The woman sounded exhausted. He parked and lifted her out of the truck, ignoring his protesting shoulder and ribs while striding into the building and up to her apartment. She blinked several times when he set her down, and he couldn’t help but slide his mouth against hers. Would she ask him in? He couldn’t blame her if it was too much of an emotional risk.

She kissed him back, making a soft sound in her throat that shot right to his cock.

A sound clanked from somewhere in her apartment.

He went from aroused to alarmed in a second, shoving her behind him. His body went on full alert, and his focus narrowed. “Get down the hall.”

The door opened, and the silver barrel of a gun emerged from the darkness.

“Down!” He bellowed, charging forward.

He smacked the gun out of his way and tackled the gunman, taking them both down to the floor hard. He grabbed the guy’s shoulders and rolled them over, using the asshole as a shield in case there was another attacker. The guy punched Raider in the throat, and Raider secured his legs around his attacker’s, pressing his forearm against the guy’s neck and yanking his head down with his other hand to cut off the guy’s air.

Pain lanced through his head and down his hip, but he let adrenaline shove it away. No pain. Only fight.

The attacker flopped against him like a landed trout. He was dressed in a silk suit with a tie that bunched up beneath Raider’s chin. Was it one of the mob guys? How had they found him?

The hard tile bit into Raider’s back, and he held on tighter.

“Raider!” Brigid yelled, flipping on the entryway light.

“Get out of here,” he snapped, looking frantically around for another attacker. His gaze caught on a second man, this one leaning against the kitchen counter. His suit was a worn brown and his shoes scuffed with age. “Agent Fields?” he coughed out. The older agent with the grizzled salt-and-pepper beard just nodded.

Brigid shut the door and looked from one to the other. “Um.”

Raider released his hold and shoved over the unconscious body of Agent Rutherford. The younger agent had blond hair and wore expensive suits. Guy hadn’t fought worth shit, though. “What the hell are you two doing here?” Raider shoved himself to his feet and kicked the silver gun toward the living room. The two HDD agents acted as the liaisons between the HDD and the Deep Ops unit, a fact that nobody seemed to like much. As a handler, Raider really didn’t like having handlers. Now more than ever.

Pain flooded through Raider once again, and he fought it. This wasn’t the time to feel.