I’m waiting at a stall near our meeting point. Eve is late, which is unusual. It worries me. She’s worried me since day one. The more I get to know her, the more protective I feel of her. The more anxious I am every time she walks into her house while I watch, unobserved. I follow her home after each of our meetings. We’ve been at this for two months now. I don’t like the idea of her walking alone. The moment she enters her house and closes the door, she shuts me out. And I can’t stop thinking about what Armen would do if he found out, sister or not.

I check my watch for the hundredth time when I catch a glimpse of her. The moment she turns the corner, I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t realize how tense I’d grown while waiting. She sees me and gives me a wide smile, and something twists in my gut. That’s guilt. That’s knowing I’m going to take whatever she’s got on her brother and use it to capture both him and Malik. To kill one and put the other away—and that’s the best-case scenario.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says when she reaches me.

“I was worried.” With my hand at her lower back, I guide her between two stalls so we’re draped by carpets on one side, and silks on the other. Sunlight is filtered red through the fine cloth and she looks even softer, even prettier for it.

I memorize her eyes, layers of caramel, the shade unusual, entrancing. She’s watching me, too, studying me. And my conscience tugs at me. She’s not even twenty. Barely a woman if I look at her face, at the trust there. The innocence. I should have sent her away the first day she showed up at headquarters. She’s too young, too inexperienced, and we’re taking advantage of that. I’m taking advantage. And here we are and all I can think about is her face, her eyes, the way they look at me. Her lips. How they would feel against mine. How they would taste.

She blinks, lowering her lashes to the bag she’s holding. Fumbling inside it. When she looks up, her face is burning red. It’s like she’s just read my mind and maybe the thoughts inside hers weren’t too far off.

I clear my throat. “What’s that?”

She’s drawing out an envelope along with the cell phone.

The moment I ask the question, her expression changes. Becomes serious. Almost afraid. “An arms sale happening soon. In two days if I’m reading it right. This is a list of the men who will be there. Malik is on that list.”

I take it, open the envelope. Pull out the sheet of paper. It’s a list of names and I recognize about half the attendees. I look up at her. “How did you get this?” This is gold.

“It was lying on the floor of Armen’s study.”

My gaze snaps up to hers. “Lying on the floor? Just like that?”

She nods. “He was in a rush. He must have dropped it.”

“And he won’t know you took it?”

She studies me. “He told me he’d be gone for four days.”

I understand. The sale will take place within those days and she’s thinking it’ll be done. That this will be over and that it won’t matter. Because we’ll have killed Malik and freed her brother of him.

“Eve, things can change.” I tuck the sheet back into the envelope and hand it to her. “You have to take it back, leave it where you found it. If this sale doesn’t happen and he realizes this list is missing, he’ll ask questions.”

She doesn’t take the envelope. She’s shaking her head and I see her anxiety. Realize it’s been wearing on her all this time. “It can’t change. I can’t do this much longer,” she says, and her eyes are suddenly flooded with tears. “It’s too much.”

I touch her arms, hold them, and when a tear slides down her face, I draw her to me. It’s the first time I’ve done it. Held her like this. And it feels good. She feels good. Like she belongs right here, in my arms. Her body is trembling as she cries and I know it’s stress. How had I not thought about this? How did I not realize how much stress she’d be under doing this on her own? All while living under the same roof as the enemy?

“It’s going to be all right, Eve. It will be over soon.” It’s a promise I’m not sure I can keep. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

She melts into me, molding her body to mine. I don’t know if she’s aware of the tiny movement, but I’m so aware of her, of how she’s curled into me. Her breath feels warm against my neck and she feels so small. So vulnerable.

Shouting has me whirl around, and I tuck her behind me as I reach for my weapon. It’s hidden beneath my jacket, but my hand easily closes around the pistol, keeping one hand on her as the sound of men running sends women and children screaming as they scramble out of the way. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but before I have time to draw my weapon, the sound of bullets flying has me ducking for cover, has me taking Eve with me. I hear her scream and push her to the ground, covering her with my own body as men run past, a dozen of them in fatigues, faces covered.

“Stay down!” I’m about to get up, to chase them, but she’s got my arm and makes a strange sound.

I turn to her, my heart struggling to regain its rhythm after that sound.

“Eve!” There’s blood. A lot of it.

I drop my weapon and take her arm, touch the source of the bleeding.

“Zach?”

In the background, I realize the sounds of running have receded. The men are gone. I don’t know who they were or what they wanted, but one of their bullets grazed Eve’s arm and this is too close for my comfort.

I meet her frightened eyes. “It hurts,” she says through tears.

Ripping a strip from my shirt, I tie it over the wound and lift her in my arms as I stand. I already hear the sirens of police and ambulances, but I’m spiriting her away from the market, away from the stalls. Away from everything.

I don’t stop until we’re at headquarters. Until the doctor is cleaning the wound, bandaging it. I just stand there, back against the wall, arms folded over my chest. Eyes locked on her, knowing she got lucky. If I hadn’t pushed her to the ground when I did, where would that bullet have struck? How much worse could it have been?

She looks so small sitting there. Small and scared. Even as she’s trying to smile I see the effort it’s taking her not to cry.

This was wrong. What if her brother’s known all along? What if that whole thing had been set up just to do what they did? Scare her? Or maybe worse? How in hell could I let this girl get involved in something so dangerous? Christ, I know better.

“You’ll have a scar, but it’s a flesh wound. You’ll be fine in no time,” the doctor says.

I watch Eve slide off the table and stand. I don’t miss the wobbling of her knees.

“Thank you,” I say. I open the door and wait. Eve is watching me.

She nods, thanks the doctor and walks ahead of me. She stops once we’re alone in the hallway.

“Zach? Are you okay?”

I laugh, but it’s not a laugh at all. “You just got shot and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“It’s a flesh wound. You heard the doctor. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“I put you in the wrong place. I should have protected you better.”

She touches my hand and the contact of her fingers on my flesh sparks a charge of pure electricity. “It was an accident,” she says finally.

I drag my eyes from our hands to her face. I shake my head. “You’re finished today. No more of this. You need to forget this. It’s too dangerous.”

“What?”

I take her arm and turn her to walk down the corridor. “You’ll stay here until this is over. I don’t want you going home until we have your brother and Malik.”

“Stay here?”

I nod. “Then we’ll get you out of here. Out of Beirut. Somewhere safe.”

“I don’t want that.” She stops, pulls away. “That’s not the agreement.”

It takes me a moment to swallow back my anger, which is at myself, not her. I don’t want to frighten her any more than she already is. “Eve, what happened today, what if it wasn’t an accident?”

“What?” She shakes her head. “No. This had nothing to do with me. With Armen.”

“Until I’m sure, you’re not going back to that house. No way.”

“He’s not—”

I take her uninjured arm, my grip tighter than it needs to be when I shake her once. “Do you realize what could have happened today? Do you have any idea what would have happened if that bullet had struck a few inches to the left? Do you?”

“Zach—”

I’m so angry with myself, I can’t think straight. How was I so stupid? How in hell did I put an innocent in harm’s way?

“I care about you, Eve. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”