He pried open the doors. Light flooded their location. Gunfire rang out from above and from below. He reached for Sugar’s hand and yanked. She flew to his side, rolling on top of him into the hotel hallway.

Jared jumped to her and ran his hands from her cheeks to her hips, looking for signs of injury. No blood. No tears. No problems.

Pulling the concealed weapon from his back, he ducked into the shaft, looked up then down, and fired back. “Don’t shoot at my fuckin’”—girl—“team.”

Ping, ping. Bullets ricocheted around him. They would kill innocents if they kept up this game. Enough of this.

He jumped up and slid his weapon into its holster. Sugar balanced in her high heels, looking down the hallway. No one came out to investigate the noise. Smart. But he would’ve bet his AmEx Black Card that a dozen-plus callers had reported gunfire. He also bet that not a single one of them had been connected to real help. If GSI had a guy shutting down the elevators, they definitely had someone intercepting outgoing calls.

Jared snagged his phone in one hand and grabbed Sugar with his other. He blasted an emergency code via text to the team, but if they’d heard gunfire, they were already on the move.

Switching the phone for his gun, Jared kicked open the staircase door without letting go of his girl.

“This way.” He pulled her down a flight of stairs.

Sugar didn’t complain as they took the steps three at a time. He spied a service door and made a move. Checking once, then twice, for GSI, he shoved her in and shielded her, just in case. They tucked in behind industrial carts piled with dirty linens. Jared pulled out his cell and hit direct connect to Brock. “GSI’s on the move. Botched elevator hit. Center elevator. Bag and tag.” He ended the call and looked at Sugar.

“I shouldn’t have had so much tequila. I should’ve known this was coming.” She rubbed her temple. “Look, I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry for this, for earlier. For getting you shot at.”

“I get shot at all the time. Not a big deal.”

“But not because of me. I’m sorry, okay? I feel like crap, and not because of the Patron.”

Her big blue eyes shone. He didn’t know if she was overwhelmed or emotional. That didn’t matter—it was a knee to the nuts. “Shit, Sugar. My primary responsibility is you. Figure that out. Keeping you safe. Making sure you make it from point A to point B.”

Why did that feel heavier than I meant it?

Her bare shoulders looked cold. That flimsy shirt wasn’t one he would’ve recommended for a game of evade-and-run. She had black smudges from her breasts to her boots and marring her hands and face. A primal compulsion beat deep in his chest, like King Kong. Gather her up. Whisk her away. Just the two of them. There was no safer place than in his arms.