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weren’t pretty. Unfortunately, one of those members revealed I was still alive during his last conversation with Rufie. The second the fucker learned I wasn’t dead, he made it his mission to find me.”
    “Well, fuck, eh?” Ronnie murmured.
    I chuckled, the sound dry and empty. “Fuck, eh,” I echoed.
    Grub—a blubbering mess of a turd by the end of our talk—wasn’t sure how my exact location came to be known to Rufie, but he thought it had something to do with Detective Dewey.
    Which meant once again, I was in the crosshairs of my old sadistic gang and authorities more corrupt than fucking sin.
    I didn’t want to tell Ronnie that. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to. I’d take care of the situation myself. End it.
    She’d tear me a new one when I got back, but at least she’d be safe.
    “What about the information on Trinity and Dewey and Kitchner?” she asked. “The stuff you sent to that person both you and Doctor Winchester know? What happened to that?”
    Fuck. I should have remembered Ronnie had a mind like a steel trap.
    “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Grub didn’t, either.”
    She scowled at me.
    I understood her agitation.
    Whoever the crooked authorities were, they’d made certain the information I’d collected on Dewey and Kitchner and Trinity’s more legal—using that term lightly—enterprises, had not gone public. As soon as I could, I’d need to contact Lila and let her know. It was highly unlikely our mutual acquaintance was shady or in Trinity’s pocket, but nor was he a fighter. If he was hurt—or killed—because of me, I was going to be very angry. And my anger would be a pale imitation of what Lila would feel.
    Heaven help anyone who hurt or threatened her ex-husband.
    “So what you’re telling me,” Ronnie said, tone ambiguous, “is there’s a target on your back and potentially lots of people aiming for it?”
    “That about sums it up.”
    “And some of them know where you are?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you’ve threatened to…what? Hurt anyone who comes after you again?”
    I wobbled my head in a non-committal way. I might be telling Ronnie the truth, but she didn’t need to know exactly what I’d threatened to do to Rufie and anyone he sent after me. I loved her too much for her to know just how vicious I could be.
    Still gripping the tonfa and sai , she crossed her arms over her breasts—breasts I would much rather be burying my face into at that moment in time—and fixed me with a direct stare. “I take it hurt is an understatement?”
    “You could say that.”
    For a few seconds, she didn’t move. Just studied me, her expression unreadable. And then she let out a shaky sigh, shook her head, and threw up her hands. “I liked you so much better when I thought you were just a prick of a next door neighbor, Lucas Pratt.”
    My gut clenched. My chest tightened. My mouth turned to dust. “What are you saying, Ronnie? That you…you don’t…don’t want to be with me anymore?”
    Jesus, the question was like razor wire tearing through me.
    The look she gave me was steady. “Lucas, after everything that’s happened to me in the last few days, I would be insane to say I still want to be with you.”
    I swallowed. Fuck, my world, my reason for existing…it was coming to an end. It was—
    “Good thing,” Ronnie said, tossing aside the two Okinawan fighting weapons, “I am.”
    My heart stopped. For a fraction of a second. Long enough for the world to grow completely devoid of sound as I watched her hook her fingers under the hem of the shirt she wore, pull it up over her head, and drop it to the ground.
    And then sound rushed back at me.
    The sound of her breath as she crossed to where I sat on the weight bench, the sound of my heart slamming against my chest as she straddled my lap, of her bra clasp clicking as she released it with deft fingers.
    The sound of my raw groan as her breasts tumbled free of their lace prison, of her sigh, of my moan as I