Eric shook his head. “I stumbled over a beat at around three minutes. Is Jace breaking your concentration?”

Jace’s cell phone beeped with the arrival of another text.

I’d rather just stay at your place.

I’m not prepared for company, he returned.

I’m not company. I’m your girlfriend.

If you see where I live, you might change your mind.

I’m not that shallow, Jace.

Jace supposed there was one way to find out if she could handle the real him. He texted his street address.

I’ll meet you there.

“I’ve got to go,” he said to Chris.

“You’ll be back later, won’t you?” the producer said. “You’re up next.”

“I don’t know. I might be back later today. Tell the guys I’m sorry, but I have unexpected company.”

In the parking garage, Jace climbed onto his bike and started the engine. He headed toward home with demons on his heels. He had to beat Aggie to his place and hide his dirty laundry in his closet. Put clean sheets on his bed. Scrub the toilet. Then he’d have to take her grocery shopping. He’d just returned from touring for three weeks, and his refrigerator was empty. Maybe if he made her a nice dinner, it would make up for the fact that she had to eat it off a paper plate.

He parked his motorcycle on the street and headed up the stairs to his apartment. He was stripping the sheets off his bed when his cell phone rang.

“I’m here. Will my car be safe parked on the street?” Aggie asked. “This neighborhood looks a little shady.”

Little shady? Maybe. If she considered a dense forest a little shady. He glanced around his bare-walled apartment. She would not be happy here. He was embarrassed that he even lived here. “Let’s go to a hotel.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m already parked. Come help me with my luggage.”

“I’ll be right down.” He kicked the dirty sheets under his bed and headed down to help her with her bags.

By the time he reached the sidewalk, a couple of men were already helping her with her bags. Or rather, trying to help themselves to her bags.

One tossed her suitcase into the back of a pickup. Another tugged on her purse, which she was clinging to with both hands. “Give me your purse, bitch.”

“Let go, you fucking jerk.” She kicked him in the shin and gave her purse a hard yank. Contents spilled across the cement, but she was unwilling to give an inch in their tug of war. Not even when the man pulled a gun.

“I’m going to shoot you if you don’t let go.”

“Get a job, you fucking loser,” she bellowed. “This is mine. I worked hard for it.”

Apparently, Jace’s woman was lacking a fear gene. He knew fear though. It hadn’t gotten its claws into him in years, but it did now. His blood turned cold in his veins, and all he could think was to get her away from danger.

Jace charged forward and shoved Aggie aside, sending her scrambling to maintain her balance and still keep a grip on her stupid purse. Before he could turn to confront the mugger, two successive gunshots sliced through his body. The back of his right shoulder. Through his right arm. Tires squealed. The ground tilted beneath him and rose up to meet his face. Someone screamed his name. Everything went black.

Aggie turned at the sound of gunshots. Saw the blood splatter out of Jace’s arm. Watched him fall. Felt her world crumble. “Jace!”

Someone grabbed her arm and shoved a gun under her chin. “I said, give me your fucking purse. Don’t make me kill you too, you stupid bitch.”

She couldn’t comprehend the danger she was in, could only watch the blood spread in a widening puddle from beneath the only man she’d ever loved. “Jace…”

Gritting her teeth, she dropped her purse on the cement and grabbed her left fist in her right hand. With a scream of rage, she delivered a vicious elbow to her captor’s stomach.

He grunted in pain. She stomped the instep of his foot.

“Ow, bitch. What do you think—”

She punched him in the balls, taking him down to his knees. His grip on his gun slackened. She grabbed the back of his head and drove the bridge of his nose into her knee. He fell unconscious on the sidewalk, the gun tumbling from his grasp.

Aggie flew to Jace’s side. “Oh my God,” she gasped, too upset to do anything but hover over him. He was bleeding so much. Surely, he was dead.

She dialed 911. Before the dispatcher even answered, the sound of sirens coming from the distance sounded like a chorus of angel harps.

“What is your emergency?”

“M-my boyfriend’s been shot.”

“Your location?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.

“I’m outside. On the sidewalk.”

“Can you see a street sign?”

Aggie looked up and read the names of the streets from the signs on the corner of the nearest intersection.

The dispatcher said, “Take a deep breath, honey. Someone called about a mugging in progress a few minutes ago. Police and paramedics are already on their way.”

Aggie could hear the sirens growing louder by the second.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

She covered her lips with a trembling hand and looked down at him. The puddle of blood beneath him was spreading. “J-Jace.”

“Is he still breathing?” the dispatcher asked.

She stared at Jace, but her blurry eyes refused to take in anything but the blood pooling around his right arm. “I– I don’t know.” She glanced around, hoping someone with a lick of sense was nearby to tell her if Jace was still breathing. The streets were eerily empty. It was as if the world had deserted her. Deserted Jace. Her only lifeline was the calm woman on the other end of the line.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” the woman asked.

“Aggie,” she squeaked.

“Aggie, listen to his chest. See if his heart is beating. If it isn’t, I’ll help you start CPR.”

Aggie leaned over Jace and pressed her ear to his back, listening for the sound of his heart. It still beat, sluggishly at best.

“It’s still beating,” she said to the dispatcher.

“Is he breathing? Feel for air coming from his nose and mouth.”

She moved her hand in front of his face and felt his warm breath against her fingertips. “Yes. He’s breathing.”

“Then just sit tight until help arrives.”

Sit tight? That was the woman’s advice? Aggie dropped her cell phone on the ground. She had to do something for him, but didn’t know what. Should she try to stop the bleeding? Turn him onto his back? She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered brokenly. She smoothed his leather jacket over his back, not knowing how that was supposed to help. She brushed Jace’s hair from his forehead, leaving several streaks of his blood on his skin. “I don’t know what to do. Jace? Jace, tell me what to do!”

The sirens continued past the corner and toward the end of the next block. Maybe they had the wrong address. She had to flag them down. For Jace’s sake. As useless as she currently was, they would know how to help him.

“I’ll be back,” she promised Jace, scared to leave him, but more scared not to leave him.

She raced to the curb and waved her arms wildly at a passing cop car. Tires squealed as the officer stomped on his brakes. An ambulance did a U-turn at the end of the block and pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the street.

An officer climbed from his cruiser, eyeing the blood on Aggie’s face and hands with concern. “Ma’am. Ma’am, are you hurt? Someone called in shots fired.”

“No, I’m fine. Please. You have to help Jace. He’s been shot. Hurry.”

She ran back to where she’d left Jace and found the mugger with the gun groaning as he struggled to regain consciousness. He took a deep, startled breath and reached for his gun. The cop beside Aggie drew his weapon and went down on one knee.