you never saw the shooters?” Sully asked, drawing her attention back to him.
“No, but they didn’t know that. And they saw me.”
“But your friend took pictures. So you know who they are.”
“Yes, but both of the shooters are dead now. The last one died a couple of weeks ago.”
He angled his head to meet her eyes. “Then who’s trying to kill you? And what does this have to do with the Ridgewood gang?”
She sighed. “I told you it was complicated. About ten years ago, the City of the Dead disbanded. Most of their members were dead by then. The ones who’d survived ended up merging with the Ridgewood gang. And it seems the leader of the original gang—the head honcho who ordered that execution in the warehouse—was one of the ones who survived.
“We don’t know much about him, just that he now has power. Lots of power. We think he even has ties to the police. In fact, he had Markus Jenkins released from jail—he’s the head of the Ridgewood gang.”
“And that’s who’s after you.”
“It’s the only explanation that makes sense right now. No one else would want me dead. What’s ironic is that none of us can identify him. We don’t have a clue who he is. But I guess he doesn’t want to take the chance.
“I don’t understand how he found me, though. We went on the run after that shooting. We changed our names and moved around the country for years. I only came back here a couple years ago to be closer to Brynn. And I’ve kept a really low profile since then.”
“But somehow he found you. He sent his gang after you.”
It was worse than that. She came to a stop. The dread inside her grew. “I haven’t used the last name Burroughs since I left home. I told you, I go by Haley Barnes now. So this killer knows who I really am. He’s figured out where I live.
“And he knows that you helped me.” Fear for him chilled her heart. “He’ll come after you, too, now. You’ll never be able to escape.”
And unless she managed to stop him, history would repeat itself. And another innocent man who tried to help her would lose his life.
* * *
Sully didn’t know what disturbed him more, to think of Haley as a teenage runaway or that she had a gang contract on her head.
He sat across from her in her friends’ Baltimore apartment, still reeling from what she’d revealed. She looked so damned fragile huddled on the sofa, her face drained of any color, her full lips flattened with worry, dark circles smudging her soft eyes. Every instinct inside him urged him to drag her off to a distant cave, to hole up with her somewhere safe and keep the danger from coming her way.
Not that she was defenseless. Far from it. She’d taken down that gang member. She’d run straight into a firefight to save that pregnant teen. But a powerful killer wanted her dead, a man who’d hunted her for fifteen years. How was she going to fight that?
It wasn’t his business. He’d done his job. He’d gotten her to Baltimore and informed her friends about the attacks. They’d added some details to Haley’s story—that the victim executed in the warehouse had been a junkie named Allen Chambers, and that one of the shooters had been a cop.
But he’d done his part. And now it was time to go. Her friends could take it from here.
They emerged from the kitchen just then. Brynn Elliot, a diminutive redhead with a heavily bandaged shoulder, settled next to Haley on the couch. Her fiancé took a seat on the armchair opposite his. Parker McCall was tall, nearly Sully’s height, with a steady, unflinching gaze—a man who inspired trust. He had one arm in a sling, courtesy of the same gun battle that wounded Brynn.
“We made some calls,” Brynn told Haley. “Parker can get you into a safe house. Both of you,” she added, glancing Sully’s way.
“Thanks, but I’ll be all right on my own.”
“I’m not going into hiding, either,” Haley said.
“It’s not forever,” her friend told her. “Just until we track this guy down.”
“But—”
“Haley, you’ve got a reward on your head.” Exasperation tinged Brynn’s voice. “The Ridgewood gang’s going to be searching for you everywhere. You’ve got to go somewhere safe.”
The cop shifted forward, drawing their gaze. “Brynn’s right. It’s too dangerous. You need to go to a safe house.”
“You’re not hiding,” Haley pointed out. “And you’re in as much danger as I am.”
The redhead shook her head. “No, I’m not. There isn’t a contract out on me.”
“That you know of.”
“Right. But I’ve also got Parker to watch my back.”
Whereas Haley was on her own. Sully clasped his hands, trying not to care. Not his business, he reminded himself fiercely. He needed to forget her plight, forget the fear shadowing her lovely eyes, forget how soft she’d felt when he’d held her arm.
“It’s only for a while,” her friend argued. “Only until we find out who’s behind all this.”
“And how long will that take? Months? Years? You said you aren’t making progress.”
Sully frowned at that. “You don’t have any leads?”
“No.” Parker grimaced. “It’s someone high up. We know that much. Everyone’s running scared. All our snitches refuse to talk.”
“All the more reason to hide,” Brynn pointed out.
But Haley only shook her head. “Look. I know you mean well. It makes sense to lay low for a while. And the runaways don’t need me now. They’re safer if I stay away.
“But I don’t want to hide. I’ve spent too many years on the run—and the danger still hasn’t gone away. And I’m sick of it. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, wondering when he’s going to catch up. I have to at least try to fight back.”
“How?” Sully cut in, not liking how this was going. “You can’t fight a gang like that. Christ, you saw them. They even had an E-13.”
The cop shot him a startled glance. “What?”
Sully exhaled. “I forgot to tell you. They had one in the car.”
“An E-13? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I fired one in Afghanistan. I recognized the design—the bullpup configuration, the top-mounted magazine. And those high-velocity cartridges made Swiss cheese out of those cars. We’re lucky they couldn’t control their shots.”
“Then the rumors on the street are true....”
“What rumors? What’s an E-13?” Haley asked. Both women looked confused.
“It’s
