I shook my head. “I think you should leave now.”

Rix took a step closer to the case. “You’re lucky I like you, Red. Anyone else, I’d be getting the information I needed the hard way.”

He pushed off the counter, and strode to the door without another word.

Cold invaded my chest and spread through my limbs.

This time, Rix scared the ever-loving hell out of me.

I needed to tell Lord he’d been here, but I didn’t want to distract him.

Mathieu came out from the back room, stomping toward me. “Was that Rix? Again? Lord’s gonna be fucking pissed I wasn’t out here. Shit.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

Mathieu studied me. “Fuck, what’d he say? You’re whiter than you normally are.”

I shook my head. “He didn’t say much. But … I … uh … might’ve mentioned that we think one of his guys shot one of Lord and Con’s boys in a drive-by.”

Mathieu stilled. “You fucking didn’t.”

“I … ummm … did.”

“You accused one of his guys?”

“I said it was what I’d heard. That’s all.”

“He threaten you?”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “Not really. I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Let’s just say I’m in no hurry to be alone with Rix again.”

“Fuck. Lord’s gonna kick my ass.”

I didn’t respond—just reached for the coffee filters. I needed to clean the glass. The repetitive, thoughtless task would settle my nerves.

I hoped.

It’d been a long day, but Damien was going home with only stitches and a really sore shoulder. It was a reminder that the streets of NOLA were not a forgiving place.

I hadn’t gotten my first bullet graze in the military.

No, that had come courtesy of a similar drive-by that I hadn’t been smart enough to avoid. I’d been lucky I hadn’t died from the infection and had been smart enough to get my ass to a clinic after the fact. They hadn’t believed my I scraped my arm on a rusty piece of fence story, but they also hadn’t called the cops to report it.

I rubbed the scar and looked to Elle. After the fucking craziness of the day, I wanted nothing more than to kick back with her and relax. She was wound tight, too, and I chalked it up to the same reason I was so beat. We could both use an easy night—a distraction. She and Mathieu had held down the fort all day, and it was closing time.

“I’m taking you on a date tonight,” I said.

“Another airboat ride?”

“Nah, something else. Got a friend playing at The Little Gem.”

However I expected her to answer, it wasn’t by blurting: “Rix was in here earlier, wanting to know what you told the cops, and I told him about the drive-by.”

I zeroed in on Elle. “Why weren’t those the first words out of your mouth when I walked in?”

“Because I wanted to know how Damien—”

Of course she did. But still, fuck.

I whipped around to look at Mathieu. “And you didn’t toss him out?”

“I was in the back, didn’t come up until he was leaving.”

“You swore you’d stick to her side.” I shifted my eyes to Elle. “And you didn’t even think to go get him?”

“It’s not like I had time. It happened so fast. He was here, and then…” she trailed off.

“Sorry, man,” Mathieu added.

I never should’ve left her here. I hadn’t known what I’d be walking into at the hospital, but I shouldn’t have left her here. Shit was closing in from all sides. Rix, whoever offed Bree and now Jiminy, and Elle’s family. Yeah, we really needed to get away from it all for a while. Hell, if I could, I’d get Elle away from it permanently. I’d tried that before, and she’d only out-stubborned me. But I wouldn’t be leaving her unprotected again.

I pointed at Mathieu. “You’re handling closing. We’re out of here.” I grabbed Elle’s hand. “Let’s go.”

A wide array of emotions vibrated from Lord. Annoyance, anger, frustration, possessiveness, and who knew what else. But above all, I got the feeling that things were about to take an irrevocable turn for us. Good or bad, I wasn’t quite sure, but I’d wait and see. The urge to bolt back to the safety of my own world was bubbling up inside me, but a much bigger part of me wanted to stay firmly in his. I was learning that there was a line between protective and possessive, and an even wider gulf between possessive and controlling. Lord was protective to be sure, possessive when it came to brushes with Rix, but not in the least bit controlling. I thought I could live with that—protective and even possessive could be sexy as hell when it was coming from him.

We rode in silence to his place, and I wondered if he’d already forgotten about his plan to go out tonight. “If we’re going out tonight, then I need to get a dress from my house.”

Lord didn’t take his eyes off the windshield. “Change of plans. I need you in my bed, under me, and I need to know that you’re right there with me.”

Hello.

All my girl parts sat up and took notice. “What brought this on?”

“Does it matter?”

I contemplated that for a bit. “I guess not.” But I knew it was a primal instinct springing from his concern for my safety after everything that had happened today.

Lord’s gaze raked me as he pulled into the gravel two-track drive. The intensity in it told me what kind of night I was in for. Within minutes, we were in the house, and he was skimming his hand over my shoulder, sliding off the cardigan I’d worn over my sundress. He set it aside before returning to stripping me. Rough thumbs slipped under the straps, and goose bumps lit up my skin.

He wasn’t wasting time, and I wasn’t about to slow him down.

“So fucking soft. Shouldn’t even be allowed to touch you.”

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Not a chance.”

The straps fell down my shoulders, and his big hand reached around to find the zipper and tug it down.

The dress floated to the floor, and I stepped out of it. My heart thudded against my ribcage. This felt so much bigger—like what was happening here was going to overflow the room and flood the entire neighborhood.