Now that she’d heard his full story, could she replace the enmity in her heart with empathy? Have compassion for all he’d gone through in his life, and the guilt that had driven him to sacrifice what he claimed he’d most wanted in reparation for perceived sins?

It was too soon to know for certain, given her tumultuous emotions. And that kiss, which told her more eloquently than words the depth of his feelings, only muddled them further.

She sank onto the side of the bed.

At least they had time on their side. There was no reason to rush a decision. If he stuck around, proved he could be trusted to stay the course, maybe she’d think about giving this another go.

If he didn’t . . . she’d go back to the solitary life she’d created for herself.

Even if today’s brief taste of romance had whetted her appetite for much, much more.

She stretched out on the bed, every nerve in her body pinging.

Funny the twists life could take.

Last night she’d been certain that for the next forty-eight hours she’d be safe.

But who could have predicted Zeke would show up at her door, bringing with him a danger even her trusty Sig couldn’t protect her from?

16

AS THE BURNER PHONE buried deep in his pocket began to vibrate, Wolf’s pulse stuttered.

If Razor was calling, there was trouble.

His chief lieutenant had been instructed to contact him only during certain hours unless there was an emergency, and the man had always abided by that rule.

Angling toward the wall, Wolf pulled out the cell and pressed it to his ear. “Give me a minute.” He palmed the phone, strode a few yards down, and slipped into the men’s room. Checked the stalls.

Empty.

He put the phone back to his ear. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got a federal agent on our tail. Currently goes by the name of Zeke Martinez.”

Wolf hissed a breath through his teeth.

This wasn’t the sort of news he wanted on a Sunday morning—or anytime.

“Tell me what you know.”

“The guy I’m grooming to be my second saw him at the school. He thought he recognized him from a confrontation in Mexico a year ago, so he managed to get a photo of him and send it to his contacts in Mexico. They confirmed his ID.”

Razor’s news raised several questions.

Wolf focused on the most important one first.

“How do you know Martinez is a federal agent?”

“He managed to infiltrate the top levels of our supplier’s organization and was brokering a major deal when the Mexican Feds showed up and blew his cover. A bunch of people were shot—including Martinez. After that he disappeared.”

A gunshot wound would explain Martinez’s slight limp.

The man must be an undercover agent. Likely DEA.