“Really.”

“I don’t want her to, but maybe it’s for the best. It could be that one of those…men, you know, from the club, that she…yeah.”

As the guy’s lips flattened out like his gut had frozen up on him, Jim realized things had progressed between the two of them. Fast. Although he wasn’t willing to bet Dog on it, he’d wager his truck and his Harley that Vin and Marie-Terese had become lovers—because that expression on the guy’s face was kind of heartbreaking.

“I don’t want to lose her,” Vin muttered. “And I hate to have her running for her life.”

“Well,” Jim said, “then I think you and I need to make it safe for her to stay here.”

Safe from Devina…and from whatever psycho was after her.

At least Jim knew what the hell to do to some creep who had a case of the obsessions with the woman. As for Devina? Well, he was going to have to pull that one out of his ass.

Across the way, Vin looked over, and as they locked eyes, the guy nodded once, like he knew that things were going to get freaky and he was good with that. Extending his bandaged hand, he said, “Excellent plan, my friend.”

Jim carefully clasped the paw that was offered. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a pleasure working with you.”

“Likewise. Guess that bar fight was just a warm-up.”

“Clearly.”

CHAPTER
29

As Marie-Terese sat down after the last hymn of the service, she felt her phone vibrating in her purse and put her hand in to stop its rattle-and-shake routine.

Robbie looked over, but she just settled back in the pew, and gave him a little smile. The way she saw it, there were three possibilities for the call: wrong number, babysitters…or Trez. And as much as liked her old boss, she hoped it wasn’t him.

Abruptly, she thought of something she’d learned in college about veteran parachuters. It had been in psychology class and part of a study on perceived danger and anxiety. Asked when or if they had ever been afraid, the parachuters, who fit the profile of risk takers, overwhelmingly replied that the only time they’d been nervous was on their last jump—as if they might have used up all their luck over time and the odds they had beaten until that point could suddenly reach out and grab them just as they were getting out.

Funny, when she’d been eighteen and sitting in a lecture hall, it had seemed so ridiculous. After all the jumps those highfliers had taken, why would they have lost their iron nerve on the last one?

Now she so got that.