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I throw a towel at him, which he catches easily. "Don't be an ass."

"I can't help it. It's part of my charm." He pulls on a fresh T-shirt and grabs his leather jacket. "Come on, let's get you home before your fairy godmother turns me into a pumpkin."

The drive back is peaceful; the city lights blur past as we cruise through the late-night streets. Axl keeps one hand on my thigh, the other on the wheel, occasionally stealing glances at me.

"Thank you for tonight," I say, placing my hand over his. "It was exactly what I needed."

"Anytime," he replies, lifting my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles. "Seriously. Call me anytime you need rescuing from that fortress of testosterone."

I laugh, leaning my head against his shoulder. "It's not so bad. They mean well."

"They want you for themselves," he points out.

"And you don't?"

He glances at me; his expression turns serious. "Of course I do. But I also want you to be happy. Even if that means sharing."

His words warm something inside me. "That's surprisingly mature of you."

"I have my moments." He winks, turning onto a quieter street that will take us toward the safe house.

As we round a corner, Axl suddenly tenses, his hand tightening on mine.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up straighter.

"That van," he mutters, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror. "It's been following us for the last few blocks."

I turn to look, spotting a black van several car lengths behind us. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." His jaw tightens. "Hold on."

He makes a sudden turn down a side street, accelerating slightly. The van follows.

"Shit," he swears, reaching for his phone. "I'm calling your detective friend."

Before he can dial, another van appears at the end of the street, blocking our path. Axl slams on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt.

"Fuck!" He throws the car into reverse, but the first van has already pulled up behind us, boxing us in.

My heart pounds against my ribs as men in tactical gear pour out of both vehicles, weapons drawn.

"Axl," I whisper, fear closing my throat.

"Stay in the car," he orders, his voice deadly serious. "Lock the doors when I get out."

"What? No!" I grab his arm. "You can't go out there!"

"I need to buy you time to call for help." He cups my face, pressing a hard, desperate kiss on my lips. "I'll be fine. These guys don't know who they're dealing with."

Before I can protest further, he's out of the car and slams the door behind him. I fumble for the lock button, pressing it just as the first man reaches him.

Axl moves with surprising speed and grace, his fist connecting with the man's jaw before he can react. Another attacker approaches, and Axl drops into a fighting stance I didn't know he possessed.

I grab my phone with shaking hands, trying to dial Leo's number. The screen blurs through my tears as I watch Axl fighting.

He takes down two more men before someone hits him from behind with what looks like a stun baton. He drops to one knee but immediately surges back up, throwing himself at his attacker.

The call connects just as the driver's side window shatters. I scream as a gloved hand reaches in, unlocking the door and yanking it open.