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ONE

PRESENT DAY WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15

SWAT medic Kenzie King grabbed her firearm and medical kit, then aimed her steps toward Dolly, the TK-4 tactical vehicle. With Commander Judson Hill’s quick briefing still playing in their heads, she and the other unit members moved with focused precision.

Outside, snowflakes dusted her and she blinked. Lake City, North Carolina, didn’t see tons of the white stuff this early in the season, but the mid-October temps had dropped last night, and the weatherman’s predictions had come true. Thankfully, it wasn’t supposed to freeze and should be gone almost before it touched the ground. Next week would find the temperatures in the midsixties.

She’d been on the job almost six months, so this was her first fall with SWAT, but she’d lived in Lake City all her life. Long enough to learn the weather could be as unpredictable as her schedule. Which was fine. Growing up with her father as the chief of police for the first fourteen years of her life, she was used to rolling with change. They made plans, her dad changed them. Constantly. Didn’t mean she liked it, but she could turn on a dime without blinking or whining. It helped that the majority of their missions were planned right down to the very last detail as opposed to the “hurry up and save lives” missions like this one.

Kenzie climbed into the vehicle, and Sampson Greene eyed her with that flat look she could never read, then turned his gaze to his phone. No doubt checking to see if there were any new or developing details about the situation they were walking into. His K-9, a seventy-five-pound Belgian Malinois named Otis, settled at his feet, ears flicking back and forth, tension running through his sleek, well-muscled frame.

Buzz Crenshaw, driver and sniper, climbed behind the wheel while Sergeant Cowboy McEntire checked his weapon in the passenger seat. Cowboy had been an explosive ordnance specialist in the Army before getting out and joining the team. He shot her a glance when she dropped onto the bench that lined the vehicle’s wall. “You good, King?” he asked her.

She bit her lip on her initial response, hating that snarky was her “go-to” these days. Cowboy filled in as SWAT team leader when Cole Garrison wasn’t there, which was fine. He did a good job with the role, and he didn’t mean anything by the question. And yet he hadn’t asked any of the others if they were good. “You catch more flies with honey, sweetheart. Remember that.”

“I’m just fine.”

Her grandmother was right as usual. Kenzie was getting worn down by all the hazing that had been going on since she’d joined the unit. But that was her secret. No way would she let it show.

“How’s the ED treating you?”

As of last month, she worked shifts at the hospital emergency department when she wasn’t working with SWAT, because renovating a house was expensive. “Fine.”

“You really gotta quit being so talkative,” Cowboy said over his shoulder.

“I’ll work on that.”

Kenzie shifted her medical kit out of the way of her feet and checked her weapon before sliding it into her holster. She might be the medic, but she’d been through all the training required to be a part of the SWAT team.

“All right, people,” Buzz called out, “we’re headed to the West Hampton part of town. Update just came in. Three hostages instead of two, still just one gunman. No known fatalities or injuries as of this moment. Garrison’s meeting us there.”

And just the mention of his name tightened her gut and caused her palms to sweat. A reaction that made her want to bang her head against a wall because of the confusion it ignited. Instead, she clamped her hands together and ran through the plan once more. As the team medic, she’d wait in a safe zone and pray her services weren’t needed. Nine times out of ten, the incident resolved peacefully, but there was always the chance this call would be the one .

Officer Scott Butler climbed in and slammed the door. His gaze met Kenzie’s and his lip curled just before he took the seat next to her. She refused to cringe as his hip butted against hers, rationalizing that it was a tight fit and couldn’t be helped. She just wished he didn’t hate her simply because she was a woman on the team.

“Rolling!” Buzz cranked Dolly, pressed the gas, and spun the wheel.

Butler rolled with the sharp turn and slammed into her, shoving her against Greene, who shot her a hard look but shifted, creating a fraction more space for her. James Cross sat across from her and frowned, started to say something, then stopped when Kenzie narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to voice his thoughts.

Determined to ignore them all, she righted herself and refused to let Butler get to her. No one had come right out and said it, but she had a feeling he was jealous of her position and acting out his frustrations like a three-year-old. He had medical training and felt like he could do the job as medic just as well as—if not better than—she could.

He couldn’t. She had MD after her name. He didn’t. Which, she suspected, played into his need to prove something to his other teammates. Some ego thing.

Or it could be something entirely different. Who knew?

She was clueless and wasn’t sure whether she should ask him or not. She just kept hoping when he didn’t get a response out of her, he’d eventually let it go and get over it. Hopefully soon. Please, God, soon.

Five and a half months in and she was still hoping.

Her gear was hot despite the cold weather, and Dolly’s air-conditioning hadn’t reached into the back yet, so sweat slid down the groove along her spine.

“All right,” Buzz said. “Get ready.”

Finally, they rolled through the police barricade and to a stop at the edge of the convenience store parking lot. Kenzie checked the pistol at her hip and grabbed her medical kit, maneuvering it to the middle of the vehicle where she could snap it open in a moment’s notice.

The men stood behind the protection of the SWAT vehicle, and Cole—she only referred to him as Garrison in front of the unit—exited his 4Runner, dressed in his gear, to join them. Kenzie couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been. Probably working one of the many cases he juggled in addition to his duties with SWAT.

And then it was time to focus. She listened as they ran through the plan once more if the negotiator on scene couldn’t talk the armed man down.

Two gunshots sounded. Glass shattered. Screams from inside the store echoed. Kenzie jumped out of the vehicle, her feet hitting the asphalt as the men swarmed toward the store, each heading for their area of responsibility, or AOR. Kenzie hung back but positioned herself so she could watch everything go down, listening for calls for help. The comms in her ear spit information nonstop as the members stayed in touch, giving by-the-second updates.

Cole’s orders came through and she visualized their movements through the store.

“Stay safe,” she whispered. “Please stay safe.”

SERGEANT COLE GARRISON relished his role on SWAT when he wasn’t working as a detective with the Lake City Police Department. And right now, he was trying to stop a shooter who seemed content to put bullets through windows and inventory before he escalated to people.

Cole and the team had entered through the back of the store in silence and stood next to the candy aisle, out of sight of the convex mirror above the checkout counter ten yards ahead. A woman and young child huddled next to the freezer in the corner. Cole raised a finger to his lips in the universal sign for silence. The woman—probably the kid’s mother—nodded and pulled the child closer.

If he waved them out the back door, the noise could cause the shooter to turn and then they’d all be up the proverbial creek. They’d managed to stay out of sight of the worker at the checkout, but if he took his eyes off the gun pointed at him, he might spot them. They needed to act before that happened.

The man with the weapon stood at the counter, his back to Cole and the team, gun held at arm’s length on the quivering teen at the cash register. “I said get him out here! Tell him to come face me like a man!”

“I tried, Kev! You heard me. He won’t come out of the office!”

The shooter and the worker knew each other. Good. Maybe. Especially if they were friends once upon a time. Might make it less easy to shoot the worker.

“He got me fired and he won’t even face me?” Kev scoffed. “Typical. What a coward!” He paused and rubbed his free hand down his face while the hand with the gun never wavered. Then he gave his head a slight shake and flicked the weapon toward the exit. “You’ve always been nice to me. I got no beef with you. Get out of here.”

The teen behind the counter darted around the side and bolted toward the door that led to the parking lot.

James had his weapon up and ready to fire. He nodded to Cole that he had a shot, but Cole balled his fist and held it up—the signal for everyone to freeze. If the shooter was going to let people go, he wasn’t going to interfere with the process. “Let’s see how this is going to play out,” he said, his voice one decibel above silent.

Greene signaled Otis to the floor. The dog lay on his stomach but was ready to spring with the force of a catapult should the moment come. He kept his eyes on his handler while his ears twitched.

The guy with the gun aimed himself and his weapon toward the office. “Leo! You’re dead, man! Stacy left me and it’s all your fault!”

Cole signaled Greene, who gestured to Otis.

The dog launched toward the suspect. The guy turned just as Otis clamped his jaws around the forearm of the hand holding the weapon.

A scream ripped from the man’s throat and he pivoted, weapon still clutched in his hand, barrel aimed at the team.

“Everyone down!” Cole’s shout echoed as the weapon barked and the team dropped.

Greene slammed the shooter to the ground with a command for Otis to release. Within seconds, he had the man in cuffs. “Clear!”

As one, the unit rose to their feet and moved in—all except Cowboy. He lay on the tile, gloved hand clutching his head while blood flowed between his fingers.

“Cowboy!” Cole darted to his teammate, hand reaching for his radio. “Kenzie, get in here! Officer down!”

Almost before he’d finished the order, she was through the door and at Cowboy’s side. “Cowboy, let me see it,” she said, her voice low, calm, the eye in the middle of the storm.

Even Cole thought his blood pressure might have lowered a fraction. He nodded when she gently tugged Cowboy’s hand from the side of his head.

“How bad is it?” The man’s voice sounded like he had gravel in his throat.

“Well, you’re conscious, so that’s a good sign.”

Cole glanced at the others, who’d cleared the rest of the store. The suspect had already been led outside where he would enjoy the view from the back seat of a patrol car.

The manager stepped out of the back with Butler at his side. Had to be the man named Leo. “He was going to kill me! You heard him, right? You’re going to put him away for life, right?”

“The justice system will take care of him,” Butler said. He rolled his eyes at Cole.

Cole frowned. The manager had just lived through a pretty terrifying ordeal. Granted, some might consider him a coward, but not everyone reacted well when they were afraid. He could have compassion for the guy. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Take some time to regroup, all right? See a counselor if you need to. Even though it ended without anyone seriously hurt”—including Cowboy, he prayed—“it’s going to have a lasting effect on you.”

Leo met his gaze and nodded. “Right. You’re right. Thank you. I...” He swallowed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more brave, I just ... I didn’t know how or what ... I knew he hated me because I fired him, but he was late all the time, didn’t show up and never called to let me know, and I just ... never mind.” He dropped his chin to his chest and headed out the door.

“Coward,” Butler muttered.

“Hey, he was terrified. You and I wouldn’t have reacted that way, but we’ve had training. Don’t judge him.”

Butler raised a brow. “Whatever you say, Sarge.” He trotted away and Cole shook his head. The guy was young, true, but he had a hardness about him that Cole didn’t much care for. Only the fact that he did his job and did it well allowed Cole to let some things slide.

He hurried to find Kenzie and Cowboy and spotted them still on the floor, although Cowboy was sitting up, leaning against a display of chips. Kenzie had her back to Cole and was working around Cowboy’s head.

“How is he?” Cole asked.

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed. “It’s more than just a graze, but ... I’m not exactly sure. I think it was a fragment that penetrated the skin, but not the bone.”

“You’re saying I got a bullet fragment between my skull and skin?” Cowboy asked.

“Yeah.” She shot him a small smile, but Cole could see the concern in her eyes.

Cowboy blinked. “So, get it out.”

She gave a short, choked laugh that sounded more like a cough. “Not here. That’s going to require some surgery.” She glanced back at Cole. “He’ll need to be monitored for a concussion too. He was out for a few seconds. If I were his doctor, I’d order a CT scan and keep him overnight.”

“Shouldn’t have told you I lost consciousness for a fraction of a second,” Cowboy said. “I’m fine.”

“Only because the bullet didn’t hit something before it hit your head,” Cole muttered. “Ambulance is outside. Let’s go.”

“Aw, man, I—”

“That’s an order.”

Cowboy snapped his lips shut and nodded. Then winced.

“You’d make me do the same if the roles were reversed,” Cole said, his voice softer.

“No I wouldn’t. I’d never treat you like that.” The whine in his voice was unmistakable and Cole smothered a laugh.

“Liar. Get out of here. You’re done until you get that piece of bullet out of your head and the surgeon—or Kenzie—releases you.” He helped the man to his feet and noticed he swayed before catching his balance.

“Dizzy?” Kenzie asked.

“Uh, yeah, maybe. A little.”

She stepped up and gripped his arm. Cole caught the look she shot him and nodded. They weren’t going to let him walk out under his own power.

Once Cowboy was safely in the ambulance with two paramedics hovering over him, Cole looked at Kenzie. Beautiful Kenzie King, who took his breath away and pulled all his protective instincts to the surface. Instincts he had to stuff down into the deepest corners of his heart. “Good work.”

She flashed him a tight smile. “Thanks. I just gotta grab my stuff, then I’ll be ready to roll.”

She hurried back inside the store, and Cole turned to find James watching him. James Cross, his best friend and partner. A man who knew him better than just about anyone. “What?”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t have to. What are you thinking?”

“What do you think I’m thinking?”

Cole scowled. “I don’t know, but you’re wrong.”

“If you don’t know what I’m thinking, how do you know I’m wrong?”

“Shut up.”

James’ low chuckles followed him all the way to Dolly.