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Jay shifted, found her eyes. Hair disheveled, strong shoulders lolling forward, eyes wide and glued on her, he wore an intense look on his face. The way he just stood there, not moving toward her, pulsing waves of emotion around him prompted her to rise from the couch. The distance suddenly felt wrong, discomfiting.

A flash of heat shot through her ear from pressing too hard. She lowered the towel to check for bleeding.

That broke through his stupor. He raced to her side and swung her into the cradle of his arms. “Jesus, Charlee. I’m sorry. I needed to work out a plan with Tony, amongst other things.” He hugged her face to his neck and, in a few strides, had her in the bathroom and sitting on the counter, back to the mirror.

His breathing was wild, and a measure of him flinched at the sight of her injuries, something only present in the twitch of his scowl. Still, watchful caution remained in his eyes.

“They’re just graze wounds.” She raised the towel to cover it.

“Don’t. I haven’t had a chance to look at them.” He wrapped firm but gentle fingers around her hand on the towel and lowered it. “Fuck, you need a doctor.”

“It’s fine. My eardrum isn’t ringing so bad and—”

“A fucking bullet cut through your ear.” He flew backward and slammed against the wall behind him as if to keep her distanced from his anger. He swiped a hand over his face, sucking in air and staring at her out of feral eyes. “Fuck, fuck.” He punched a fist backward and dented the sheetrock. “Fuck, I should’ve stopped it. I should’ve been there.”

“You were there. Calm the hell down. You’re not helping.”

More punching. More dents.

What was wrong with him? He seemed fine in the kitchen. Did she look that bad? She turned toward the mirror.

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A small gouge separated the cartilage high on Charlee’s earlobe. Following the path of the bullet, a strip of skin the length of her thumb was flayed behind her ear at the hairline. It could’ve been worse. She’d survived worse. Although she wouldn’t be wearing earrings for a while, what bothered her was Jay’s reaction. Why was he punching the wall?

The bathroom wall propped up his back. His ready fists curled at his thighs, his head bowed, and his eyes were raised and clinging to hers.

Tanned skin smoothed his face, giving him a calm expression, but there was a restlessness in the way his eyes shifted between hers. She recognized that look from that morning, and it twisted her gut. “You’re high.”

Her words hung there between them until movement drew their attention outside the bathroom. Nathan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jay.

Jay pushed off the wall and formed the other half of the deadlock with an identical stance. They bandied hostile looks, flexing their jaws and issuing so much testosterone the small room choked with it.

She sighed. “Nathan.”

The only thing Nathan moved was his lips. “He’s high.”

Protective till the end. “He’s harmless. Is there a plan? We need to leave, right?”

Nathan glanced at the dents in the wall. “Backup’s here. So are the cops.” He met her eyes.

“And we can’t trust them,” she said, softly, miserably.

Jay swung his head toward her. “Why not?”

“They’re probably on Roy’s payroll.” She chewed a fingernail. “The officers outside are probably here to ensure this ends according to Roy’s directive.”

“Roy’s directive? Fuck that.” Jay’s eyes blazed. “Do we know who these corrupt cops are? Why don’t we just call in different ones? He doesn’t own the entire NYPD.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” A tic bounced in Nathan’s jaw. “But officers protect each other. I can’t penetrate the blue code of silence with a couple of phone calls. It takes internal affairs and special investigations a long time to unearth who’s on the take and who isn’t. We’re on our own.” He raised his hand and stared at the screen on his phone. “The security team is sweeping the perimeter. Could take a while, but once we get the all clear, we move out. Be ready.” He and Jay shared another stare down, and he left the room.

Jay closed the door and turned to her, eyes on the floor.

Where was the battle glare now? “Jay?”

He looked up, the richness of his gorgeous brown eyes loaded with uncertainty. “I’m not high…at the moment, if that helps.” He rubbed his neck and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m pretty much back to fucked up, angry, and vulnerable.”

A sudden influx of feelings for him welled up, filling her with a perverse sense of intoxication. His admission was the steel that made the man. He had no idea how courageous he was. “Everyone has vulnerabilities. A strong man isn’t afraid to show his.”