by Aliyah Burke
Caro waited a while then finally said, “Why don’t you leave if you’d prefer not to be out. Do you have a place to go where you feel safe?” She bit her lip and slid her bag to her twin.
“I do. That’s part of what I have to resolve on my own. It’s a small hostel but I blend in there. I’m safer there than I would be with the cops. This crime boss has a long reach and I would just assume to not be in his way if he tries to reach out and touch me.” She stood. “I have to go. See you tomorrow.” She donned her hat and glasses before walking off. Halfway to the door, she wheeled back around. “Thanks for coming.”
Caro gave a slight nod and waved. I should be able to just relax if this only takes until tomorrow. She feels safer away from the cops. Perhaps this one is just incompetent in his job. If that’s the case we can always ask for another to be assigned. Something has her spooked. On her feet she grabbed her cup and the items Jasmine hadn’t disposed of. Caro grabbed Jasmine’s bag and left to hail another cab.
* * * *
This is a shitty day! Declan McBride swore again as he whipped the vehicle around the corner. He slammed his hand on the dash.
“Get out of the way! There’s a reason I have this fucking cherry bar on top.”
People didn’t seem to care and by the time he had made it around the corner he was not any happier. He parked and climbed out, donning his hat. Gazing around, he frowned as he strode toward the store. The message had said she would be waiting for him.
This woman will be the death of me. Because I may very well kill her myself before they get a hold of her.
Jasmine Hoyer. A woman they were supposed to keep safe before the trial. A pain in the ass is more like it. She wouldn’t do as they advised her, running as often as she could from them and the protection they were there to provide.
When his lieutenant had told him to meet her, he’d refused. “Send someone else,” he’d barked. “I’m tired of dealing with her and her spoiled antics. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want our protection. There are plenty of people in this city who would like mine. I’m not wasting my time.”
He snorted. Declan nodded with a smile to a little boy who waved at him. His comments hadn’t gone over at all. “Which explains why I’m here to meet this obnoxious, spoiled…” He shook his head.
Ten steps from the entrance a scream pierced the air, remarkable considering the level of noise in the area. Immediately, he turned in that direction and started shoving through the crowd.
He reached the woman at the same as another officer. Declan froze. Jasmine. Not the short pink spiked hair, tight clothes wearing Jasmine. But it was her. Which meant she was about to try to slip away, yet again.
“You got this?” he asked the young officer.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He began across the street holding out his hand to slow cars so that he could progress. “Jasmine!” He made sure his voice carried over the din.
Her head rose as she looked around, finally focusing in his direction. To his left the sun glinted off something and his gut screamed a warning. He ran directly at her, tackling her to the ground as the first shots rang out. Her bag scattered as they hit.
Pandemonium erupted around them. She lay beneath him, eyes wide.
“Damn it, Jasmine!”
He called it in and scanned the area for the shooter. Every fiber in him wanted to chase this person down but his orders were clear. Keep her safe and alive.
She struggled beneath him so he got to his feet then hauled her up as well. Shit! I have no clue where they went or what they looked like. He scowled at the woman who continued to tug against him.
“Let go of me!”
“Hold still, Jasmine. I’m in no mood.”
She pulled against his hold, but he ignored her, talking to the cops who had arrived.
“I’m not Jasmine. My bag!” She yanked against him trying to get to the spilled items.
“What?” He glared down at her. “What is your problem?”
“I’d just as soon as not lose my things! That’s what,” she snapped.
“McBride!”
Declan looked up to see his lieutenant pushing through. “LT. What are you doing here?”
The man looked at the woman beside him and back to him. “On my way to a meeting when I heard your call.” The man coughed and patted his pockets. “Bring her to my office.” LT waved one meaty hand then walked away.
“Let’s go,” he barked. “You heard LT.”
“He’s not my lieutenant. What if something was stolen from it while you had me pinned on the sidewalk beneath you?” Fury drenched each word that spilled from her mouth.
He crossed his arms and stared down at her before turning his gaze to the surrounding area. “And for your information, you were beneath me because I saved your ungrateful ass from being shot. So… You’re welcome.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m welcome? I’m welcome?” Her voice eclipsed a pitch he wasn’t sure anyone could reach and he winced.
“What’s wrong? Did you have a few more drop phones in there to keep us chasing our tails as we try to protect you? If that’s what you’re worried about being taken I can’t say I’m sorry.”
Her brow converged but he ignored it. She wasn’t about to pull another fast one on him. “I don’t care.”
“You have this all wrong,” she said, tugging against his grip. She gazed behind him, paused, then struggled again.
“Do I?” He faced her fully, getting up in her personal space until the tips of his steel-toed boots rested against the toes of her—interestingly—light blue tennis shoes. “Really? Tell me what I have wrong, Jasmine Hoyer. Do enlighten me. While I see you lost that horrid pink hair and tight clothing, which I am assuming was yet another attempt to sneak away, you’re still you.”
For a moment, she seemed confused then that damn cool arrogance he was used to and expected from her crossed her features. Declan guided her to his car and held the back seat door open. “I’m tired of running after you. Personally, I don’t give a damn if you don’t want us around. I don’t want to be around you either but orders are orders. I’m tired of it all and tired of the chaos that comes from your selfish actions.”
She glared at him, eyes fiery with defiance. Blood resided on her face but if it stung or she was bothered by it, she never let it show. He made a note to get it checked out back at the station.
“This was my fault?” she asked, aghast.
“You’re the one with people trying to kill them.”
“Sure about that?” she snarked.
He rolled his eyes. “Get in.”
“Why? Am I under arrest?”
He ground his teeth and prayed for patience. Yes, he’d love to arrest her. “No, I’m taking you to the station per LT’s request. Get. In.”
“Would a please kill you?”
“Probably,” he grumbled. “Get in…please.” It would be hell to unclench his jaw.
“Better be clean back here.” Reluctance was stamped all over her body as she slid into the seat and crossed her legs.
Declan slammed the door, a bit harder than necessary, he’d admit that. “This woman…”
“McBride!”
He turned and hid the sneer. Can my day get fucking worse? I now have to deal with this prick? Detective Lance Baldwin. Everything about this man just rubbed him wrong. From the way he styled his hair, to the ever-present smirk, which told everyone that Lance believed himself above them, to the custom-made suits he wore. Italian silk. All of it made Declan want to push him into something dirty. Or burn the suit. With the man in it. The detective’s smugness smacked him before the man had actually arrived.
“Yeah, Baldwin?” He opened the driver’s door and put one foot inside.
“Hear you’ve been having trouble keeping an eye on your witness.”
He eyed him carefully. “Nothing better to do than check up on me? I mean, perhaps you should be out doing some detective work and find the perp who decid
ed to open fire down here.”
The man rolled a toothpick he’d put in his mouth. “Heard you were on scene. Couldn’t catch him?”
Declan gave a feral grin. “Not a good day to—”
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The gunshots spurred them both into action. Baldwin hit the ground while Declan dove into his car, hollering, “Get down!”
Glass shattered around him and he swore as Jasmine screamed bloody murder.
“Go. Go. Go!” Baldwin hollered as he rolled and came up running in the other direction. Toward the shots. The same direction Declan would be going if… If not for Jasmine.
He readjusted and got them headed away, gunning the engine. “Are you okay?”
Declan repeated his question three times. All of which got zero response from her. He couldn’t see her. Whipping into a lot, he then threw the car into park and turned around. She lay slumped in the footwell, blood trickling down the side of her face.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
Calling it in, he raced to the nearest hospital, then screeched to a halt and jumped out. Two nurses waited with a gurney. He yanked open the back door and hauled her out. She lay unresponsive as he placed her on the stretcher.
“You can’t park there,” one person said.
“I am not leaving her. Move!”
They wheeled her in and he grabbed a security guard as he passed him. “Park my car to the side and bring me the keys.”
He stood in the operating room as they worked on her and cursed himself. This was crazy. If he was going to be charged with keeping her alive, which it appeared he was going to be, he had to do it in a place where he could control the surroundings. More so than here anyway.
* * * *
Declan gazed up from where he sat, hand on his pistol—cleared from the holster—when the door to her room swung open. The scowl on LT’s face was thunderous. Behind him—his heart sank—came the woman prosecuting the case, a woman in a severe business suit. Jacquelyn Ashcraft. Assistant District Attorney. His ex-wife.
She ran her vibrant green gaze over him and shook her head. “No manners, McBride? You used to stand when a woman walked in the room.”
He scratched his stubble and tapped his sidearm against his leg. When the nurse entered he rose and smirked at the frown Jacquelyn shot him.
“She was lucky,” he said when just the three of them remained in the room with the still sleeping Jasmine. “They’re getting bolder.”
“I can’t win with a dead witness,” Jacquelyn snapped.
He clenched his jaw to keep his comment inside.
“I’m sure death would be an inconvenience to Ms Hoyer as well,” LT said with an eye roll. LT, it appeared, had no problem voicing his opinion.
“Whatever,” she replied. She glared at both of them. “Keep her alive or it’s your asses.” She departed the room with the same cold precise steps with which she’d entered.
Damn woman gave him frostbite. Declan readjusted in his chair.
LT ran a hand over his hair. “Suggestions?”
“Let me put her somewhere.”
“Like?”
“Nope. Somewhere only I know. I’ll leave you a number to call when she’s needed in court. Just give us forty-eight hours’ notice.
LT watched him with dark brown eyes. “You can’t stand her.”
He shrugged. “There are a lot of people I’m not a fan of. Doesn’t mean I won’t protect them with any less passion.”
“You’re a damn good cop, Declan. I’m not implying otherwise. How many times have I encouraged you to take the detective’s exam?”
“Many. And my answer will be the same. I like being on the streets. Walking a beat. I don’t want to be a detective.”
LT harrumphed. “Discussion for another time.” His lieutenant held his gaze. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Nope, but it’s the smartest thing. I can’t imagine it will be fun being in close quarters with her.”
LT smirked. “You never know.”
He snorted. “Not likely.” And yet, he couldn’t deny his body responded to her feistiness with a fervor he wasn’t pleased with. More so just since today. He hadn’t felt it before, but from his first touch on her in the street earlier, his cock had jumped in with his own opinion. There was something different. It didn’t matter—he was in control of his body, not the other way around.
“Give me the number.”
Reaching into the front pocket of his uniform shirt, he withdrew his little notepad. After a few strokes of his pen he ripped the sheet free and handed it over.
“No name?”
“Nope. Just tell whoever answers she’s needed and I’ll be there within forty-eight with her in tow.”
“This is a DC number.”
Declan shrugged and stared at the woman in the bed. Right now she looked lost and small. All of which changes when she’s awake.
“We’ll leave when she wakes.”
LT put a smoke in and sighed. “Be careful.” The man played with his lighter but never once lit the cig dangling from his lower lip.
“Always am.”
Moments later, he and Jasmine had the room to themselves. He settled back and waited. Declan needed to use this time to try to figure out a way to stay ahead of her. They’d butted heads many of times. This was different, though.
The Kazakova crime family was nothing to scoff at. They did what they did and not a single one of the witnesses against the family tended to make it to court, so they were continually freed. Jasmine and one other were their last chance.
Chapter Two
Caro hurt. Flashes bombarded her and she jerked up at the memory of being shot. Pain smacked her and she cried out.
“Want me to call the doc?” The voice—deep and, dare she think it despite the pain, arousing—had her looking to see who’d spoken.
Him? He’s still here with me? Her cop. Declan McBride.
He sat there, long legs stretched out before him, wearing the hell out of his uniform. Cops didn’t normally do anything for her but this one… Something different entirely.
“What are you doing here?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Protecting you.”
“Isn’t that how I got shot?” Okay, so perhaps that was a low blow but she wasn’t about to roll over for him. Then again, that could prove to be fun.
Her mind had figured it out. Jasmine had wanted this cop to latch onto her more than originally stated. She gazed at the table and saw Jasmine’s ID. She had no intention of swinging back by soon and us doing lunch. I’m a fool. I let her dupe me.
Guilt nagged her, though. Jasmine had been alone for so long. She had to help her. Jasmine had said she had a place to hide. This may be stupid of me to continue but I promised I would help her and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“You want the doc?” His tone was angry.
“No.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Go?” She looked down at her body. “Where am I going in a hospital gown?”
“Doc said you could leave when you woke. You’re awake. We can go.”
Not one for bedside manner, I see. She gazed beyond the window. Night had fallen. “Again. Go where?” She turned her attention to him as she waited for his answer.
“Somewhere you’ll be safe.”
Safe. A word she liked. She’d never been shot before and it wasn’t an experience she cared to repeat.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Anger darkened his blue-green eyes. “I would have no problem walking out that door and never laying eyes on you again. I have my orders.”
He and Jasmine must hate one another. She left the bed and stomped over to him. He stared up at her from where he sat, his expression daring her. To do what, she wasn’t sure but she read the challenge in his gaze.
“Then do it.” She dared him.
Declan unfurled from the seat to stand over her. Lord, he’s big. Before, she’
d been a bit too freaked to truly admire the man before her. Now, she took it all in. Took all of him in. Six-five, broad shoulders, narrow waist. Powerful. Short black hair highlighted the chiseled, nearly harsh features. His nose had a bump indicating a previous break. Firm lips, which she—for a second only—wondered what they would be like upon hers.
“I have my orders.” He raked his gaze over her. “It’s just going to be you and me. No more games. No more stealing cars, no more lies. And that includes this, ‘I’m not Jasmine’ thing you spouted.”
Stolen cars? What the hell kind of person was her twin?
“I need to make a call.”
“To who? Your dealer?” Derision drenched his questions.
She just reacted, her hand rushed toward his face. Declan snagged her wrist and jerked her close to him. Heat swirled in his eyes and she lost herself momentarily in their depths.
“I do not do drugs.” Fury rocked through her.
A scoff. “You won’t be where we’re going, that’s for sure. Put some clothes on or did you want to go that way?”
She couldn’t believe how little he thought of her—Jasmine. Me for now. Part of her thought it would be wise to tell him exactly who she was. At least try to get him to understand. The recollection of Jasmine’s face had her swallowing it. She could do this.
Caro backed away and found a bag holding her clothing. She ducked in the bathroom and put her attire on. Staring at her reflection, she chewed on her lip. Think like Jasmine.
Not an easy feat. Especially given what he—Declan ‘hottie’ McBride—kept informing her when he lashed accusations at her—Jasmine’s character.
“I can do this. It shouldn’t take long.”
Hopefully it wouldn’t be longer than her two weeks. She needed to call and cancel her cards. “Damn it. What am I doing?”
She splashed water on her face then dabbed it dry with a towel.
Bam. Bam. Bam. His heavy pounding startled her. “Hurry up.”
Feeling brave behind the door, she stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m coming,” she cried back. All I have to do is channel the twin I really don’t know to fool a cop who’s hot as fuck and apparently has a hard-on for me—Jasmine—and not in a good way. Also he seems to be a damn good cop so I’ll have to really sell this switch. She tried for a smile only to grimace. Should be a piece of cake.