Chapter 6

The SWAT team gathered around the command post for a briefing from Captain Davis. Rory leaned against the side of the truck, his weapon held loosely in one hand and pointed at the pavement. There as backup to serving a warrant, he felt relaxed but ready. This was a smash and grab operation, nothing like lying on a roof top watching a suspect through the crosshairs. At the sound of a car door shutting, he glanced over at the late arrival and his gut twisted. Doc Burns. What was she doing here? This wasn’t a hostage negotiation.

Captain Davis waved her over and included her in the briefing. “I’ve asked Dr. Burns to observe tonight. We already know she’s a great negotiator—” Murmurs of agreement from the team interrupted him. “But she needs a crash course in what SWAT is all about. Jessie, I asked you to bring your extra vest. Will you help the doctor suit up? She’ll be part of Team Two, and I don’t want to take any chances.”

Rory bit his tongue. She could watch the action from the command post just fine. She did not need to be anywhere close to the action. This might be a routine warrant service and search, but things could still go wrong.

Scott jabbed him in the side with his elbow. He cut his eyes and caught the almost imperceptible shake of his best friend’s head. Scotty’s message came through loud and clear, but he still didn’t have to like it—and he didn’t want to take the time to analyze his feelings. He’d gotten along just fine being out of touch with them, thank you very much. He hated the meetings with Dr. Burns. But, if he were absolutely honest, he looked forward to them because they meant he could see her, be in the same space with her. Her voice and perfume washed over him like… He chambered a round in his weapon to jerk his thoughts back from that uncomfortable path. The damn woman burrowed under his skin like some sort of parasite. And despite his protestations, her safety—and her happiness—remained paramount to him. He was one screwed up sonavabitch.

“Team One, head to the target location. Team Two, standby.”

Rory hoisted his weapon to the ready position and moved out. Scott and New Boy followed. Hoss, carrying the battering ram, brought up the rear. Sticking to the shadows, they drifted down the street to the house where their suspect remained holed up, according to the snitch. Scott peeled off and jogged between the house and its neighbor to cover the back entrance. Most of the windows remained dark. One window on the first floor flickered with the light cast by a TV screen.

Hoss moved to the front as they climbed the front steps. Rory banged on the door and yelled. “Police. We have a warrant. Open the door.” The lights switched off as Rory counted a hurried ten in his head. “GO!”

With one swing of the ram, the front door shattered. Rory was the first one through, New Boy hard on his heels, as Hoss tossed the battering ram aside and pulled his weapon to follow. They cleared the front room and headed toward the kitchen when Scott’s shout kicked them into a higher gear.

“Stop right there!” Scott commanded from the other room. “Face down on the floor.”

In the play of flashlights, Scott handcuffed and patted down the man on the floor.

“Suspect in custody,” New Boy claimed as he keyed up his radio. “Team Two can enter for the search.”

Rory whirled on him. “What the hell? This scene is not secure, and we don’t know this is the suspect.”

New Boy glared at him, chin jutting defiantly. “Nobody else is here.”

Before Rory could countermand the transmission, Team Two entered the front door. “Dammit.” He muttered the curse before raising his voice. “Jessie, we haven’t cleared the house yet. One suspect in custody.”

“Roger that.”

“Scott, you good?”

The other man nodded.

“We need to secure the rest of the house.” He turned on his heel and backtracked—and bumped into Delaney Burns as she stepped into the hallway in front of him. Rory grabbed her to keep her on her feet. The vest did nothing to hide her curves, and he was thankful for the darkness. He knew his face was flushed, but the majority of his blood had rushed south as soon as their bodies made contact.

“Oh.” The sound whispered from her mouth and tickled the skin on his throat.

His breath hitched. He had to concentrate to loosen his grip and step back from her. Every part of him wanted to crush her to his chest. “Sorry.” He growled the apology.

“My fault.” She still sounded breathless. Was it from fear or from his touch? “I should have watched where I was going.”

Fear, then, or at least from being startled. “It’s dark, Doc. Just hang back a little until we get the place secured.”

“Okay.”

He moved away but reluctance made him drag his steps. Rory focused on the job. The only way to still the mad beating of his heart was to secure the house and ensure Delaney’s safety. As they cleared a room, they left a light burning. Rory and Jessie approached the last bedroom. Someone—or something—whimpered from the far side of the bed. Jessie pinned the spot with her flashlight as he brought his weapon to bear.

“Hands where we can see them,” Jessie ordered.

Two little hands appeared, followed by the top of a head and two terrified eyes. A child. Before he could react further, Delaney pushed past him and scurried across the room to the little boy. Rory recognized the click of a bullet jacking into the breach a millisecond before he launched across the room. The bright flash blinded him for a moment and the sharp retort of the shot left his ears ringing. He landed on top of Delaney and took her to the floor.

“He had a gun! He had a gun!” New Boy yelled over and over.

Someone wailed, a terrified scream that undulated like a siren. Delaney lay still beneath him. “Doc?” Rory whispered her name, afraid to breathe, afraid to let his heart beat.

“What happened?”

Adrenaline surged through him. That’s why he shook. Just adrenaline. “Are you okay? You aren’t hurt?”

She squirmed beneath him and his groin liked it. A lot. Embarrassed, he rolled off her and sat up. Delaney followed suit and stared around the room, the whites visible all the way around her warm brown eyes. Someone flipped on the overhead light while people argued out in the hall. The moaning continued, much closer to hand. He followed that sound to find the little kid balled up behind the bed. Delaney started to crawl toward the child but Rory stopped her.

“Even kids have guns in this neighborhood, Doc. Let me.”

He shoved the mattress toward the middle of the room, opening up space between the bed and the wall. The kid, maybe nine or ten, stared at him, his face shiny with tears but quiet now.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you, son. Let me see your hands.” The kid stuck his hands out, and they trembled violently. “Are you hurt?” The boy shook his head. Rory stood and helped the kid to his feet. He patted him down before he allowed Delaney to reach for the boy. The child buried his face against Delaney as she hugged him. Rory took the time to check between the mattresses and under the bed. No weapon.

“I’m telling you, I saw a gun in the kid’s hands. I was just following protocol.” New Boy’s voice climbed into the range of whining.

Rory turned around. The asshole stood just inside the room. Hoss had taken away New Boy’s weapon. In two steps, he reached the knot of people and without stopping to think, he pulled back his fist and nailed New Boy on the jaw with a vicious right jab.

“Protocol? You haven’t been on this team long enough to know what the hell our protocol is, you jackass. And if I have my way, you won’t get the chance.” Rory was so angry the words came out flash frozen, heat replaced by dry ice.

“You…you hit me!” New Boy sounded incredulous, but he’d stopped whining at least.

“I did and if you don’t get your ass out of here right now, I’m liable to hit you again.”

Scott and Jessie slid between them. Jessie placed her palms on Rory’s chest and backed him up. Scott grabbed New Boy and marched him away.

“Ease up, Rory.” Jessie kept her voice low and soothing. “Don’t make it worse.”

He nodded once, a quick, curt dip of his chin. She dropped her hands and turned her attention to Delaney and the boy.

Rory didn’t move. He had to force air into his lungs while he willed the shakes to go away. He didn’t want to check, but he needed to find out just how close that bullet had come to hitting Delaney.

Pivoting, he marched to the wall, looking for the bullet hole. There wasn’t one. He glanced at the tousled covers on the bed. There. In his mind’s eye, he revisited the scene—where the bed was situated before he kicked it aside, where Doc stood before he took her down, where the child huddled, hiding from the scary people wearing black clothes and helmets, and with drawn guns.

Rory glanced over his shoulder at Delaney’s gasp. “What?” She pointed at his back and he tried to see what she pointed at.

“Shit.” Jessie never cussed. He stared at her as she stepped closer and bent over. “You gotta see this, boss.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him over to a dingy mirror hanging above a dresser. She turned him so he could see the ripped cloth along his side.

Ice filled his veins as he stared at his reflection. If he hadn’t reacted— No. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t think about Delaney taking a bullet, about her laying on the floor bleeding. One part of his brain remembered she wore a vest, but that didn’t matter. That bullet had come too damn close. He wanted to punch New Boy all over again. In fact, he wanted to beat him senseless.

Breathe. He had to breathe through the rage. He forced his fists to relax. He forced air deep into his lungs. Breathe. He swallowed and stopped clenching his teeth. Breathe. He turned to watch Delaney as she comforted the frightened boy. Breathe.

“Child Services has been notified. They’re sending a case worker.”

Rory nodded, only vaguely aware of Jessie’s report. His eyes remained fixed on Delaney. Half a second. A centimeter. Breathe. He didn’t want to think about his reaction, about his deep-seated fear for the doc’s safety. None of it made sense. But this woman was as important to him as breathing, as important as his life. He knew it with a certainty he couldn’t explain.

“Can we gather up some of his things?”

Delaney asked the question of Jessie, but he replied. “A few things, Doc. He’ll be at Child Services just until they find a family member to come pick him up.”

She nodded and whispered to the boy. He watched as the child picked out a hoodie, a book, and a grimy, bedraggled stuffed animal. Rory had no clue what the critter had once been. Now it was a dirty gray lump, but the kid clung to it like a lifeline. When they were ready, he escorted Delaney and the boy out to the command post vehicle to wait. He slipped inside the truck and dug around in a box under one of the seats. The box was filled with donated toys the cops could hand out when a child was involved. When he found the stuffed dog he was looking for, he stepped out and located the doc standing next to the open back door of a cruiser.

“His name is Andre,” Delaney said as Rory walked up. “His mother works the night shift at a nursing home, and he stays with his brother.”

Feeling a little stupid, Rory held out the fuzzy dog. The frown lines between Delaney’s eyes melted as she smiled at him. She stepped back to give him room, and he felt even more awkward. With one hand on the top of the police car, he leaned into the backseat.

The boy wiped his nose with the lump of fuzz he clutched to his chest. “What’s gonna happen to my brother? If you take him to jail, I’ll have to stay home alone. Don’t arrest him, ’kay?”

“I wish we didn’t have to, Andre, but he’s done some bad things. Child Services will help your mom.”

The boy gulped and nodded, his big, haunted eyes filling with tears. “That cop tried to shoot me, didn’t he?”

Rory swallowed his anger and inhaled deeply. Several times. “That cop was stupid, Andre. He’ll be dealt with.” The boy noticed the floppy dog he carried, and Rory held it out to him. “Here. I thought you might like this.”

Andre reached for it but didn’t quite touch. His eyes stayed glued on Rory. “To keep?” He sounded so hopeful, Rory’s heart broke a little.

“To keep. He’s yours, if you want him, but you have to give him a name.”

The boy smiled and dimples creased his round cheeks. “Boss. That’s what that lady cop called you.” Andre took the stuffed animal then and folded the dog into his arms, squished in with the lumpy critter.

Rory straightened and his gaze met Delaney’s.

“That was a very nice thing you just did,” she murmured.

Feeling awkward again, he wanted to dig his toe in the dirt and do some stupid “aw shucks” thing. “The kid was scared. And not all cops are bad guys.”

She offered him a tentative smile. “No, not all cops are bad guys. Some of them are heroes, especially in the eyes of an impressionable boy.” She held out her hand. “Let me see.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Let you see what?”

“Your hand. You smacked that officer really hard.”

Rory placed his hand in hers and did his best to ignore the feeling of his skin touching hers. He couldn’t call it an electric shock, but there was a sense of hyper awareness. She explored his fingers and knuckles with gentle probes.

“Be sure to put some ice on it when you get back to the police station.”

He nodded, struck dumb for the moment. She chuckled, almost as if she knew the effect she had on him. Delaney glanced around before she suddenly leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Andre isn’t the only one who thinks you were a hero tonight.”