Or had her tiny window to the outside world, which framed that one protestor to the exclusion of all else, given her a spotlighted view no one else had?

All at once the guy was back in sight, charging to the front of the group.

She gasped.

Her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her.

He had a gun.

“Brent!” She tried to shout a warning, but it was lost in the cacophony around her.

The man swung the gun toward the cop in front of her.

“No!” With superhuman strength, she broke free of Brent’s hold and shoved the officer shielding her with as much force as she could muster.

Under normal circumstances, her willowy frame wouldn’t have had much impact on a muscled six-foot-tall guy who was in full-alert mode, but a push from behind hadn’t been on his radar—and adrenaline was known to impart superpowers in life-and-death circumstances.

This situation qualified.

No one was going to die because of her.

As Eve thrust the cop aside, she pointed and shouted. “Gun!”

A sharp report echoed through the crowd.

She jerked back.

Frowned.

Had someone shoved her?

Another crack snapped through the air.

This one, however, was more muffled. Fainter. In fact, all the noise around her began to fade.

How odd.

And why did her legs suddenly feel weak and—

All at once, a searing pain sucked her into a vortex, and she slumped toward the ground.

Had she been . . . shot?

Maybe.

Because the last image that registered as the world around her faded was the ashen face of the man she’d hoped would play a starring role in a future that now might never be.

No!

As Eve sagged against him, Brent holstered his Sig and swept her into his arms, his gaze riveted on the round, ragged—and widening—red stain on the right side of her abdomen.

Despite all their efforts to protect her, Al had bested them.

But he wasn’t going to win.

Lord, please don’t let him win!

“Ms. Reilly’s been shot! Close ranks!” As he barked out the order, the cops around him complied while the other officers in the vicinity became more aggressive, driving the crowd back with every available means short of using bullets.

Thank God.

They had to regain control here.

“Let’s get her back to the tent, away from this mess.” The lieutenant muscled in and spoke in his ear, motioning for nearby officers to accompany them as he hustled the group toward the protective canopy.

Brent followed him, trying not to jostle Eve. She was breathing, but her complexion had lost every vestige of color.

Once inside the tent, he gently set her on the ground and knelt beside her.

Her eyelids fluttered. “Brent?”

At her barely-there whisper, he leaned close. “I’m here, Eve.” He took her cold hand. “Hang in. Help is coming.”

She didn’t respond.