she’d had, and pulled her hand free from his. She’d had a massive crush on Cole from the moment she’d met him. But if she hadn’t already known it, last year’s shooting had quickly shown her that they’d never work. While she’d turned in her resignation the very next morning—over the phone because she was too afraid to return to the scene of the crime—he’d gone right back to work.
They would never be equals. He would always be the brave detective with the badge and the gun, and here she was again, the terrified forensics expert. It couldn’t be more obvious, with her stuck in this hospital bed, in a hospital gown someone had changed her into—she hoped not in front of Cole—and him ready to dive right into solving the case.
But this time would be different, she vowed. Because she might be way too shy, way too awkward, way too boring for a man like Cole Walker, but she was tired of feeling like a coward. Two years ago she’d moved out to Maryland from Michigan, leaving behind her big, well-meaning family and the anonymity that came with being the middle child in a group of five. She’d dived into the unfamiliar, trying to break out of her comfort zone. She’d even bought a house, putting down roots right away, to force herself to stay if things got tough. And things had sure gotten tough.
She wasn’t going to let herself be driven out of the job she loved and the place she’d come to consider home a second time.
She clenched her jaw and looked back up at Cole, praying her cheeks would cool. “What do we know so far about the forensics? What can I do?”
Her specialty was computers, but she had plenty of cross-training. There had to be some way she could help catch this guy. And once they caught him, maybe she could get back to the task of putting her life back on track.
Cole patted her hand. “Right now I just want you to focus on healing up.”
“I’m fine.” She knew he didn’t mean to condescend to her, but if she wanted him to take her seriously as a professional—and not a victim he had to take care of—she needed to show him a reason. She shoved off the blanket and got to her feet, remembering too late she was hooked up to an IV.
The nurse ran in as her monitor went off, and Shaye clapped her hand over the crook of her elbow where she’d pulled out the line.
Cole stood, tried to steady her as she wobbled a little on her feet. “What are you doing?”
“Going home.”
“You need to be under observation,” the nurse stated, scowling as she slapped a piece of cotton over the blood on Shaye’s arm and taped it down.
“I’m fine,” Shaye said. “The wound on my leg is closed, right? My heart rate and blood pressure have been pretty normal the whole time I’ve been in here.” She’d been peeking over at her monitor periodically as she and Cole talked. “You said you were going to release me today. I’m ready to go.”
The nurse frowned at her, but it was nothing compared with Cole’s expression, a mixture of worry, frustration and anger.
Shaye stood her ground. “Have the doctor look at me if you need to, but I feel okay. I want to go home.”
The nurse muttered something under her breath, then looked her over. “All right. But if you start feeling dizzy or your wound opens up, I want you to come back here—understood?”
Nodding, Shaye hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. But she couldn’t stay here any longer. She needed answers about who had shot at her—and why. And she wasn’t going to get them on her back in a hospital bed.
She was tired of letting things happen to her. It was time to fight back.
* * *
“EVERYTHING HAS BEEN quiet all night,” Marcos Costa told Cole as soon as he drove up next to the car.
Cole’s youngest brother may not have shared his blood—they’d met at a foster home as kids—but they’d formed a bond that went deeper than genetics. After Shaye had spent several hours in the forensics lab, Cole had driven her home and then promptly called his two brothers to see who was available to watch her house until he got off work. Their middle brother, Andre, was on a mission for the FBI, but Marcos had been free.
Now it was 3:00 a.m., and everything looked quiet on Shaye’s street. Her house was situated on a corner lot in a cute little neighborhood that boasted its fair share of picket fences and young families. The kind of place where a stranger skulking about would be noticed.
Still, it was Shaye. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance. And his youngest brother worked for the DEA, so he had plenty of experience spotting suspicious characters.
“Thanks,” Cole said through his window as his car idled next to Marcos’s.
“No problem. We all love Shaye.” Marcos glanced past Cole at his partner, Luke, in the passenger seat and nodded hello. “Is there a reason we’re doing this on the street instead of in her house?”
“She doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Marcos said with a dimpled smile. “I’m wondering why exactly.”
“She refused police protection.” Luke Hayes, Cole’s partner on the force for the past three years, spoke up. “Officially we can’t force her.”
Marcos frowned. “But if someone’s gunning for her—”
Cole didn’t have to turn his head to feel Luke’s glance as he replied. “No one is gunning for her. The shooting that happened earlier this evening looks random.”
“Ah.” Marcos nodded knowingly. “Got it.”
“It’s a precaution,” Cole said, not bothering to hide his annoyance at what Marcos and Luke were clearly thinking. That he was overreacting because it was Shaye. That no matter how far out of his league she was, he was still going to be there whenever she needed him.
“Don’t worry,” Marcos said, starting his engine. “I don’t mind. But right now I’m going to head home and get a little sleep.” He started to shift into Drive, then paused and asked, “Shouldn’t you get some of that yourself?”
“That’s why Luke is here.”
Marcos grinned again. “You’re going to nap while he keeps watch?” He peered at Luke and joked, “All that Marine training means you don’t actually need sleep?”
Cole’s partner had been in the Marines before becoming a police officer.
“Ha-ha,” Cole said. “We’re going to take turns getting a little shut-eye.”
“Good luck,” Marcos said. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“You got it.” As Marcos pulled away, Cole eased into the spot his brother had chosen at the corner of the street. It was a perfect vantage point since it gave him a good angle on the two sides of Shaye’s house that abutted streets. The remaining sides of her house were bordered by neighbors’ yards, and they would be trickier for someone to approach.
Cole shut off his truck. It was a typical November night, hovering near forty degrees, but Cole didn’t want the running engine to draw any attention from the neighbors, in case
