So, “You can’t be scared and do your job. Fear makes you focus on the past, or worry about the future, but it distracts you from what you need to do right now. Let me worry for you.”

She swallowed.

He touched his forehead to hers. “I won’t drop you.”

Her shoulders rose and fell, and then she nodded. Stepped away. “But so help me, Colt, if you do something stupid and die—”

“I won’t die. I can’t guarantee I won’t do something stupid.”

She gave him a push, a smile, and he smiled back.

Okay. Good.

Friends.

He let the clench in his chest free. “What’s next, doc?”

Maybe it was instinct, maybe he spotted something—a glimmer out on the water—maybe it was simply years of training but as she opened her mouth, every muscle tightened.

“Get down!”

He launched himself at her, pushing her down and covering her body with his just as the glass wall shattered over them.

The glass pelleted them, but he was already scooping her up and pulling her behind the sofa with him.

Bullets chewed up her furniture, as a semiautomatic peppered the boat.

“Get behind the island!” He practically pushed her along the wood floor.

Her island, too, was taking damage. And he, without a weapon.

She had curled into a ball behind the island, but a stray bullet could find her spine, her head. He put an arm around her and pulled her hard against himself, shielding her. “Just stay down while I think!”

“We need to get off the boat!”

Yes. Given. “You got a car?”

“Yes. In the garage across the street.”

“Keys?”

“In the car. The garage is locked.”

“C’mon.”

The shots had decimated the furniture, her walls, chipping away the island.

Sirens sounded in the background.

Way to go, Pip.

But they couldn’t stay here, couldn’t be taken into police protection, not without knowing how far and deep this went.

Colt hit his feet, pulled her up in front of him. “Run!”

Good girl, she took off down the hallway, toward the back of the boat. But with his sudden dark luck, someone would be waiting for them at the door, so he urged her up the stairs.

“Get to the deck!”

“What?” She scampered up the back stairs.

He hit the second story, and yes, spotted a man on the dock, stalking toward their boat.

“Only one way off this, honey,” Colt said as he pushed her to the top deck. The shooting had stopped. Out in the cool, black water, the shooter lay in wait. But it was night and—

He turned and shucked off her bathrobe.

“Wait!”

He’d seen pajama bottoms and blew out a gust of quick relief at her being fully dressed. Flimsy, but at least she wasn’t a beacon of white anymore.

He took her hand. “Hold on to me and don’t let go.”