I looked over Lord’s shoulder to where Jiminy stood, still leaning against the Tahoe, one hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it, and the other hand poised in the shape of a gun. He glared at us and cocked his thumb.

I turned, not wanting to see anymore, and led the way inside.

For the second time in recent memory, chills rippled through me despite the Louisiana heat.

I followed Elle inside, slammed the door, and flipped the sign to closed. What needed to be said didn’t require an audience.

“Mathieu, look sharp.” He spun toward me just as I tossed the keys to the ’Cuda at him. In any other mood, I would’ve told him not to scratch it, but right now, I had a hell of a lot more important things on my mind.

“Go park it in the warehouse. Don’t hurry back.”

Elle turned toward me, and we both watched as Mathieu high-tailed it out of the shop, the chimes on the door jangling as he shut it. I stalked over and locked it.

“What the hell was that?” I asked. I fought to keep the rage out of my voice.

She crossed her arms and glared. “I get stopped on the street by some guy, and it’s my fault? I was just trying to get to work.”

“Did I, or did I not, tell you not to walk?” I asked, taking three steps to put me toe-to-toe with her.

“Do not speak to me like that. And for your information, I didn’t walk. I got a ride. A ride that dropped me off on the sidewalk—and this still isn’t my fault.”

“You’re too fucking beautiful for your own good.”

Elle’s mouth dropped open.

“Still not my fault.”

I dropped my eyes to her feet and dragged them up her body. “Those legs, that ass, and those tits? Not your fault. That sexy yellow dress and those pouty red lips that make every man think about how good they’d feel wrapped around his dick? That’s all you, sweet thing.”

The lips I’d just called out snapped shut—but only for a moment.

“You seriously did not say that.”

“Damn straight I did.”

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t even—”

“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you, and the fact that unless I’m with you, you’re not in this neighborhood. Now that Rix has the spotlight on you, every gangbanger is gonna try to get a look. If they’re from his crew, they’ll look, but won’t touch. If they’re venturing out, then there’s no telling what they might do.”

“And who was this guy? Was he one of Rix’s crew?”

I shook my head. That wasn’t the point. “Does it matter? To you, none of them are good news. You see someone, you call me. Right then.”

“And what if they come in the store? Am I supposed to tuck tail and hide in the back room? How is that going to work?”

I reached up and wrapped my fingers around the base of my neck. Fuck. This was just one more reason she didn’t belong here. I should fire her for real. And if I did that, I’d never fucking see her again.

Rock? Meet hard place. My rationalizations started filtering in at Mach One. If I kept her close, always brought her to and from work myself—and worked all the same shifts—then there was no way in hell they’d get to her. I was her best defense against the position I put her in by letting her work here in the first place. Wasn’t it my responsibility to stand firm in that defense? Did it really matter what my motivations were as long as I made sure that her safety came first?

I dropped my hand. “We work together. We come and go together. If I can’t be here, you aren’t here. If I go out to look at something, you go with me.”

“Is that really necessary?”

I jerked my head toward the now-empty sidewalk. “What do you think he would’ve done if I hadn’t been here?”

Elle straightened and propped her hands on her hips. “Mathieu is here, and he seems pretty capable. Otherwise, he would’ve gotten acquainted up-close-and-personal-like with my gun. That’s what he would’ve done.”

Jesus. “I don’t think jail would suit you too well. Even if you’d get out eventually on self-defense.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been there before,” she snapped. Her eyes went wide just before she lifted a hand to her horrified face.

I couldn’t have heard that right. No way in hell had Elle Snyder spent a single second in jail. “Come again?”

She stood, completely frozen, and I closed the remaining distance between us. Reaching out to take her hand, I pulled it away from her face. “Tell me.”

Elle shook her head. “No. It’s not—”

“I went to jail on conspiracy charges. They got dropped when I agreed to enlist,” I said.

Elle’s voice shook when she said, “A DUI. But I didn’t even drive. I swear—I didn’t. I just … I woke up to the cop pounding on the window. I was in the driver’s seat. I don’t even remember—shit. That just makes it worse. What am I saying? It’s already worse. I can’t—” All my anger melted away as she stuttered out her explanation.

“Whoa. Calm down, sweet thing. No one’s judging you here.” I skimmed my thumb along the back of her hand.

It wasn’t anything to be proud of, but neither was my past. We all made mistakes.

“How long ago?” I asked. It wasn’t because I was judging; I was just curious.

“I was in college. A senior. The night before graduation. I didn’t walk.”

“Partied a little too hard?”

Her expression turned unreadable. “Something like that. I don’t drink now. At all. And I also don’t drive.”

“That’s why you don’t drive?”

“Yeah. So there’s no possibility it could happen again.”

It was the last thing I’d expected her to say, but I had to admire the conviction behind her words, even as my chest panged with her fear.

My thumb was still rubbing back and forth across Elle’s hand, and I didn’t want to let her go. And because I’m a pushy son of a bitch, I pulled her closer instead. Not anticipating my move, she stumbled into me. I steadied her by wrapping my other arm around her. A change of subject was in order.

“You ready for tonight?”

Elle blinked twice, and I decided right then that keeping her off balance was the best thing I could do. Anything else, and she’d always have her defenses up. This way she’d be too busy trying to keep up to remember to shut me out. She opened her mouth, but closed it before answering.