Won’t it ever stop?
But, no, it wasn’t stopping. Because she heard more shots, blasting away.
She heard voices yelling. Heard Cale swearing softly above her. He’d pulled his weapon, but he wasn’t running to chase the shooter. He was staying with her.
Guarding her.
“Get him! Northwest corner!” Cale yelled. “Now!”
Someone had just taken a shot—several shots—at them. No, wait...had the shot been aimed at Cale?
Or me?
“We’re getting out of here.” Then he was pulling her up, shielding her as he seemed to do too many times. They didn’t run for a vehicle, though, not like before.
Instead, they raced back inside the EOD—back into the safety of that building with its bulletproof glass.
Mercer was running toward them in the lobby. “What the hell is happening?”
Cale’s fingers brushed over Cassidy’s arm. “Someone just took a shot at Cassidy.” Cale’s voice was grim.
And Cassidy realized that her illusion of safety had just been shattered.
The case might be over, but the threats to her—because of who she was—were always there.
* * *
C ASSIDY S HERRIDAN WAS a dead woman.
Rage pumped through the shooter’s body, a killing fury that had to be unleashed.
Cassidy wasn’t in sight any longer. She’d rushed back inside that nondescript building.
I know about that place. The EOD’s headquarters.
Secrets had revealed that location. The right leverage, applied to the right people. With that kind of deadly leverage, anything and everything could be revealed.
Cassidy’s agent had rushed her inside. He’d moved too quickly, responding even as the bullet had whistled through the air on its way to Cassidy’s heart.
The bullet should have hit Cassidy’s heart.
But Cale had saved her. How had he known about the bullet? How?
The shooter hurried away. A getaway vehicle was waiting. A retreat now, but another attack would come, soon enough.
The Executioner wasn’t gone. He had one last victim to claim.
Cassidy Sherridan wouldn’t get to walk away.
Instead, she would get to join her dear friend Helen in the ground.
Chapter Seven
If he’d moved slower, if he’d ignored the kick in his gut that had screamed of danger, then Cassidy would be dead.
Cassidy sat in Mercer’s office, looking dazed and lost in Mercer’s leather chair.
Did she realize that shot had been meant for her? He’d shoved her to the ground, and the bullet had sunk into the bricks in the wall—bricks that had been right behind Cassidy.
The shooter had aimed for her heart.
Now Mercer was out there, demanding answers, and Cale had no answers to give him.
“Thank you.” Cassidy’s quiet voice.
His head jerked up.
“You keep saving me.” A ghost of a smile curved her pale lips, but her dimple didn’t appear. “It’s a habit you seem to have.”
He stepped toward her, helpless.
“Sometimes, it feels like I’ve been in danger my whole life. I’ve never...never gotten to just walk down a street without a guard on me. Never gone to a football game and sat in a crowd. Never done so much...because I’m Bruce Mercer’s weakness.” Her lips compressed as the smile vanished. “I learned that fact when I was eight, you see. When I was taken.”
Every muscle in his body clenched. “Taken?”
Her fingers drummed on the desk. The move gave him pause—Mercer did the same drumming movement, in that exact position, when the man was in deep thought.
“I was with my mother. We were going on a trip to meet Mercer.” She licked her lips as her fingers stopped drumming. “We didn’t make it.”
He was by her side in an instant. The pain in her voice shattered him. “Cassidy...”
“Mercer has a lot of enemies,” she whispered. “You don’t get to his position by playing nice.”
No, you didn’t. And Mercer had been in the business of death for decades.
“I don’t...I don’t think they meant to kill my mother. Maybe just to take her, too, but she fought them, and one of the men had a
But, no, it wasn’t stopping. Because she heard more shots, blasting away.
She heard voices yelling. Heard Cale swearing softly above her. He’d pulled his weapon, but he wasn’t running to chase the shooter. He was staying with her.
Guarding her.
“Get him! Northwest corner!” Cale yelled. “Now!”
Someone had just taken a shot—several shots—at them. No, wait...had the shot been aimed at Cale?
Or me?
“We’re getting out of here.” Then he was pulling her up, shielding her as he seemed to do too many times. They didn’t run for a vehicle, though, not like before.
Instead, they raced back inside the EOD—back into the safety of that building with its bulletproof glass.
Mercer was running toward them in the lobby. “What the hell is happening?”
Cale’s fingers brushed over Cassidy’s arm. “Someone just took a shot at Cassidy.” Cale’s voice was grim.
And Cassidy realized that her illusion of safety had just been shattered.
The case might be over, but the threats to her—because of who she was—were always there.
* * *
C ASSIDY S HERRIDAN WAS a dead woman.
Rage pumped through the shooter’s body, a killing fury that had to be unleashed.
Cassidy wasn’t in sight any longer. She’d rushed back inside that nondescript building.
I know about that place. The EOD’s headquarters.
Secrets had revealed that location. The right leverage, applied to the right people. With that kind of deadly leverage, anything and everything could be revealed.
Cassidy’s agent had rushed her inside. He’d moved too quickly, responding even as the bullet had whistled through the air on its way to Cassidy’s heart.
The bullet should have hit Cassidy’s heart.
But Cale had saved her. How had he known about the bullet? How?
The shooter hurried away. A getaway vehicle was waiting. A retreat now, but another attack would come, soon enough.
The Executioner wasn’t gone. He had one last victim to claim.
Cassidy Sherridan wouldn’t get to walk away.
Instead, she would get to join her dear friend Helen in the ground.
Chapter Seven
If he’d moved slower, if he’d ignored the kick in his gut that had screamed of danger, then Cassidy would be dead.
Cassidy sat in Mercer’s office, looking dazed and lost in Mercer’s leather chair.
Did she realize that shot had been meant for her? He’d shoved her to the ground, and the bullet had sunk into the bricks in the wall—bricks that had been right behind Cassidy.
The shooter had aimed for her heart.
Now Mercer was out there, demanding answers, and Cale had no answers to give him.
“Thank you.” Cassidy’s quiet voice.
His head jerked up.
“You keep saving me.” A ghost of a smile curved her pale lips, but her dimple didn’t appear. “It’s a habit you seem to have.”
He stepped toward her, helpless.
“Sometimes, it feels like I’ve been in danger my whole life. I’ve never...never gotten to just walk down a street without a guard on me. Never gone to a football game and sat in a crowd. Never done so much...because I’m Bruce Mercer’s weakness.” Her lips compressed as the smile vanished. “I learned that fact when I was eight, you see. When I was taken.”
Every muscle in his body clenched. “Taken?”
Her fingers drummed on the desk. The move gave him pause—Mercer did the same drumming movement, in that exact position, when the man was in deep thought.
“I was with my mother. We were going on a trip to meet Mercer.” She licked her lips as her fingers stopped drumming. “We didn’t make it.”
He was by her side in an instant. The pain in her voice shattered him. “Cassidy...”
“Mercer has a lot of enemies,” she whispered. “You don’t get to his position by playing nice.”
No, you didn’t. And Mercer had been in the business of death for decades.
“I don’t...I don’t think they meant to kill my mother. Maybe just to take her, too, but she fought them, and one of the men had a