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But that wasn’t Ren’s immediate concern. Something about the way the trucker had eyed Stella’s body set him off. She’s mine .

Ren eased off the accelerator when he noticed the speedometer needle bumping one hundred. Corralling his panic, he rechecked his phone screen.

The truck had stopped.

Stella

S tella absorbed the blow to her stomach. “You need to get to the gym, fat boy.”

The cowboy held the jagged blade to her face. “I’m gonna carve my initials in you, bitch.”

Stella swallowed her fear. She tried to remain defiant.

The chains they had tied her to were on a moving pulley, and she was now hanging against the side wall.

Stella could easily kick him in the balls, but if the limping asshole came close enough, she could push off the concrete and get him in the head.

It wasn’t a great plan; hell, it was barely a plan, but it was all she had.

Stella refused to admit she was out of options.

Then, through her blurred vision, she saw him—quiet as death and reeking of malice.

This wasn’t the Ren she knew; this was Leo ; he moved like a lion stalking prey on the Savannah, slowly at first, then like a bolt of lightning.

He came up behind the trio and broke the neck of the quiet man.

Then he moved to her abductor, the cowboy, Emmett.

Ren’s meaty fist slammed into Emmett’s gut. Before the trucker could straighten, Ren had broken his arm and taken the knife.

Emmett curled his injured appendage into his middle and held up his functioning hand as he backed away. “Easy, Buddy. Didn’t mean to piss in your pool. Take her. Hell, have a go at her. We can share.”

Stella watched Ren follow the retreating man. The vein in his neck was pulsing, and the muscles in his forearms clenched and rippled as he cracked his knuckles one-handed. She noticed the limping man twenty feet behind Ren too late.

“Behind!”

The shotgun blast sent a hail of buckshot into Ren’s back.

He dropped to one knee as he threw the knife toward Stella.

It lodged in the pegboard behind her, an inch from her bound wrist. Stella grabbed the hilt and sawed through the twine.

With her one free hand, she threw the blade, landing it squarely in the neck of the shooter.

He fell to the floor and gurgled his last breaths, still holding the lit cigarette as his hand went limp beside him.

Ren staggered to his feet and plunged his palm into Emmett’s nose, driving the cartilage upward and back. The dead trucker remained upright for a few seconds before collapsing onto the floor.

Ren pulled the knife from the still-gushing wound of the other man, wiped the blade on the guy’s shirt, and staggered over to Stella. She was dangling with one arm, working on the twine. Ren sliced the rope and caught her as she tumbled into his arms.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Dandy.”

That made him smile.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

She eyed him up and down. “What? No cops? No report?”

“Not this time.”

Stella leaned into his body. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Ren tucked her under his arm. “What can I say? I’m morally gray.”

Stella wrapped an arm around his back but dropped it when he hissed from the peppered buckshot.

“Then let’s scrub the scene,” she said.

Before he could respond, Stella walked over to the row of gas cans lining the wall. When she found a full one, she kicked it over. She returned to Ren’s side as they watched the fuel trickle across the floor towards the bodies,

…and the still-smoldering cigarette.

“Time to go.” Ren pulled her by the hand through the open bay, then hit the button and lowered the garage door. Together they limped to Ren’s car. Stella was about to thank him for rescuing her when he spun to face her and erupted.

“Of all the stupid, idiotic, thoughtless things to do!” Ren yelled. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

She shouted back, “I’m sorry! You tied me up and drugged me, you asshole. I was just trying to get away from you!”

Behind them, an explosion blew out the windows of the building. Neither of them noticed as they continued arguing.

“That’s no excuse, Stella! I’m not a threat. You had to know that fucker wasn’t on the level!”

“Of course, I knew, but I could have taken him out easily one-on-one!”

A sheet of corrugated metal flew from the roof and landed at their feet. Ren and Stella walked around it, still shouting.

“I wasn’t expecting the guy to have a freaking rapist club!”

That took the wind out of Ren’s sails. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, they didn’t, you know, hurt me.”

“Good. That’s good.” He guided her around some burning debris.

“How did you find me?”

When they walked past the semi, Ren stopped at the trailer hitch and plucked Stella’s tracker implant from a recess in the linkup. “Put it there when I was chasing after the truck.”

Stella took the tracker, dropped it on the ground, and stepped on it. “And your key fob? Don’t tell me you found it in that mess.”

He held up the fob. “Air tag.”

Ren shooed Newton into the back and helped Stella into the passenger seat. When Ren was behind the wheel, the dog placed his front paws on the console and rested his head on Ren’s shoulder.

“What’s he doing?” Stella asked.

“He’s a therapy dog. I guess he senses distress.”

Stella examined the blood spots on Ren’s shoulder. “I guess so. We need to do something about that buckshot.”

Another explosion rocked the ground, and black smoke and flames engulfed the building.

“We’ll deal with it when we get there. There’s a clean shirt in my bag.”

“I’ll get it.” Stella maneuvered around Newton and retrieved a gray T-shirt from the small duffle. When she turned back, she was unprepared for a shirtless Ren Jameson.

She had never seen him unclothed before when she posed as Sofira Kirk. To distance herself, she imagined a pale, hairy man with a hint of a beer belly.

This wasn’t that. His right shoulder was inked with a sculpted lion’s head emerging from a bed of thorns.

A Latin quote weaved through images of a soaring eagle, crossed swords, a moon, and stars.

She wanted to examine it more closely, but her eyes traveled south down thick biceps and veined forearms, then over to his bare chest and eight-pack.

Jesus . Her nerdy scientist was a Greek god.

He caught her ogling and raised his brow.

“Sorry,” she said and helped him gently slip the new shirt over his torso.

“That’s okay. Turnabout’s fair play. I’ve stared at you for three years.”

Ren started the car, made a U-turn in the gravel, and pulled onto the road. “That’s going on my top ten list of fucked up shit.”

Stella shook her head with a half-laugh. “You and your lists.”

“What?”

“Top ten movies, top ten biographies, top ten investment ideas.”

He stopped the car at the end of the long drive as black smoke filled the sky behind them. The look of utter fury on his face conveyed without words that their tentative truce had been shattered. “You accessed my notes app?”

Shit . “I duped your phone and monitored your computer activity—standard surveillance,” she replied quietly.

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Ren, I explained why.”

“And every new piece of information pisses me off all over again.”

Stella looked at her hands twisted in her lap.

The side of her thumb was bleeding, and her wrists were chafed raw from the ropes.

The fact that he had just saved her life added to the pain of her deception.

Stella had no reason to feel guilty; she was doing her job.

As often as she repeated the justification, it didn’t seem to ebb the ache in her chest.

They drove for nearly an hour without a word between them.

When they passed Boston, Stella broke the silence. “So, where are we headed?”

Ren repositioned himself with a groan, and Newton returned his head to Ren’s shoulder.

“Maine.”

Stella simply nodded.

“You still think staying together is a bad idea?” he asked.

Stella looked out the window at the open road.

“Yes,” she replied. But now, it was for an entirely different reason.