Chapter 2

      Sully limped up the sidewalk beside the woman, his hands trembling, his pulse jumping, a cold sweat beading his palms. That semi-automatic gunfire kept ricocheting through his mind in an endless loop, making it hard to distinguish his nightmares from fact.

      But one thing was clear, even to his battle-fogged brain. Something was terribly wrong here. The gang gunning down two unarmed women to establish their territory didn’t make sense. It would bring the police force out in droves, giving them unwanted scrutiny, something they’d never risk. And he’d seen the doubt flitting through the woman’s eyes, that flicker of remembered fear. She was hiding something. Something important. Something to do with that ruthless gang.

      Stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets, he slid her a sideways glance. She didn’t look like the type to consort with gang members. She looked too innocent, too decent with those wide, hazel eyes, that lush and tempting mouth. Her thick hair gleamed in the twilight, streaks of sorrel and mahogany mixed with the chestnut brown. But after her reckless dash into the street—defying bullets to save that kid—he could imagine her doing something foolhardy and ticking them off.

      But who she was, what the gang wanted from her—none of that mattered to him. It couldn’t. He’d already interfered in her life enough. He’d just accompany her to her shelter, make sure she and the kid got inside safely and leave. He refused to get more involved.

      They reached her row house a minute later, and the pregnant teenager rushed up the steps. Sully hung back, taking in the freshly painted black shutters, the pale yellow bricks of the facade. Pumpkins lined the porch. An autumn wreath hung on the door. The place was an anomaly on the rundown street, an oasis of cheerfulness and warmth. But he guessed that was the point of a shelter. The small plaque beneath the wreath read Always Home.

      She paused on the step above him and turned around. “I’m sorry. I never introduced myself. I’m more rattled than I thought. I’m Haley. Haley Barnes.”

      For a moment, he couldn’t answer. Her greenish-brown eyes held him spellbound, the lilt of her voice derailing his thoughts. His heart sped up, the sudden punch of adrenaline catching him off guard.

      But then the door swung open behind her. She turned and hurried up the remaining steps. Stunned at his reaction, he followed more slowly, trying to wrap his head around what had occurred. What the hell was he thinking? Sure, she was pretty. And even though he deserved to be, he wasn’t exactly dead.

      But this woman was beyond off-limits. She came from a different world. And the last thing she needed in her life was a man like him—a washed-up, wounded ex-soldier, an alcoholic plagued with flashbacks, a man so haunted by his failures that he could barely make it through the night, let alone take care of her.

      Shaking himself back to his senses, he stepped over the threshold into the room. The shelter had the same layout as Jason’s row house, but the similarities ended there. This place had gleaming hardwood floors, a banked fire smoldering in the fireplace, the embers glowing red and orange. Oversize armchairs surrounded the fireplace. A basket of pinecones sat on the hearth. Beneath the window was an inviting sofa, piled high with faded quilts. The place even smelled appealing, like cinnamon and pumpkin pie.

      Always Home. She’d created a home, all right, a cozy refuge for the teenage girls. The kind of place he had no right to after that debacle in the desert sand.

      He shifted his gaze, taking in the half-dozen girls clustered by a wooden staircase—all pregnant, all young, their eyes too knowing for their tender age. Like the kids he’d seen in Afghanistan. They’d had those same half-dead, traumatized eyes.

      “We need to leave,” Haley told the girls. “Right away, before that gang comes back. Gather your things and meet me back here. Fast.” Her voice was soft and calm, but authoritative—the voice of a woman used to taking charge. And the girls obeyed without question, racing up the staircase while she pulled out her phone.

      “You have somewhere to go?” he asked, catching her gaze.

      She nodded, but a small crease marred her brow. “There’s another shelter near here. I’m calling them now to see if they have room.”

      Sully crossed his arms and waited while she murmured into the phone. In less time than he’d expected, the girls traipsed back down the stairs. They all traveled light, each carrying a single knapsack slung over their backs.

      A siren broke out in the distance. A second later, another one joined in. Haley pocketed her cell phone and turned to the girls. “All right. Is everyone here?”

      The teenagers murmured assent.

      “Good. I want to get out of here before the police show up.”

      Sully didn’t blame her. The cops would descend in droves. They’d cordon off the street and canvass the neighbors, questioning everyone multiple times. He’d resigned himself to the scrutiny; he could hardly avoid it since his pistol shell casings littered the road. But Haley couldn’t afford the delay. She needed to get those kids to safety before the gang regrouped.

      “We need to stick together,” she continued. “It’s not far, just a few blocks. Walk as quietly and quickly as you can.”

      Sully’s head came up. “Wait a minute. You don’t have a car?”

      Her gaze swung to his. “It’s in the shop. They’re going to meet us by the bridge and take us there.”

      Frowning, he rubbed his bristly jaw. He didn’t like this. They’d be too exposed on foot. They’d been lucky enough to survive the first attack with just one kid in tow. An entire group of pregnant teenagers made them sitting ducks.

      “I’ll go with you.”

      “That’s not necessary.”

      “The hell it isn’t. What if that gang shows up?”

      Her face paled, but she raised her chin. “We’ll deal with it. You’ve done enough. I appreciate your help, a lot. But—”

      “I’m armed, and you’re not. You need somebody to guard your back. Now, let’s get going. We’re wasting time.”