“On it.Where are you?”
“Outside Mia’s apartment.”Zeke forced himself to think like an agent, not like a man whose informant was being tortured because of him.“If Tina talked, if she told them about the music box, they’ll move on Mia tonight.”
“I’m sending units to your location.ETA ten minutes.”
“I’m going up.I’m not leaving her alone.”
He took the stairs to Mia’s apartment two at a time, his weapon drawn, every sense on high alert.The hallway was clear.Her door was locked, undisturbed.He knocked, three sharp raps.
“Mia, it’s me.”
She opened the door, her hair damp from a shower, dressed in soft clothes that made her look impossibly young and vulnerable.The smile on her face when she saw him nearly broke him.
“Hey,” she said.“I was just thinking about ordering pizza.Want to?—”
She stopped, reading his expression with the cop instincts she’d never fully lost.“What’s wrong?”
He stepped inside, securing the locks behind him, checking the windows with quick efficiency.“We need to talk.”
“Those are four words no woman wants to hear.”She crossed her arms, but her voice was steady.“What happened?”
And there it was.The moment he’d been dreading.The moment where he had to decide whether to keep lying or finally tell her the truth.
Outside, he heard the distant wail of sirens.Blaze’s units, coming fast.Time was up.The case was coming to a head whether he was ready or not.
He looked at Mia—brave, beautiful Mia, who’d built a life here, who’d taken him back despite every reason not to, who trusted him even when he didn’t deserve it.
“Remember when I said I’d tell you everything when it was safe?”He holstered his weapon and moved to her, needing to be close, needing to see her face.“I’m out of time.And you need to know what you’re in the middle of.”
The sirens grew louder, and he saw her eyes widen as she understood.This wasn’t just about them.This was about the case.The operation.Everything he’d been keeping from her.
“Zeke, what did you do?”
“What I had to,” he said.“To keep you safe.But now I need you to listen, and I need you to trust me one more time.”
He started talking.
ChapterSeven
“Start talking.”Mia’s voice was deadly calm, but Zeke could see the storm brewing in her dark eyes.“Right now.”
He took a breath, knowing this moment would define everything between them.“The woman who came into your shop last week—the one who sold you the music box—her name was Tina Wolfe.She was my informant.”
Mia went very still.“Your informant.”
“She was the old lady for Wild Bill Jones, president of the Vaqueros.She wanted out of that life badly enough to steal evidence from him—a formula for a new amphetamine.It was hidden in that music box.”He watched her face, saw her processing, putting pieces together.“I told her to bring it to you.Someone I could trust to keep it safe.”
“You used me.”The words were flat.“You used my shop as a drop point without telling me.”
“I was trying to protect you?—”
“By keeping me in the dark?”Her laugh was bitter.“How well did that work, Zeke?My shop got destroyed.I’ve had bikers threatening me.I’ve been looking over my shoulder for a week not knowing why any of this was happening.You call that protection?”
“Mia—”
“And Blaze knew.”Her eyes flashed.“Your partner Wyatt knew.Everyone knew except me.The person actually in danger.”
The sirens were directly outside now.Zeke moved to the window, checking the parking lot.Three sheriff’s vehicles, officers deploying with the efficiency of a well-trained unit.Blaze emerged from the lead vehicle, already scanning the building.
