Page 23 of Too Lethal to Love
“Don’t even think about it,” Kane growled at her from the corner of his mouth as he slowly positioned himself between Hoodie One and Hoodie Two. “Listen, guys. I’m not going to do anything stupid, but if you hurt my girl, all bets are off.”
His girl.
Pain slashed through her arm as memories of a cold, dark alley overlaid with the present.
No.
Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as she pulled the weapon from her bag. Kane wouldn’t be the next man to die defending her.
Before she could raise her gun, Hoodie One, by the counter, shook as if waking up from a trance. Kane swung hisleg in a wide, graceful arc. The steel slammed into the teen’s midsection and sent him sprawling in her direction. Beth jumped back as he fell face-first into the whiskey display. The force shot her onto her ass as boxes and bottles crashed to the tile floor. Pain lanced up her spine. Fighting for breath, she sprang to her knees and trained her gun on the fallen guy.
A choked inhale lodged in her throat as she looked up. Kane, looking more commanding, more intense than any action movie hero, stood between the hooded assailants, a weapon pointed at each of them.
He shifted his gaze to her without moving another muscle. “You can put your gun down. I got this. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, air heaving from her lungs in short, painful pants. Broken glass scraped under her feet as she pushed herself from the ground.
He’s not here. I’m safe.
She repeated the affirmation. Her mind flashed back to that dark alley, but she didn’t scream Danny’s name in her head. She screamed Kane’s. The switch rippled surprise through her tortured psyche.
Kane adjusted his stance to face her as she caught a glimpse of his weapon still in its holster. Her gaze ping-ponged between the pistols in each of his hands. In the seconds between her falling and sitting up, he’d disarmed two assailants without even drawing his gun?
How on earth?
The cocky dimpled grin he shot her as sirens approached said he knew exactly what she was thinking.
After the cops finished taking their statements, Beth followed Kane to the liquor store exit, still in awe at how quickly he’dneutralized the situation. He hadn’t even been breathing hard, for Christ’s sake. He’d kicked the bad guys’ asses, his cowboy hat still perched on his head, and held them at gunpoint with their own weapons like it was any other day wine shopping.
But it wasn’t just any other day. It was a day in her company. North Benson’s infamous?—
“You holding up okay?”
She glanced at Kane as she pulled the collar of her coat around her neck. “Yeah, just fine.”
“Bullshit.” He opened the door. “I can feel you shaking.”
She was, but fear wasn’t the only reason she trembled. “Do you really think those were just two local addicts looking to score drug money?” That had been the consensus of every officer who’d streamed from the three squad cars parked in the lot. But the guys in hoodies weren’t just addicts. They were boys with families and friends who would care if they went to jail. Would mourn them if they died of an overdose. They were the embodiment of why the Diablos could not get the Triple X formula.
“I don’t know.” Kane paused in the doorway and scanned the parking lot. “Headquarters is looking into it.”
She followed his gaze and searched the crowd of onlookers behind the police barricade for Chavez’s face. “How does headquarters know about the robbery already?” She hadn’t seen him make a call.
“Superpowers, sugarplum.”
He shifted the wine bottles in his hand the owner had given her, free of charge. Kane had refused a pint of aged whiskey with a tip of his hat. “Just doing my duty, sir,” he’d said in that country twang.
Christ. Duty had never looked so damn sexy. She should be terrified. Instead, exhilaration flowed through her veins like some aftermath aphrodisiac that urged herto convince Kane it was his duty to do her. She twisted a curl around her finger. If only he could be a casual hookup. She’d enjoy that body over and over until the sun rose.
And she’d never see him again.
But he wasn’t some guy she’d never cross paths with. He was Scarlett’s colleague. Chris’s friend. Her protector, and dammit, she liked him.
A lot.
She couldn’t fall, not even if her heart did a little dance when he threatened the hoodie and called her “his girl.” Not even if those powerful kicks and his graceful speed were sexier than an all-male revue.
“Beth.”