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reached the final turn, they pulled over, parking in front of a shuttered sundry store. Brynn whipped off her helmet to review their plan unhampered, but Sean took the advantage, tugging her to him and kissing her soundly. If he hadn’t slid to a stop so that his thigh touched hers, her bike would have tumbled beneath her.
    Tongues intertwined and sensations all-consuming, Brynn lost all track of time and purpose until he released her, his hand lingering on her cheek and his gaze locked with hers, hampering her ability to remember why they were idling on stolen motorbikes on a dark street corner.
    She cleared her throat and shook her head in a vain attempt to reclaim her equilibrium. “What was that for?”
    He shoved his helmet back onto his head. “Just a kiss. For luck.”
    She eyed him warily. “Seemed like more than that.”
    “Yeah, it did, didn’t it?”
    Sunrise was fast approaching. Brynn forced herself to remember the stakes. His life. Her future. She hated that the two things seemed so unlikely to combine once they’d achieved their mission, but no plan was perfect.
    They had one shot to get what they’d come for—and to pull it off, they had to go their separate ways.

Six
    The lights on the bridge glowed neon orange. As Brynn sped over the four-lane, paved span, Sean locked his gaze on her taillights. He revved the engine of the motorbike, prepared to shoot off in her direction if anyone or anything attempted to stop her.
    God, he had it bad.
    Sean had been assigned to protection details before. But before Jayda—no, before Brynn—none had stripped him of his ability to focus on his job. Now, he was deeply aware of a dark gray shadow of loss lingering on the edges of his concentration.
    If something happened to Brynn, it would be his fault.
    If something happened to Brynn, the pain would be unbearable.
    And now more than ever, Sean knew his limits.
    He’d been an idiot, addled by his injuries, to think he could get involved with Brynn and not have it severely fuck with his head. She was the most dangerous mixture of woman he’d ever encountered—and that included Jayda.
    Jayda had left him hollow.
    Brynn, on the other hand, filled him to the brim.
    Ten seconds before his cell phone beeped, alerting him to the pre-arranged time of his departure, he took off. They’d mapped his route quickly, coordinating a meet-up at their predetermined location to be arrived at from separation directions.
    Sean forced himself to drive as if he had all the time in the world and nothing at stake. He saw nothing and no one out of the ordinary—until he reached the rendezvous point.
    Brynn was not there.
    He jerked to a stop. The chosen intersection, a block from el Creador’s apartment, had a hardware store on one corner and a café that opened only for lunch and dinner on the other. Across from the closed restaurant was a stack of law offices. The fourth corner was taken up by a derelict building, the brick façade plastered with fliers for concerts and festivals that had happened two summers before.
    He was in the right place.
    So where was Brynn?
    His heart slammed against his chest so hard he had a brief flashback to his time in the metal chair. He revved the engine again, hoping the sound would lure her out if she’d decided to take cover. Seeing no flash or headlight, he drove slowly around the block, rewinding their hastily drawn plans in his head.
    But Sean had made no mistakes. He reversed her planned route then shot off in that direction. His tight lungs fought for air as he navigated the deserted streets, wishing he’d held out for a vehicle that went faster than this buzzing bike.
    If he’d been going faster, though, he might not have spotted her.
    Or more specifically, her scooter.
    It was flat against the paved street. A wild line of scattered metal and tire tracks extended at least twenty feet from the wreck. He circled around then stopped dead, threw off his helmet and searched for a sign of where