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toward another man who came out from an office area in the back of the warehouse where they’d gone to hide. More came out, the place seemingly crawling with armed men.

“Fuck,” I uttered, darting a glance behind me to make sure no one planned to attack from the outside. I knew backup wouldn’t be here soon enough. Wyatt and I were on our own in a gunfight with who knew how many guys protecting something valuable they didn’t want us to find.

I dropped the clip and loaded another, swinging back inside the doorway to see Wyatt trading shots with two of the guys. I tried again, bellowing, “Police! Drop your weapons!”

One guy did, dropping to the floor with his hands over his head. Another guy shot at Wyatt, a metallic twang telling me he’d only hit the tractor.

A twig snapping behind me had me whirling around right when I felt a white-hot heat hit my calf. I went down, seeing a guy thirty yards away with a small pistol. My brain knew I’d been shot, which only pissed me off. I wasn’t going down over some drug hideaway shithole with a bunch of backwoods assholes who sold this shit to kids. I aimed, then pulled the trigger twice, watching the guy drop.

The searing pain in my leg only made my senses sharper. I crawled back through the doorway, and from my vantage point, could see three guys on the ground, hands flat on the concrete. One last dark head of hair was darting out from behind the office in the back. I looked over at Wyatt, who was about to come out from behind the tractor. He couldn’t see there was one more guy. I yelled at Wyatt the same time the guy popped his head out. I squeezed off one more shot to the ceiling above the guy’s head. Wyatt dropped again and looked my way, his eyes widening when he saw a trail of red behind me. The guy shouted he was coming out, his hands held over his head, no gun in sight.

“I’m fine,” I whispered loudly at Wyatt. “I’ll cover, you start arresting.” I threw my handcuffs over to him, which he caught in the air. He gave me one last hard glance and then ran over to the guys on the ground, kicking away weapons before placing them in handcuffs and resorting to quick ties when he ran out of cuffs.

I kept an eye out behind me for more outdoor security while making sure no one else came out of that office. By the time our backup deputies ran through the doorway with guns drawn and shouts of “police,” we had the situation mostly under control. An ambulance was called, and I knew all law enforcement in a twenty-mile radius would be here shortly. News of a cop being hit spread like wildfire. Just never thought it would be me.

Wyatt was suddenly at my side, the first sign of panic on his face as he ran his gaze over my body. “Where are you hit?”

“Just my calf.” I calmly placed my Glock in the holster at my waist, finally accepting that the situation was over.

I sat up, and Wyatt grabbed my foot, rolling up my pant leg to assess the damage. I hissed when he got to the wound, a hot poker pain taking over for the white lightning I first felt.

The first of the guys who’d been arrested walked by with the other two deputies. He did a double take when he saw Wyatt.

“Wyatt?” he asked, mouth falling open.

Wyatt’s head snapped up and his dark tan faded as he clearly recognized the guy who’d just been shooting at us.

The guy grinned, which hit me as insane. We’d just traded gunfire, he was in handcuffs, and the fucker was smiling at us now?

“I thought that was you. What the hell, man? Why you shootin’ at us?”

The deputy stopped trying to pull him out the door, looking between us like he didn’t know if Wyatt wanted to catch up. Like this was social fucking hour.

“You know this asshole?” I asked Wyatt, not able to keep the disgust from my voice. His friend had just shot me. I felt it entitled me to a little anger.

“Know me? Wyatt’s practically my brother!” the guy exclaimed, a gold tooth winking at the side of his smile.

24

Wyatt

A whole shit ton of dread hit my stomach, mixing with the panic that had taken hold of me when I saw Oakley’d been hit. It took every last second of the training drilled into my head to keep me focused on the job in front of me instead of running to Oakley’s side before we’d eliminated the threat.

As if active gunfire where my partner, the woman I was in love with, was shot wasn’t enough to get the adrenaline racing, seeing my past front and center pushed me right over the edge. I couldn’t even feel my face. All I could see was Oakley’s bright red blood on my hands and that fucker’s smiling face.

Jesse…something. Couldn’t even remember his last name. He was a friend of Ben’s. And at one time in my life, a friend of mine, but only because he could score a stash of blow that would keep my friends and me going for weeks. If he was here, it was because there was a drug deal happening. Just the sight of his familiar face made my stomach sour with regret and shame. I’d left that life far behind me and I refused to let it drag me back.

“We are not friends.” The bitter words scraped across my dry throat. I tossed my head toward the open doorway. “Get him out of here.”

The deputy yanked Jesse’s arm and got him stumbling away from Oakley and me. When I swiveled to face her again, the look on Oakley’s face was enough to freeze the blood in my veins. Her jaw locked tight and the light

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