“He will rest,” Raylin says. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to that.”

I arch a brow at her. Can’t tell if she’s serious or not. Her smile is faint, slightly strained. It’s been a tough couple of days.

“You have more lives than a feral cat.” Hawk is walking toward us with a swagger best seen on a cowboy than the heir to millions.

Yeah, I’m one to talk, I know. Then again, the three years I spent away from all this left its mark on me.

“Storm. Have you gone deaf, man? Are you listening?” Hawk is waving a hand in my face. He’s sat down on his heels in front of me. “Hey.”

Have I mentioned my brain is kinda doing its own thing tonight? Today. The sky outside is a light gray. The breeze coming through the broken balcony door is cold.

“What?” Raylin is sitting next to me on the sofa, and I lean into her.

“I said, good job getting the shooter.”

“Wasn’t me. That was Ray. She’s the reason I’m still alive.”

His light eyes flick to her and emotions flash across his face—suspicion, surprise. Approval. “Good.”

“What about the shooter?” Raylin puts a hand on my uninjured leg, distracting my already scattered brain.

“Nothing on him yet. No documents, no tattoos, no nothing. He’s unconscious, so can’t do anything before he wakes up.” He shoves dirty blond hair from his face. “If left to me, I’d waterboard him until he woke up, but the docs wouldn’t let me.”

“He has to be a hitman,” Raylin says, “someone who won’t be missed, that nobody knows. You wouldn’t be able to connect him to the mastermind behind this plan. They’re too clever for that.”

Hawk shakes his head, clasps his hands together and presses his thumbs into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. It’d make me feel better, though.”

Raylin snorts, the sound turning into a faint sob, and I lift my arm to put around her—only my arm isn’t happy with me right now, and pain screams up my shoulder.

Jesus. Fuck.

“You’re coming with me this time,” Hawk says, “and no fucking arguments. Can’t do a thing when there’s some psycho after you.”

Now he believes me.

Of course he does. You don’t shoot someone in a penthouse suite by accident.

“That would be quite the feat,” Hawk agrees, and wait a minute, did I say that out loud?

Nausea rises in my throat, and I swallow hard. “You don’t think I’m crazy anymore?”

“That’s still on the table.”

“I can’t come with you. We—” I glance at Raylin, who flashes me a quick smile, making my heart trip, “we can’t. Too risky.”

“Enough.” Hawk gets up and dusts his pants. “This isn’t up for debate.”

“You’re right. We can’t go with you, because we’re going to the beach.”

“We are?” Raylin is staring at me with wide eyes.

Those wide eyes that caught me when I first saw them and never let me go. Like dark nets in a night sky. And…

“He’s a bit out of it,” Hawk says. “Doc told me it’s the blood loss. He’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“My uncle,” I say, turning to Raylin, because we never finished our conversation that the shooting so rudely interrupted. “Left me the house.”

“The mansion at Boca Raton. Yeah, you told me.”

“In his will.” My mind is performing those weird leaps it normally does when you’re pissing drunk or on drugs. “That’s it.”

“That’s what?”

“The key he left me. What would it open? Something that was his and left to me in his will.”

“The mansion? But it’s not a house key…” She hisses. “Of course. The desk. In the office. One of the drawers was locked.”

I blink at her. “How the hell do you know that?”

She shrugs and grins. “Snooped around a bit.”

If I start laughing now, I may never stop. I put my hand over hers and lift it, turn it over. “I’d never have made it without you.”

Back at the beach, when I couldn’t seem to be able to surface from the dark. During the shooting afterward. The explosion. Rook getting hurt. And now this. The shooting. The riddle.

Disconcerting, how everything’s brighter when she’s around.

She smiles, mouth trembling a little. “Don’t you know I love you, Storm Jordan?”

I frown, then grin, then just stare at her. Wait a minute. Did she just say…?

“You really think we may find something at the house?” Hawk is standing there, hands in pockets, gaze cloudy. Oblivious.

Because she said she loves me. And suddenly I’m so happy I feel like I could float right of this sofa and out of this suite into the fucking clouds.

“I’ll take you to the beach house,” Hawks goes on and turns to signal to one of the security guys. “Besides, unless you get to the bottom of this and put the psychopath who’s after you in a pit, you won’t be safe anywhere. I’ll call my chopper to come pick us up, take us to the airstrip.”

“Now?” Raylin squeaks.

“Well, Ms. O’Brien, since we’re all at sea,” Hawk winks because this is Hawk, and he can’t get serious to save his own life, “I guess we’d better hurry, wouldn’t you say?”

***

I make a phone call to the hospital to make sure Rook is doing okay. Apparently he’s been ordering the nurses and doctors around, demanding they let him go, and threatening to get them fired if they don’t get him some steak and whiskey.

I grin.

“How is he?” Hawk asks as I lean on him, making my limping way to the elevator. We’re heading to the hotel roof to wait for the chopper.

“He’s ordering people around.”

“Then he’s fine.”

Yeah. Relieved, I give the cell to Raylin and let them both drag me into the elevator. “You coming with us, then? To Florida?”

“Damn right I am. Not letting you out of my eyesight until I’m sure you’re safe. Brat.”

“You’re only five months older than me,” I point out.

“In age. About five decades older here.” He taps his head as the doors ding open, and he steps out onto the roof, pulling out his cell phone.

“You’re getting on in years, then,” I mutter, leaning on Raylin as I half-limp, half-hop out of the elevator and onto the roof. “Probably can’t even get it up anymore.”

“Fuck you, man.” Hawk turns, gives me the finger, then starts barking orders into his cell.

“Not for all the money in the world, ugly face,” I mutter. The one person I wanna fuck is right next to me, her hold on me strong.

Her hold on me is complete, in every way.

The roar of engines and rotor blades from overhead drowns out our voices. Raylin shivers, and I clutch her to me.

Which reminds me. “Hawk, what about the triad?” I have to shout to be heard over the noise, and damn, I feel exposed, a moving target up here on the roof. Thank God there aren’t any buildings of this height around. “Did you arrange a meeting?”

“It’s tomorrow night. Meanwhile, you’ll need to secure the money. Cash, of course.”

Yeah. I wonder how feasible that is.

Doesn’t matter. I will make it feasible. “Need to call the lawyers.”

“All in good time. Let us get on the chopper first.”

That proves a bit tricky, because I am still woozy, and we need to get onto the chopper fast as the blades are still spinning. Hawk and his bodyguard who’s riding with us lift me up, and I sprawl in one of the backseats, groaning.

“Crazy bastard.” Hawk shakes his head as he helps Raylin inside. “Should be in a hospital, not doing this shit.”

“It’s my shit,” I counter, trying to find a position that isn’t making my wounds scream in pain. “I’ll shovel it myself.”

“A shitstorm’s about to hit.” Hawk winks at Raylin, making her laugh, and the sound is so sweet I forgive the asshole his shitty sense of humor.

See? I can make a funny, too.

“You’re clever for an old man,” I grunt, straightening my leg the best I can. “Not so bright, though. I mean, I had to be gunned down for you to believe someone’s after me. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Yeah, that you’re going to shut up and catch some winks during the flight, junior, or I’m having the chopper turn back to deposit your fucking ass next to Rook’s.”