“I’ve actually been looking into selling it,” he lied.

“Whatever, Nic. It doesn’t matter. Not my problem anymore.”

With that, she pushed past him and didn’t look back as she exited the building.

He joined LJ and Betty at the security desk. “What am I doing wrong, Betty?”

“Most everything, but I’m not one to judge. Then again, I don’t think Ms. Whelan is tough enough for you anyway.”

“What does that mean?”

“You need a woman who can kick your ass. Now, what’s in that big white box? If that’s donuts and you force me to screw up my diet …”

“It’s not donuts. It’s full of nunya.”

Betty gave him a dirty look. “Don’t you pull no ‘nunya’ business shit with me, boy. Don’t get sassy with me. I invented attitude. It was me and Whoopi Goldberg. We pioneered the sass.”

“I don’t know who that is. Whoopi? Wait … was she on Hollywood Squares?”

“I can’t even look at you right now.”

He laughed and was about to fire back when their rookie team member, Hank Stromberg, stuck his head around the corner and said, “Sir, we have a hostage situation. The officers on scene are requesting immediate assistance, and Sgt. Ortiz isn’t—”

“I’m right behind you.”

Then Nic gave Betty his best sad puppy face. He didn’t have to say a word. She rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll get her to school. You just be careful out there, kid.”

Chapter 4

Standing beside the white panel van, Kruger watched the family of five as they exited the private vault company’s front door. The youngest boy on the end kept staring at him, despite his mother’s tugging. The big South African didn’t blame the boy for gawking. After all, Kruger was a seven-foot man dressed in a long coat and a stocking cap amid the sweltering heat of a Las Vegas summer.

He made sure to keep his distance, and he waited until the kid was gone before he tossed his sunglasses into the van. He didn’t even want a cursory description to be given to the police.

But he needed to make sure that no children were inside the building. That was the most important thing to him. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for a mission, but killing children had always been off-limits. Maybe that was why the squatter camp massacre had damaged him so deeply.

He saw the faces of those poor children as he cut off their heads. His actions were born of mercy, but they didn’t understand that. The fear in their eyes haunted him like nothing he’d ever done in the past. He’d always been a predator, but never a monster. Now he could no longer stand by that claim.

His hands twitched, and his whole body felt cold despite the heat. Tears filled his eyes.

He thought of his own little girl, Kianga. His sunshine. As he watched the family walk away, he thought of times he had spent with her. Taking her into Kruger National Park on safari trips to see the elephants, the lions, and the bevy of other wildlife. He had never told her that the lions had killed her grandmother, but he had made sure that she feared and respected the beasts.