of time.
The passenger door hung open, the seat empty, and pounding feet raced between the two buildings closest to Colt. A trail of blood droplets led from the scene. The passenger might be hurt, but he was fast and chasing after him would take time Colt didn’t have to spare. As much as Colt would love to pursue, there were bigger things to worry about. With gas leaking from the vehicle, anything could happen before he got the woman out of the trunk.
As sirens wailed in the distance, closing fast, he reached across and pulled the keys from the ignition, then rounded the rear of the vehicle. Popping the key in the lock, he held his breath, praying that what he found inside wouldn’t be as bad as he feared.
The woman lay in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees. She shook uncontrollably, eyes wide with fear as she stared up at Colt. “Please...” The word rasped from a dry throat and tugged at Colt’s conscience.
Gently, Colt scooped her into his arms as several black and white El Paso police Chargers raced toward the scene, their red and blue lights flashing in the night.
She clung to him, her fingers digging into his arms as she shuddered repeatedly. She was in shock. Terrified.
The ambulance hadn’t arrived yet, and Colt had to get her to the hospital. Sliding her gently into the front seat of his car, he buckled her in and shut the door, then turned to answer to the police officers who skidded to a stop in front of him. Although identifying himself as a Ranger could jeopardize his entire undercover persona, he had no choice. He had to make sure Adriana survived.
* * *
Slamming the door of the sports car, Colt stared over the top at the entrance to the emergency room where, not three minutes earlier, nurses and orderlies had rushed his suspect into the hospital.
His goal had been to keep her close during transport and to stay by her side at the hospital, but he’d lost her anyway when medical personnel refused to let him follow her. Right now, she could be making her way out some entrance he couldn’t see.
Colt slammed his palm onto the car’s roof. Nothing was going the way he’d thought it would. He should have known something was wrong before she was attacked, should have been able to sense it in the air. But no. He’d missed this attempt on their suspect’s life, just like he’d missed Greg’s treachery.
Tipping his head toward the sky, where the stars were muted by the lights of downtown El Paso, he shook his head. Greg. They’d been best friends for years. Fate, God, whatever you wanted to call it, had led them to work together on a few cases, had made them buddies. Cookouts. Football games. All of that male bonding stuff. Colt was supposed to be the best man at his wedding, which had been planned for only a few short days from today.
Now, as the wedding date drew near, Greg’s fiancée was behind bars for attempting to kill Kylie Perry.
And Greg was dead. A traitor to his country, a man who’d taken a small fortune in order to turn his head as drug runners crossed the very borders he’d sworn to defend.
Dead. At the hands of the woman who was somewhere in the guts of the hospital in front of him.
Dragging his hand from the top of the car, Colt’s finger caught in the divot left behind when a bullet had bounced off the roof. He winced and stepped back, for the first time inspecting the black Challenger. The roof had taken a couple of hits. The metal along the passenger side of the windshield sported damage, and a crack wound its way across the top of the windshield on the driver’s side.
He whistled low between pursed lips. Thought about thanking God for not letting any of those hit him. Decided against it. It wasn’t like God was paying attention anyway.
But Major Vance sure would be, and he wasn’t going to like it when Colt brought back yet another loaner with damage.
It wasn’t like he could help it. Getting involved in a shootout hadn’t been part of the plan.
Neither was losing their target.
He jogged across the parking lot, determined to find Adriana even if it meant going toe to toe with anyone who tried to stand in his way. He’d likely tipped his hand by showing off his skills in the chase and his badge to the police when he’d rescued her. He sure didn’t need her running now.
Just before the entrance, a shrill whistle echoed off the buildings. His feet slowed and his jaw set. He knew that sound. Knew who was behind it.
He wasn’t ready for this fight. Not now.
Before Colt stopped, he caught his breath and swallowed his frustration. No need to take this annoyance out on his teammates, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on this one.
When he turned, Brent McCord was almost at his side, his expression dark, his brown hair wild under his Stetson as though he’d ridden all the way here with the windows down.
Behind Brent, Ford Manning kept his gaze on the parking lot, his cowboy hat shading his face so that Colt couldn’t read his expression. He probably didn’t want to play peacemaker between his two teammates.
Colt jerked his head toward the door. “She’s inside. I’m on my way to find out where.”
“How is she?” Brent’s words were rushed, urgent. “She hurt?”
Balling his fists, Colt fought the urge to bite out a sarcastic response. “I don’t know. She was in shock when I pulled her out of the trunk, but she was conscious, coherent. The guy who stuffed her in the trunk hit her pretty hard though, and that was before that wild ride she took.”
“Was wrecking the car with her in the trunk your only option?”
That was it. Colt stepped closer to Brent, meeting green eyes at the exact same height as his own. “Would you prefer I opened fire? Took the risk of shooting her?” His voice was low, the words gravel in his mouth. Challenging Brent was another blow to his emotions, but he wasn’t going to be questioned. Not now. Not when the stakes were this high. “You weren’t there. I did the best I could. I’m sorry you’re girlfr—”
“Okay, enough.” Ford appeared in Colt’s peripheral vision and laid a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Do I need to remind you again that you’re on the same side? Or that you’re in public in front of the hospital and two of us are dressed in uniform so the whole world can identify us on social media as brawling Rangers?”
Colt hesitated half a second, then took a step back, hating that Ford was right on both counts. Bad publicity for the department was the last thing they needed. “Fine.”
Brent didn’t back down, but he did ease his stance, looking a little less like he was about to put a fist into Colt’s jaw. “Look, we have a problem.”
“From where I stand, we have a lot of problems.” Number one being their most wanted suspect was out of sight while they stood here debating her guilt.
“Enough.” Ford repeated the word, then shook his head. “I’m not the daddy of either one of you, but I’ll knock some sense into both of you if I have to.”
That did it. Colt’s mouth tipped into a grin, but it faded just as quickly. “What’s the problem?”
“Major Vance had a few of our guys track Danielle Segovia to a routine physical and
