Page 34 of When He Defends

So when she came out with the agent, he wondered if it might just be a taunt. A way to piss him off. Tricky, tricky Emerson. Such a naughty tease.

Only then the man steered her into the shadows. He pushed her up against the wall. Then FBI Special Agent Gray Stone put his mouth on Emerson. He kissed her. She kissed him back. There, in the shadows. In the darkness.

He watched. He didn’t attack. Even though rage twisted and coiled inside of him.

Emerson, what are you doing?

He’d been angry before, back in Briar, when he’d seen the FBI agent rush out of her motel room. For a moment, his temper had taken control. He’d wrecked her room. Wrecked the Fed’s room. Left a warning for them both.

But then they’d stayed apart. He’d thought—maybe they’d taken his warning to heart. Or…or maybe he’d even been wrong. Maybe they had been talking about a case, and that was why Gray Stone had been in her motel room so late. Not because they were fucking. Emerson wouldn’t fall for someone like him, anyway. Stone would be too boring for her. He didn’t have enough darkness to call to the real Emerson.

But she was kissing him. Right then. Right there. Stone was kissing her.

He slowly pulled out the knife that he always carried. Started to advance.

And the howl and growl of motorcycles erupted into the night. He stepped back, darting into the shadows once more even as his head whipped toward the growls. He saw the lights from the approaching bikes. Shining—glaring—through the darkness. Oh, no. Had he been seen in the lights? He scurried back more.Even more.More hurried steps away from Emerson and the Fed, fast steps until he was almost running, but he figured the growl of those motorcycle engines would hide his retreat. Wouldn’t they?

Can’t be seen. Can’t be caught.

Rage blasted inside of him even as…

A glance over his shoulder showed him that the motorcycles were heading straight for the darkness that held Emerson and her Agent Stone.

Don’t disappoint me, Emerson. If you do, I’ll kill him first…and send pieces of him for you to find.

The growling andsnarling of motorcycle engines yanked Emerson back to reality. She shuddered against Gray. It sounded as if a whole stampede of bikes was heading their way.

“Don’t be afraid,” Gray told her. “I’ve got this.”

This? What was this?

He turned away from her. Put his body in front of hers, and those growls just got even louder. Even rougher as the small side street they were on suddenly filled with at least a dozen big, black motorcycles.

What is happening here?

She grabbed Gray’s shoulders and shoved up on the balls of her feet. The riders all wore dark helmets, with their masks pulled down to cover their faces. The first bike had stopped about five feet from Gray. The driver of that bike still gripped the handlebars as the motorcycle idled.

“You’re loud as hell,” Gray called out. “How about you try making a less dramatic entrance next time?”

The lead motorcycle revved again.

Oh, no.Emerson’s stomach seemed to drop. She knew that Gray had a ton of enemies in this world. Shehadn’tknown about his abduction and torture time. How had she missed all that? The powers at the FBI had buried that truth, but the gossip mill had kept some of the details going.

And now…

This.

The leader raised his hand. Made a circling motion with his gloved fingers. All of the other riders immediately turned and drove away. More snarling engines. More growls. Rather deafening in the small street.

But the leader remained. He turned off his Harley. Climbed off the motorcycle. He wore a black jacket. Battered. His hand rose to grab his helmet. He dropped it on the seat and then began to close in on Gray.

Slow steps.

Emerson remained on her tiptoes so that she could try to see him better. Dark hair. Thick. Hard jaw.

Would it kill them all to take this scene into better lighting?

“You taking the case?” the man asked.