Page 59 of Targeted By Desire

No. I think about what he’s capable of doing to you. She stepped closer. You’ve told me the stories. I’ve seen some of the scars. I just…I don’t want him to hurt you again.

“I wish I could promise you he won’t. But, so long as he doesn’t find out, we don’t have to worry about it.”

“Uh, guys,” Miles said. His eyes were on the television that was playing the news.

On the screen was B-roll footage of an alleyway, the entrance marked up with yellow tape and blue lights bouncing off the brick walls. An anchorwoman stood in front of it, speaking into her mic. “Authorities report four members of the infamous Crimson Vultures were found dead here in this alley. All of them suffered gunshot wounds to the back of the head. Police have no suspects yet, but have reason to believe this might’ve been a retaliation attack from another rival gang.”

“Shit,” I muttered.

You didn’t clean up? Maria signed, her face falling in exasperation.

“I didn’t have time. Blood was pouring from the back of her head.”

And you didn’t think to go back after you dropped her off at the hospital?

“They’re criminals,” I said with a shrug. “The police aren’t going to look that hard into their deaths.”

Until they question her and realize a fed was involved in this. Sighing, she stepped away from us and ran her hands through her hair. Her feet started moving without permission, carrying her back and forth across the floor.

Miles rose from his seat. He walked up to her and ceased her pacing with a simple touch of his hand on her shoulder. “Relax,” he whispered as he pulled her close. “We’ll figure this out.”

She shrank in his embrace, allowing all of her walls to crumble. Her breathing steadied, and some of the tension fogging up the room lifted. For a moment, there was hope all would be well again.

Then both of our pagers went off, mine on my hip and hers on the table, their vibrations echoing through the room like alarm bells.

We didn’t need to look to know what that meant.

Ares wanted to see us.

THE AGENT

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the hospital another day?” My mother asked, watching as I tugged a shirt over my head. She was still wearing her evening gown from the night before. My sister’s call had taken her away from a banquet hosted by the American Bar Association. I didn’t expect for her to leave so abruptly - or unapologetically. She’s been flouncing around in her gown all night, annoying the nurses and asking the police a million questions about their plans to find my attackers. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her in mama bear mode. I wasn’t sure whether to cherish the moment or be weary of it.

“Yes,” I replied. “You heard the doctors: my CT scan was clear and the pain has subsided. There’s no reason for them to keep me.”

“But what if they missed something on the scan?”

“Mom, I’m sure the medical professionals know how to analyze a CT scan. If something was wrong, they wouldn’t have be discharging me.”

She pursed her lips, another question hot on her tongue.

“I’m fine,” I insisted as I shrugged on a jacket. I grabbed the discharge papers, and the flowers, off the nightstand and walked past her before she could say another word.

“Do you want to stay over at my place tonight?” Isabelle asked as she followed me into the hall. “We could banish Owen to the game room and take over the living room. We’ll get in our pajamas, order pizza, drink some wine and watch chick flicks. It’ll be like old times.”

“Thanks, Izzie, but I wanna lay in my own bed tonight. That hospital cot wrecked my back.”

“Okay, then we can just do a sleepover at your house!”

“Iz, I’m okay, really.”

“The doctor said someone had to stay with you for the next twenty four hours. God forbid I disobey his orders and something happens to you.” Her fingers curled around my free hand. “I can’t afford to lose my big sister right now.”

I smiled at our intertwined hands. Leave it to Isabelle to brighten my mood after such a shitty night. I pulled her close and threw my arm over her shoulders, silently thanking her for the reassurance.

We walked outside and through the parking lot to her car. I raised a brow as my mother climbed into the backseat. “Why are you riding with us?” I asked. “Didn’t you drive here?”

“Is it a crime to make sure my baby girl is alright?” My mother countered, matching my expression. “Geez, am I that bad of a mother that my concern worries you?”