. And I don’t know you either.” She pressed at his chest trying to get him to let her go.

“Well, I’m learning about you, Mary Jane. And I plan to stick around until I do.”

Her arms squirmed around, and she tried to grab his thick neck, but he held her just out of reach. “Put me down!”

“It’s not safe. You’re severely concussed. You were in two car accidents yesterday! And then you go and get tossed around by those twins in their truck. You’re delusional.”

“I can prove it,” she stressed.

When her eyes began to plead with him, Wulf growled. “How?”

“I have a contact. A phone number to call during shit-storms like this.”

Wulf slowly lowered her.

Mary Jane’s hands dug into her tight jeans pocket. There was nothing there. “Dammit, I left the paper at the motel. Remember, Glenn? When I came inside this morning, needing to use the phone?”

“I remember,” Glenn mumbled as Wulf’s smoldering glower intimidated him.

“Mary Jane,” Wulf began, “that’s illogical for you to have something signifying that you’re working a case while undercover.”

“Dammit, Wulf. My name is Anya Randolph! Why can’t you believe me?”

Her voice quivered as she made her appeal, and she tried with all of her might to believe it too. Mary Jane took a deep breath, no longer wanting to accept that she couldn’t trust herself as she once did when Jake saved her from Beasley. “You come out here to risk yourself to save me, but you refuse to consider what I have to say?”

“Gracie, just stop it!” Wulf’s voice boomed so loud she jumped. Everyone was stunned silent for a moment. Even the big officer hung his head low, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck.

“Wulf, who’s Gracie?” Mary Jane’s light brown orbs darkened as she studied his shuttered expression. She knew the look…she’d seen it in her own reflection. “Wulf, please, who is Gracie?”

Wulf’s chest puffed in and out as he breathed. “It doesn’t matter.”

Mary Jane ignored the stinging in her eyes. “I told you everything I know about myself last night.”

“She’s nobody, MJ.”

She wanted to know his story, but she could be just as stubborn. She wouldn’t beg. It was bipolar as hell, but the secret agent was submerged in a dysfunctional-ass world. “Whatever, asshole. I’ve been real with you but you can’t be real with me. Glenn, take us back to the motel so I can get my note. His sorry ass can fall off the edge of the earth for all I care.”

“My sorry ass?” Wulf pointed a stiff finger to his chest.

Without a word, she opened the front passenger door and slid into the seat.

“All I do is try to keep her safe, and this is the thanks I get.”

Mary Jane heard Wulf grumble through the open window and stiffened in her seat.

Glenn quickly came to her defense. “Well, you could try placing yourself in Anya’s shoes—”

“Glenn, her name is not Anya.It’s Mary Jane.”

Mary Jane laid her head back against the headrest as she chewed on her lip.

“Does it hurt to give MJ the benefit of the doubt? All you have to do is wait ’til she calls the number,” Glenn tried.

She continued chewing on her lip till she tasted blood. Why had she slept with the infuriating Dylan Wulf?