Whatever It Takes

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Daniels ignored him.

  Nate tensed, calculating his best chance to surprise the guy behind him and get free long enough to reach Daniels before the three hired men opened fire. Clearly, he didn’t stand a chance of coming out on top in this confrontation, but he’d be damned if he’d sit here within reach of Daniels and not do everything possible to choke the life out of him.

  Suddenly the door swung open, and a blast of cold air struck Nate in the face. As one, the armed men turned. The door creaked on rusty hinges, but only darkness and the rain-­soaked streets were visible through the opening.

  “What the hell?” Daniels reached inside his suit jacket, drew a gun, and inched toward the open door.

  A shadowy blur shot across the threshold, leaped effortlessly through the air in front of Daniels, and delivered perfectly timed kicks with a pair of thick-­soled army boots. The first swept the gun from his hand and likely broke his wrist. The second slammed into his chin and snapped his head back with a sickening crack. He spun around and dropped, out cold before he hit the floor.

  The kid—­the one Nate had dismissed as young and inexperienced—­landed squarely on his feet, facing Daniels’s hit squad, and an eight-­inch dagger appeared in his hand. Nate’s gaze locked on the kid’s for a second. Dark brown eyes, flecked with gold, triggered a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t until the hat landed on his lap and all that long black hair fell down around her shoulders that Nate realized who’d just saved his ass.

  “Alex Morgan . . .” He whispered the name as she advanced on the three bodyguards.

  What the hell was she doing here? The last time he’d seen Alex, she’d just wrecked his car, sliding it sideways into a building, taking out the man who had a gun pointed at Nate’s head in the process. She’d probably saved his life that day, but the damn fool woman had wrecked his ’69 Mustang. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, and he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the events of that day.

  Shock cost Nate a ­couple of seconds, but the man behind him was apparently just as surprised. His grip had loosened as his boss bit the dust—­had become practically nonexistent when Alex morphed into a woman in front of their eyes. Nate easily jerked free, whipped around, and decked the guy.

  He swung to help Alex and pulled up short. Two of the men were already down. One pressed a hand to his stomach while blood seeped through his fingers. The other was trying to hold together the edges of a vicious-­looking slash that extended the length of one thigh. Nate kicked their guns away as he passed by.

  The third man was on his feet, backing away, hands raised in supplication. Alex stalked him, the bloody dagger held alongside her leg. Nate’s friend and ex-­partner, Ty, had warned him that she was lethal, unpredictable, and apt to respond with violent intent at the first sign of perceived danger, but Nate hadn’t really bought his story. Now that he’d seen it firsthand—­it was still unbelievable . . . if not for the blood everywhere.

  Alex’s entire attention appeared to be focused on the man desperately scrambling away from her. Fearless and very much in control of the situation, she was an intimidating opponent. Nate had no doubt that the man in front of her, probably seriously reconsidering his job choices at the moment, would be dead shortly if someone didn’t intervene—­carefully.

  “Alex. Alex?” If she heard him, she gave no indication. He caught up to her and gripped the wrist that controlled the dagger, just in case she couldn’t tell the good guys from the bad guys in whatever alternate reality she currently occupied.

  She frowned and tried to twist free. Confusion filled her eyes, followed swiftly by realization and dismay. He could read the effort it took for her to come back from wherever she’d been. She regarded him silently for a few seconds before she gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

  Nate took the knife from her hand. “That a’ girl. Stay with me now.”

  He pointed the blade at the man who was backed against the wall. “Don’t move.” He was fairly sure the guy was convinced that staying put was his best option. Circling back, Nate retrieved his gun, grabbed his cell phone, and called for backup.

  Still carrying the bloody dagger, he scrutinized the tables until he found a soiled napkin. He scraped both sides of the blade on the crumpled paper and held out the weapon, hilt first, to Alex. “Tuck that away somewhere.” Had it been anyone else but her, he’d never have handed the weapon back. In this instance, though, he couldn’t think of anyone more capable of covering his back should the need arise.

  She snatched the sleek steel dagger by its leather-­wrapped hilt and deftly inserted it in a scabbard on her hip, hidden by the large coat she wore.

  He snagged Alex’s hat from the floor and was just passing it to her when he heard the unmistakable sound of a break-­open shotgun’s action. A glance over his shoulder revealed the source of the trouble. Grabbing her wrist, he jerked her through the open door and ran just as Goliath let go with both barrels.

  Nate swore as he realized his error in judgment. He’d been so surprised by Alex’s sudden transformation from gangly kid to someone he knew, he’d put the familiar interaction between the bartender and one of Daniels’s thugs out of his mind. Goliath obviously hadn’t been packing a weapon—­maybe he even had to slip to the back room for his shotgun—­or he’d have opened fire much sooner with a very different outcome. It could easily have been the last mistake Nate ever made.

  They’d gotten out without a scratch, but Nate had a bad feeling about his partners. He sprinted down the block. Alex ran into the back of him when he stopped beside the open driver’s window of Burke’s car.

  His fellow officers were both slumped in the front seat, one round each to the head, splattered blood and brain matter everywhere. Nate had to fight to keep from losing his lunch. Neither of them had even drawn a weapon—­surprised and gunned down where they sat.

  It had to have been Daniels. Anything else was too much of a damn fluke. Anger boiled up within him and he no longer regretted the hasty yet thorough job Alex had done on Daniels’s cronies in the bar. In fact, the urge to go back and finish it for her was looking more attractive by the minute.

  “It’s not healthy to hang around out here.” Alex, apparently handling the death scene better than he was, tugged on his arm.

  She was right. Cops and ambulances would arrive in due time, but he had to get back inside and do his job. The question was . . . what to do with Alex?

  What he wouldn’t give to talk to Joe Reynolds, Alex’s boss, before he turned the homicide detectives loose on her. Nate knew just enough of Alex’s history to worry about her reaction if someone pushed her too hard. According to Ty, her life as a child and young girl had been hell. Whatever her reason for showing up here tonight—­and he didn’t believe for a minute it was coincidence—­she’d jumped in to help him, saving several lives in the process. So, hell yes . . . he owed her one—­maybe more, if he was honest with himself. That her sudden appearance reawakened feelings he thought he’d buried deep had nothing to do with it. The only thing he cared about was her ability to handle an interrogation. His colleagues, investigating the murders of two of their own, would pick up on every inconsistency in her answers. She’d be lucky if they didn’t throw her ass in jail.

  His protective side urged him to keep her out of it if he could, but, eventually, he’d have to produce her, and sooner would look less guilty than later.

  Nate turned away from the open window and, with a hand on her elbow, drew her along with him toward the bar. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a concealed permit for that blade.”

  “Of course I do. From the State of Montana, though.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m not legal in Oregon.”

  “That’s good enough. Let me handle that issue. You just tell them what happened. Got it?”

  She nodded, going pale, obviously completely out of her comfort zone.

&nbs
p; He slid his arm around her waist. “It’ll be okay. I promise. You’ll be a hero.” He couldn’t stop himself from tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here, Alex?”

  She shrugged and her gaze focused on him. “Looking for you.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. “Hold that thought.” Nate drew his gun and pushed her back against the wall beside the door of the bar. “Stay here until I come back.” Without waiting for her answer, he jerked the door open and moved swiftly through.

  There was no sign of Goliath or his shotgun behind the counter, or anywhere else in the bar, but Nate wasn’t taking any chances this time. He cleared the main room according to procedure before he stopped in the center and lowered his gun.

  The hooker peeked over top the bar, recognition flooding her taut face. She straightened and pointed toward the back room. “They left.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Three or four minutes maybe. That creep who was doing all the talking, two of the big guys, and the bartender.” She lowered her voice. “I think he was one of them.”

  Nate’s gaze swept the bar room. The two knife victims lay unmoving. Apparently, the drunk on his stool hadn’t been disturbed by anything going on around him. Nate swung back to the woman. “I think you’re right. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Savannah.”

  “You stay right here, Savannah.” He quickly checked the bathrooms, the back room, and the alley before returning to the bar, where Savannah was pouring herself a drink and offered him one. He raised his hand to stop her from pouring into the glass she’d set up for him.

  The sirens were closer now. Soon the place would be crawling with cops. Nate strode to the door, stepped outside, and drew Alex in with him. Blue and red lights reflected off the interior walls as cruisers raced down the block.

  Alex looked straight ahead, never glancing to the right where the two wounded men lay. She pinched his arm in a death grip, and when he glanced at her face, she seemed desperate to hide the fear that widened her gold-­flecked eyes. What had her so scared? Surely it wasn’t death. If the story he’d heard was true, death had ceased to bother her a long time ago. Cops? Being locked away? That made sense, considering her history. It wouldn’t happen on his watch though.

  Hell, he barely knew Alex. What was it about her that made him want to protect her? She’d laugh in his face if he suggested she couldn’t take care of herself. This crazy impulse was going to get him in trouble if he didn’t rein it in.

  He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his side in far too familiar an embrace, but he didn’t care. She needed to know he was watching out for her. She didn’t seem to mind, leaning into him as though they held each other like this all the time.

  “Savannah, this is Alex.”

  The hooker reached for her hand. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did, sugar.”

  A tiny smile showcased one of Alex’s dimples.

  “She’s a little nervous. She doesn’t care much for cops.” Nate figured if anyone would understand, Savannah would. Hookers had no reason to like cops either.

  “Well, I hear that, honey. Except for present company, there’s not much good about them.” She turned her concerned gaze on Alex. “Don’t you worry. I’m here for you if you need me.”

  Cars screeched to a halt directly out front and sirens wound down to nothing just as six guys dressed in SWAT gear poured through the door.

  Nate held up his badge. “They went out the back about seven or eight minutes ago. Those two are wounded.” He indicated the fallen men.

  One of the officers spoke into his radio and the next instant two EMTs with medical bags and a stretcher plowed through the door and went to work. The SWAT team cleared the back of the building and prepared to search the alley.

  The next person through the door was the man Nate had been waiting for. A full head of silver hair and a well-­cut pin-­striped suit made him easy to spot at any crime scene. His boss’s gaze swept the room, and when it came to rest on him, a scowl darkened his features.

  Alex tensed beside him, and Nate squeezed her arm reassuringly. Captain Gene Morris had a loud bark, but he was mostly harmless.

  “What the hell happened here, Sanders? This was supposed to be a simple drug deal. Now I’ve got two dead cops and nobody to hold responsible. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re standing here with two beautiful young women. Mind telling me how you get so close to the shit without getting any on you?” The man stared at Nate, ignoring Alex and the hooker, which was fine with him.

  He’d just opened his mouth to tell Cap to calm down when Alex started to laugh. To be fair, she tried to stop herself, almost choking, covering her mouth, but finally couldn’t contain the mirth that bubbled free.

  Cap cocked one eyebrow and glared while she tried to control herself.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry . . . it’s just . . . that sounded like something I would have said . . . and you’ve certainly got Nate pegged.”

  Nate huffed and turned to stare at her bemusedly. He’d been worried about her holding up under questioning, yet she’d tossed him under the bus in a heartbeat.

  “Young lady, do you have a name?” Damned if Cap wasn’t trying to hide a smile.

  “Alex Morgan.” She offered her hand and they shook.

  Cap didn’t let go, tugging her away from Nate’s side instead. “Let’s talk, Ms. Morgan.”

  Nate groaned. This couldn’t be good.

  They took a seat at one of the tables near the back. While watching them from the corner of his eye, Nate took Savannah’s statement, then woke the drunk at the end of the bar and verified that he hadn’t seen a thing, barely jumping out of the way in time to avoid being thrown up on. Man, he couldn’t wait for this night to be over.

  Alex had gone from serious dialogue with Cap, to smiling through tear-­filled eyes, to relaxed conversation with both of them laughing like old friends. Why did that bother Nate so badly? Maybe it was because he wanted to know her better, but all he got from her were smart-­ass remarks. She never let her guard down with him—­never let him inside her defenses. That was going to change. He was going to earn her trust even if it killed him.

  The ambulances had hauled away the wounded. The coroner’s van, as reverently as possible, had removed Burke and Anderson’s bodies. Savannah had called it a night thirty minutes ago. Shortly after that, Nate had poured the drunk into a cab. The forensic team had just finished and they were packing up their gear.

  Nate strode to the table where Cap and Alex still sat, pulled out a chair, and dropped into it. Alex smiled when he raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Cap glanced at him as though he only now remembered Nate was anywhere around. “Quite a charmer you’ve got here, Sanders.” He winked at her, and she smiled as though they shared a secret. “Ms. Morgan tells me she arrived by cab. Can I assume you’ll get her home safely?”

  “Absolutely, Cap. In fact, if she’s agreeable, I’ll drive her myself.”

  “We’re finished here.” Cap got to his feet. “Alex, I’ll write up your statement, and you can stop by the precinct one day this week and sign off.”

  Alex stood and shook his hand. “Thank you, Gene.”

  Gene? What in the hell just happened here? She’d tamed the beast without any trouble at all.

  They all walked out together. The captain turned to him on the sidewalk. “I don’t want to see you in the squad room for a while. Take a few days off.” Without waiting for Nate’s reaction, Cap got in his car, started it, and pulled away. Nate turned the lock on the inside of the door before letting it fall closed behind them and, with a hand on Alex’s back, stepped off the curb and crossed to the other side of the street where he’d left his motorcycle.

  He yanked the helmet from the handlebars and held it out to her. “Put it
on.”

  “You wear it. I’ve got mine.” Alex pushed her Aussie hat on her head.

  Nate snatched the hat and shoved it into her hands. “I’m sure your head is harder than mine, but we’re not having this argument.” He placed the helmet on her head and pushed it down over her ears.

  “Ouch! Was that necessary?”

  “You bet your sweet ass it was.” The first real grin of the night drove away some of his frustration. He swung his leg over the bike, helped her on behind him, and cranked it up. “Hold on.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. The warmth of her body, ­coupled with her slight trembling, started a physical reaction that he wasn’t expecting and reawakened the lust he’d tamped down when she’d left the last time. Oh yeah. In spite of the fact they’d just stepped out of a friggin’ cluster, he could get used to her pressed tightly against him. Not to mention Alex actually doing what he told her. That was a new one.

  It had been nearly six months since she’d appeared, unannounced, and wrecked his prized, fully restored 1969 Mustang Mach I. She’d gone again just as quickly, but he wasn’t through with her on that score yet. He’d promised dire consequences if she so much as scratched his car, and he still wasn’t completely convinced she hadn’t done it on purpose. Strangely, when he thought of her, which he’d done quite a bit for the first ­couple of months, it wasn’t associated with his car at all.

  She’d dropped into his life, along with his ex-­partner, Ty Whitlock; Joe Reynolds; and several other members of Joe’s team of ex-­military fighters, to rescue Ty’s girlfriend and stop a Russian Mafia general. All in a day’s work for them.

  That Alex was different from any girl he’d ever met was obvious from the first time he’d laid eyes on her. She had a smart mouth, was way too cocky, and was about as hot as they come. Slender with a well-­toned body and curves in all the right places, she was petite, at least compared to him. Long, black, wavy hair fell below her shoulders, framing her dark-­skinned exotic beauty. She was also young, barely twenty, and had been severely damaged by a deranged lunatic using mind-­control drugs, if the story Ty told him was true. So, of course, Nate had fallen for her. Why was anyone’s guess, but when she’d left after their job was finished, he hadn’t expected to see her again.