Grant was in the lead vehicle. Shayne and Sullivan were driving in the second car with Nate. Brodie took the protective cover as the last in their line.

“We’re going to have Brushard in custody soon,” Brodie told Jennifer. He risked a fast glance at her. She looked so fragile. So tired as she sat beside him in that car.

“I was just doing my job,” she murmured. “I saw the evidence against him. He’d destroyed so many lives...” He heard the faint click of her swallow. “I had to turn him in, and now Stephen is trying to destroy me.”

He caught her hand. Held tight. “That’s not happening.” Not on his watch.

* * *

“WHY ARE YOU all willing to die for her?” The man known as Nate Wesley asked as he leaned forward.

Sullivan glared at the guy. He didn’t trust him for an instant.

“I mean, Brodie, I get that part. They’re lovers, right? Have to be.” Nate exhaled. “So she’s got him wrapped up tight, but you two guys? I mean, come on... You don’t want to get in Stephen Brushard’s way. Believe me, you don’t.”

Shayne kept his eyes on the road.

Sullivan knew the detective wanted Nate to keep talking—to keep digging his own grave with every word he said. Sullivan knew, because he wanted the exact same thing.

“You’re scared of the guy,” Sullivan muttered.

“He killed my Shelly!” Nate snarled. “Of course I’m scared of him. The man escaped a Russian prison. He’s got ties so deep with the Russian mob... He’s death. If you don’t give him what he wants, then he’ll rip your world to shreds.”

Shayne braked at a red light. The street around them was deserted. “And what he wants is Jennifer?”

“He doesn’t love her. Those softer feelings are long dead for him.” Nate jerked at his cuffs. “He’s furious because she betrayed him, and he’s an eye-for-an-eye type. He’s not going to stop. He won’t ever stop, not until he gets what he wants.”

Jennifer’s death.

Sullivan heard a faint click. He tensed as his gaze sharpened on Nate. “I want you to sit back now.” Nate had leaned forward, perching on the edge of the backseat.

“I won’t just wait for the guy to come at me. You think I’ll be safe in jail?” Nate’s voice rose even more. “He’ll get to me! If he thinks I’m betraying him, then he’ll kill me just like he’s going to kill her!”

Sullivan grabbed for the guy. “I told you to sit—”

Nate’s hands flew up. His uncuffed hands. Too late, Sullivan realized what that faint click had been. The cuffs dangled loosely from Nate’s right hand, and he swung that hand hard at Sullivan’s face.

“What’s happening back there?” Shayne barked.

Sullivan felt his nose break on impact.

Nate leaped toward the front of the car. He locked his arm around Shayne’s neck. The car immediately swerved to the right as Shayne fought him.

Sullivan’s hands closed around Nate. “Let him go!” he shouted. Damn, the guy was stronger than he looked. “Let him—”

The car crashed into a light post.

Chapter Nine

Brodie slammed on the brakes and jumped out of his SUV. “Sullivan!” He ran toward Shayne’s smashed vehicle, adrenaline and fear eating at him as he roared his brother’s name.

Jennifer’s footsteps pounded over the pavement as she rushed after him.

The back door opened on Shayne’s car. Nate staggered out. He saw Brodie. Jennifer. “They’re dead,” he shouted as he stilled under a streetlight.

No, no, Sullivan was not dead. Up the street, Grant had braked his car, and he was running back toward the wreckage.

Brodie grabbed Nate, his hands locking around the guy’s shoulders. “What did you do?” He shook the older man.

Nate smiled. “I wasn’t the driver...I’m not the one who killed them.”

This guy had been a government agent? “What happened to you?”

Nate’s eyelids jerked. “Death. You lose everyone, everything, then you learn to watch out for yourself.”

And Brodie felt the hard edge of a knife press into his stomach.

“Your brother had a knife strapped to his ankle.” Nate gave a little shrug. “I was always pretty good with knives.”

The knife jabbed deeper into Brodie’s side.

“I’m not calling Stephen Brushard,” Nate said. “And I don’t care who I have to kill in order to—”

Brodie grabbed his wrist, shattered the bones. The knife dropped to the ground with a clatter. Brodie shoved Nate back, back, until the guy’s shoulders slammed into the side of a brick building.

“If they’re dead,” Brodie said, his low words a promise, “then so are you.”

“You broke my wrist!”

“I’ll break more than that if you ever try to hurt my brother or my friend again.” Brodie held Nate pinned to the wall. He glanced over his shoulder, trying to see what was happening with the wreckage.

The front of Shayne’s car was smashed to hell and back. Glass littered the street. Brodie could see someone slumped in the backseat.

Sullivan.

Jennifer was climbing into the backseat, trying to reach Sullivan, while Grant had yanked open the driver’s door in an attempt to get Shayne out of the wreckage.

“He’s alive!” Jennifer shouted.

“He won’t be for long,” Nate whispered. “Stephen Brushard took away the woman I loved because she was in his way. What do you think he’ll do to those men? To the cop? To your brother? Is she really worth their lives?”

Shayne stumbled out of the vehicle. No other cars were on that street, not yet. This business area was usually pretty empty on the weekend.

Grant rushed to help Jennifer.

“Choose carefully,” Nate told him.

Brodie wanted to drive his fist into the guy’s jaw. “She lived as your daughter for years! Don’t you care at all about what happens to her?” He let Nate go but didn’t back away far. You’re not getting away.

“All that was a lie. The woman you think you know is a lie.” Nate stepped away from the wall. “I won’t lose everything I have just for—”

A gunshot rang out.

Nate’s words ended in a strangled gasp as red ballooned on his chest.

He followed us.

Brodie grabbed Nate and yanked him to the right, trying to give the guy cover. “Jennifer! Grant!”

At first, the only sound he heard was the wail of a siren, coming closer. Had Shayne called for backup?

Then... “We’re okay!” Jennifer yelled.

Nate definitely wasn’t okay. Brodie put his hands on Nate’s chest, trying to stop the blood flow, but the shot had been far too accurate.

The bullet had blasted straight into Nate’s heart.

Nate’s breath heaved out. His head turned toward Brodie. “See...told you...no...escape...”

His eyes closed.

No.

“Where’s the shooter?” Grant called.

More gunfire rang out then. More blasts. The bullets slammed right into the car. Brodie looked over and saw that Grant and Jennifer were in the backseat of Shayne’s wrecked car. The rear window had just shattered, spilling glass down on them as they curled over Sullivan.

Shayne was behind the wrecked car, trying to take aim up at a building on the right. Brodie caught the glint of a weapon on the third floor.

He didn’t follow us. He was waiting for us...

How had the guy known they’d be taking Nate to the police station?

Grant fired back at the shooter, and, using that gunfire as cover, Brodie ran toward the building on the right. The shooter was there...waiting. He could get him. But—

Police cruisers rushed up to the scene. Two of them. The cops jumped out and pointed their weapons at Brodie.

“Freeze!” a uniformed cop shouted. “And drop the weapon!”

The weapon? Brodie looked at his hand and saw the knife he’d picked up. Hell. Grabbing it had been second nature to him. “Wrong guy,” he told them. “I’m not the threat—he’s up there!”