“Did that scumbag do this to you?” He motioned to the wound on her throat. It probably looked much worse than it felt.

“No. Of course not.”

“Don’t bullshit me, MacDermot.”

Exasperated, she snapped without thinking, “Do you think I’d let some guy do this to me and then fuck him?”

“Oh my God! You fucked Llewellyn?”

“I am not having this conversation with you!”

Dez, busy wondering how much time she’d actually do for killing her partner, barely noticed when her dogs suddenly spun around and charged back into the kitchen. She doubted they suddenly regenerated the balls she removed years ago and charge Mace. Someone else was in that kitchen. And one look at her partner’s face confirmed it.

Bukowski tried to grab her arm, but Dez yanked herself away from him, taking his sidearm with her. She headed to the kitchen but stopped dead in the doorway.

She lowered the gun to her side and took a deep breath to calm her exploding nerves. One false move here and she could destroy everything she held dear.

First, she ordered her dogs out with a barked “schnell.” Then Dez laid Bukowski’s gun on the side table and calmly walked into the room. She walked up to the four men in her kitchen.

Mace had her gun, a sweet little .38, shoved up against Vinny’s neck. Vinny had his Glock .45 against Mace’s temple. Jimmy and Sal had their semiautomatics—no way legal in this state—trained on Mace’s back. A Mexican standoff, and she could only hope to keep these four idiots from killing each other.

First, she focused on Jimmy and Sal. “I need you two to stand down.” When they ignored her, “I need you two to stand down…now.”

Their eyes shifted to her and, so slowly she thought they were completely ignoring her, lowered their weapons. She wasn’t out of it yet. Vinny was one of the best Marines she knew. Mace a government-trained killer.

She moved until she stood right next to them, her feet nearly touching both men. Slowly she crouched beside them and carefully placed her hands over each man’s, pulling their weapons away and up. Mace and Vinny never looked away from each other. They finally released their hold on their weapons, and Dez quickly stepped away. After one glare, both Sal and Jimmy handed over their guns as well. They knew better than to fight her when she got like this.

They also knew she had no qualms about putting all their asses in prison for illegal weapons possession and forced entry.

She walked back toward the table where she placed Bukowski’s gun and dropped the weapons there. She fought to control the shaking of her body. The thought of anything happening to her best friends or to Mace almost too much to bear.

She faced the man she held responsible for this bullshit. “Get in the living room,” she spit out betweengritting teeth as she handed him back his gun. “Now!”

Mace slowly stood, the dark-haired man following. They heard Dez leave the room with her partner, but they still hadn’t looked away from each other.

Mace glanced over the men. The blond one sported a tattoo on his inside wrist. The Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Marines.

“So…you guys interested in a job?”

Dez dragged Bukowski into the living room. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”

“You’re sleeping with some scumbag whose sister you’re investigating for murder and you have the nerve to ask me that?”

“I’m not investigating her anymore. I’m off the case. As of now.” Why should she pursue the case? She already knew the answers. “And I can’t believe you dragged the guys into this either.”

“They were as worried as I was.”

“You could have gotten them killed. In my house! The man’s a goddamn SEAL. He eats entire tactical units for fuckin’ breakfast!”

Bukowski shook his big, shaggy head. He often reminded her of one of her dogs. “I thought you were smarter than this, Dez.”

“Smarter than what? What is your problem with him?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” She sighed. Here came the big brother syndrome right on schedule. “No. Really. A guy like Llewellyn, all he’s going to do is use you.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“And you haven’t seen him in twenty fuckin’ years, but you went ahead and hopped right into bed with him.”

“I don’t hop.”

“Dez, I don’t wanna be cruel. But come on. A guy like that with somebody like you?”

She wasn’t as hurt as she probably should have been. She knew exactly where she stood with Bukowski and, in his own brutish way, he wanted to protect her. Still, that seemed a little harsher than necessary. And she was about to tell him where he could stick that particular comment when the swinging door to her kitchen exploded open, the wood banging off the wall and coming off its hinges.

Mace stormed into the living room, amazingly pissed off in just his jeans. It didn’t help his fly was only halfway zipped up, reminding her of what Bukowski forced her to miss out on. She could still taste Mace in her mouth.

Dez stepped aside as Mace strode angrily across the room. Usually the man didn’t let anything get to him. Not with that military-trained feline personality. Yet here he was, protectively pushing Dez behind him as he faced off against Bukowski.

Great. Another male protecting her. How did she keep getting into these situations?

“If you’ve got something to say, why don’t you say it to me?”