Chance Collision (13 page)

The cop watched them like a tennis match.

Luca heard sirens and frowned. Mickey’s dark eyes widened as Luca aimed, but he didn’t speak or beg. Maybe he was too stupid to realise what Luca intended.

He pulled the trigger and dropped Mickey like the sack of shit he was. One shot to the head and Caselli’s idiot nephew was dead.

“Gotta go,” Luca said to the cop, raising his hands in submission, despite the Beretta in his right one. “Sorry about the mess.”

The cop took a few shots at him, but Luca turned on his heel and beat feet to the door, slamming it behind him even though it wouldn’t stop a bullet. He leapt down the three porch stairs then ran down the street. The truck he’d stolen was no good for round two.

Tyres screeched to a halt and sirens blared as three police cars stopped outside the house. Luca ducked behind the side of the closest residence, peeking around in time to hear the pounding of boots up the porch steps and the shouts of “Police!”

He didn’t stay to watch.

Chapter Thirteen

Panic surged like never before in his life as Pete hit his knees beside Nikki. His hands shook as he holstered his weapon, and it had taken a couple of tries. She was too still.

“No.” The whisper was anguished even to his own ears. He pressed two fingers to her neck. Her pulse pushed back, thundering under his fingertips. “Thank God,” he breathed.

Cops poured into the living room and Pete took a moment to yank Nikki’s shirt down over her exposed breasts and zip her jeans.

This was all his fault.
Selfish bastard.

“Crane, we’ve secured the perimeter. Suspect is nowhere in sight.” Officer Eric Bartlett holstered his gun and came closer.

“Ambulance just pulled up. Are you hit?” Chloe asked as she strode into the room. She kneeled, joining him on the carpet.

“No. Just Nikki.” His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat—twice.

“This one’s dead,” another cop called out.

He looked over his shoulder to see one of the guys squatted down next to Mickey Donati.

“Pete, she’s gonna be okay. Breathing is great, heart rate is strong.” The sergeant pushed Nikki’s red locks out of her face after she checked vitals. “Looks like she has a bump on the head. Bullet hit her right arm, but it could have been worse. ”

Two paramedics shouldered them out of the way and Pete stood. Numbness swallowed him whole as he forced himself to back up. His arms shook but he ignored them and locked his knees so his legs wouldn’t wobble.

What the fuck happened?
The question didn’t go unanswered as his conscience fired back.
You were thinking with your dick. And she got hurt, asshole. Shot. She got
shot.

“Chief Martin and Agent Dawson are on their way. You’ll have to give up your weapon. Ballistics will need it.” Chloe’s voice pulled him out of his head. “I’ll help Manning or whoever takes over if he benches you ’cause of the shooting.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

Her pale blue eyes widened, and she cocked her head to one side, shifting her light brown ponytail. “What?”

“Luciano Marchetti killed him.”

“What the hell?” the sergeant muttered.

“That’s what I said.”

Nikki moaned as the two paramedics raised the gurney and Pete jolted forward, shoving the guy out of his way.

“Pete?” Her groggy voice made his heart leap.

He grabbed the hand of her uninjured arm and met her wide brown eyes. “I’m here. Right here. You’re okay, darlin’.” He wanted to kiss her but didn’t. Chided himself for the urge. Thoughts like that had got her hurt in the first place.

“Pounding headache. My arm hurts…” She moved her head back and forth on the cushion of the gurney.

“You got shot, darlin’, but it’s not bad. Promise.”

“Detective, we need to take her.”

Pete wanted to growl at the stupid medic, but he didn’t. He backed up, reluctantly letting go of her hand.

“Pete, don’t leave me.” Her panicked tone made his stomach flutter.

He glared until the paramedic stopped the gurney again and moved out of his way. He caressed Nikki’s cheek and smiled down at her. “You couldn’t make me leave you, sweetness. I’m right here.”

Her expression softened and she sighed, easing her gorgeous brown eyes shut. “Thank you, Detective.”

Pete’s heart went into overdrive as he stepped back and let the paramedics take her from the living room. He glanced at Chloe.

“Go with her. I got this. I’ll talk to Chief and send your FBI agent your way. I already got my guys canvassing.”

He nodded, because if he spoke he’d say something stupid.

* * * *

Pete watched her feet dangle off the bed in the emergency room as the doctor patched up her arm. It wasn’t bad. A graze that had torn the skin of her right biceps. Some stitches should do it.

After he’d held her hand in the ambulance, she’d come around and calmed. Nikki had thanked him and kissed his knuckles. Making him feel like more of an ass.

He should feel better that she wasn’t badly hurt, but guilt swallowed him whole.

Your fault. Your fault.

The two accusatory words reverberated in his brain, becoming a crappy mantra of blame he couldn’t quash.

He’d lost control. Of himself. Of the situation. Sucked into her. And she’d been hurt. It could have been worse than her arm. She could be dead.

Pain constricted his chest that all the breaths in the world failed to fix.

Failed was a good word, too. He’d failed in his duties to protect her. He’d failed in his vow to himself not to touch her. Kiss her. Hold her.

All-around failure.

She smiled over the doctor’s shoulder and Pete wanted to tell her not to bother. It sure as hell didn’t fix the pain in his gut…in his heart.

The sweet curve of her lips reminded him how she’d tasted. The feel of her mouth under his. Her every supple curve against his body.

Seeing her climax, the flush on her cheeks, heavy-lidded eyes of chocolate, the heaving of her gorgeous naked breasts as she’d panted through it. The hard little buds of her nipples and the feel of her skin on his tongue.

He’d almost come in his damn jeans, and she hadn’t even touched him. He wanted her to touch him, wanted her hands on his bare skin, pulling him close. He ached for her. And it was wrong. For so many reasons.

“Pete, I’m okay.” Her voice was even and calm.

“I know it,” he croaked.

“Then why do you look like your best friend died?”

“You’re good as new, Miss Harper.” The young doctor’s statement prevented Pete from answering Nikki—
Thank God
.

The guy in green scrubs patted her uninjured shoulder and flashed a smile that could have only been considered flirty.

Pete bit back a growl. “Can we go then?”

“As soon as the nurse checks you out, Detective.” The doctor appraised him with wide blue eyes.

Even Nikki was looking at him with an arched brow and an expression that said
What’s your problem?

Shit, shoulda dialled back the tone.
Pete cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“Do you need any pain meds?” the doctor asked Nikki.

She shook her head. “If I need something, I’ll get it from the drug store. High-powered stuff always makes me feel like crap. I’d rather deal.”

He nodded and excused himself.

Pete couldn’t help the glare he sent the doctor’s way. He pushed off the wall he’d been holding up and went to her bedside.

“Hey, dude. He wasn’t the one who shot me.” Nikki’s tone was amused. Her head was cocked to one side, as if she were trying to figure him out.

He shifted on his feet. Opened his mouth to answer, but his phone blared from his pocket. “Crane,” he said without looking at the screen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nikki’s brown ones.

“How’s Nikki? And what the
hell
happened, Crane?” Chief Martin shouted in his ear without preamble.

Pete winced. He’d known this was coming. He preferred the conversation over the phone rather than have his boss scream in his face in person, for sure. “She’s okay.”

Nikki’s gaze sharpened. No doubt she could hear Chief.

“What the hell happened?” The repeated question was at the same volume and Nikki echoed his wince.

“Caselli’s guys burst in, boss.”

“Where the hell were you?”

Seriously, Chief was going to lose his voice if he didn’t stop screaming. Pete held the iPhone away from his head. “We were in the living room. Together.”

Nikki averted her eyes. Pete sighed as their boss’s rant continued. There wasn’t much he could say. Chief couldn’t beat the shit out of him—mentally anyway—more than he already was.

Then the tirade started in on Pete himself.

Nikki snatched his cell out of his hand. “Knock it off,” she barked.

He reared back at her sharp tone and tight expression.

Damn, his little redhead was pissed.

“First of all, I am fine. Detective Crane has done everything possible to protect me. Taken me everywhere with him for three days. He’s not psychic. Even you thought they’d make a go for me. This isn’t Pete’s fault. So knock it off, before he tells you to screw yourself and quits. Then who’ll protect me?”

Silence on the other end of the phone.

No. Way.

Pete bit back a smile. He almost thanked her for the vote of confidence, but he kind of agreed with his boss. He
had
failed.

Dammit.

He sighed and dragged his hand through his hair for the hundredth time that night.

After a solid thirty seconds of silence, their boss cleared his throat. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I am.” Nikki softened her voice and met Pete’s eyes finally. “I have no doubt Pete will keep me safe.”

“Can I talk to Crane—please.” The
please
was definitely an after-thought.

“As long as you won’t yell at him.”

Chief said nothing.

“I’m here,” Pete said.

“You didn’t kill Donati?”

“No, sir. Marchetti did. Came right in and popped him.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, pretty much what I said, except he kinda saved our asses. Close-quarters shootout is where I was at,” Pete said, shaking his head.

“Dawson’s on her way to the hospital. She’s pretty puzzled, too. Get with Lucas in the a.m. and see what the hell he thinks. But tell him to stay home. I don’t want to see him at the station. There are phones for a reason. And check on Alberto Carbone. I called Health Solutions and sent another officer over. Tell Nikki her grandmother is fine. I also doubled the guard on Maria Mata at the hospital.”

“You working my case, boss?” The words were out of his mouth before he paused to think about them. He shouldn’t have pushed the man when his girl had had to save his ass.

His girl?

Nope. She’d never be his girl.
Thought we’d decided to forget everything?
And since when had he started referring to himself as
we?
Pete was losing it.

“You saying no to my help?”

“No way, boss. Sorry.”

Chief harrumphed. “Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

“Take Nikki to your place tonight. Best we’ve got on short notice.”

“My place?” Pete choked on his words.

Nikki narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

“That an issue?” his boss asked.

“No, sir.”

* * * *

“‘I told you to stay away from this.’ He said that?” Lee frowned, leaning forward on the edge of Pete’s black leather ottoman.

He nodded.

Nikki yawned loudly from her seat beside him.

Pete glanced over his shoulder and met her misty eyes. “Why don’t you go up to bed, darlin’? Take mine. I’ll crash on the couch. Lee, you can have the guest room upstairs.”

They’d agreed that the FBI agent would stay at his house, too. At least for the night. He sure appreciated the second gun. Maybe she should move in. He might be able to keep his hands—and other body parts—off Nikki if there was constant…supervision. Lee’s presence hadn’t dimmed his desire for the redhead, though.

“It’s been a long night for us all,” Lee said gently, looking at Nikki.

“I don’t want to take your bed, Pete.”

Yeah, he didn’t want her in his bed, either. Not without him wrapped around her, anyway. “Go ahead. Get some sleep. My couch isn’t so bad.” He patted the black leather cushion between them. Oversized and comfortable, it could actually sleep two side by side. He shut out the picture of the two of them curled up on it together the moment his mind coughed it up.

Reluctantly, Nikki stood. She stretched and her ample breasts hitched higher. Her shirt exposed the soft skin of her belly.

Pete itched to touch her. Take her up to his room, lay her out in his bed and make love—
Knock. It. Off.

“You win, I’m tired.” She yawned a second time, and hid it behind her hand.

“Night, Nikki,” Lee said. “Get some Zs, girl.”

“Night, Agent Dawson. Night, Pete.” Her brown gaze lingered his way and a tremor shot down his spine. He had to force his eyes away.

“Call me Lee, please.” The FBI agent flashed a smile.

Nikki nodded, her delectable mouth curving up.

Watching their polite conversation helped a little. “Night, darlin’.” Pete made his hands remain in his lap. He didn’t
need
to touch her. Really.

He stared as she ascended the stairs, swallowing hard as her jeans hugged her ass with every step. Wished he could see more when she disappeared at the top.

Lee cleared her throat and when their eyes met, one corner of her mouth shot up. She said nothing as she studied him.

Pete shifted on the edge of his couch. “I didn’t have the heart to call Cole tonight.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either. There’s always the morning.”

Score one for him. She’d bought his distraction
.
“There’s so much we need to piece together.” He sighed.

“Sorry I wasn’t there for ya tonight.” Lee’s tone was full of regret.

Pete grabbed her hand. “Hell, no, don’t you try to bring any of this on yourself. We were done for the night. It’s cool.”

“I should’ve stayed at the safe house with you.”