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covers away as she turned toward me. The long line of her body was hidden in the white towel wrapped loosely around her still form. Dark, glossy hair fell in waves around a face that must have been sculpted on one of the lord’s best days. Her skin was a smooth and tan, with just a hint of red from the sun she’d been subjected to in the desert. The heritage that gave her the dark chestnut hair and thick, black eyelashes must have provided enough sun resistance to help keep her from burning to a crisp.
    Standing there in the dark, I thought about Piston and The Fallen. My brothers were going to furious at me when I strolled back into the club with a useless woman and either way less money for our next run at best or cartel thugs on my heels at worst. No doubt they’d draw and meet me at the front door, ready to defend, but I was in for an ass-kicking when church rolled around. Making decisions solo wasn’t my job.
    But I couldn’t dread getting back to LA right now, not when time was of the essence. When the guard shifts changed, we needed to get the fuck out of dodge before it was too late to save her—or myself. For the first time, I was thankful that the Pres had elected to send me here enough in the past year that I was familiar with the current guard rotation. Never thought I’d have to use the information, though.
    Sighing, I watched her eyes roll under her lids. I wondered whether she was having a nightmare. Nothing I could do about it—I had enough shit on my plate. Going against Manuel’s wishes was going to stir up some trouble that I wasn’t ready to deal with, but no matter how tarnished I’d become since I left the Army, I couldn’t leave an innocent girl to die.
    Not ever.
    Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached out and placed a hand on her arm. She came awake without any of the yawning or stretching I expected. One moment she was asleep, then she wasn’t. Her eyes were open and focused on me, a clear, startling green that reached to the darkest parts of me and made them feel lighter somehow. Being near her was like the drugs my dad warned me away from for so long—no question, the girl could get addictive if I let her.
    “I’m sorry for the things I said.” I hadn’t meant to lead with that, but it was still true. Piston can treat women like they’re interchangeable sluts who ride his lap for coke, but I’ve never seen it that way. Speaking to her like she was a body without a brain in front of Manuel had been necessary, but distasteful. I may wear the 1%  patch, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.
    “You had to.” She tilted her head to the side, then pushed the hair back out of her face. Every time she examined me, it felt like she was pulling me apart and looking to see all the things I kept hidden. Something about her rocked me and I fucking hated it—but I couldn’t pull away. It was as intoxicating as the first drink I shared with Piston when we were idiot kids nipping at the patched brothers’ heels.
    I’d expected tears and pleas, but instead she met me with a steady gaze and words of absolution. Again, I gave thanks for the fact that she was stronger than she looked. It meant we might have a chance of getting out alive.
    She put out her hand. Reaching out, I grasped it, noticed how much smaller than mine it was. Her bones were fine, delicate. Too delicate for a place like this. With a short tug, I pulled her into a sitting position.
    “What are we going to do?”
    “I’m not putting a bullet in your head,” I said, wanting to reassure her of that fact right away. “Everything went to shit after you left. Manuel is using your death as some kind of test that I’m about to fuck up. Don’t get me wrong, Emmy, I intend for both of us to get out of here…but you have to do exactly what I say.”
    “I’ll do anything.” Her face had tightened when I’d called her Emmy, but she didn’t say a word. Smart girl .
    “For now, you need to get some sleep. Shifts change