His thumb stroked her wrist as he placed the gun into her open palm. It was as much as she would get out of him right then. As quickly as they'd come in, he was out her office door, and she was alone. Raising the weapon in one hand, she used the other to switch on a television screen that showed the footage from each security camera stationed around GUNS.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

Once Jared had stashed Sugar safely inside her office, he ducked down the hall to go back outside. Each security camera he passed pivoted, following his motions. Sugar had her eyes on him, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. She knew what Titan did. But she didn't need to see it. He would do whatever it took to eradicate anything dangerous to his world. And Sugar was his world. If that meant tearing apart Buck Baer, bare-knuckled and blood-flying, that's what he would do.

Occasional chatter crossed his earpiece-check-ins and status updates. Jared had plans for Buck Baer. Whatever Baer thought he was showing up for, they'd both agreed that this was their last stand. More formal than the usual Titan throw-downs, this one would be very different from the battles he waged against the usual sickos just to earn a paycheck. This would be nothing less than a duel.

He pictured Sugar's logo. Pink dueling pistols. How appropriate. A blacked-out Explorer pulled into GUNS as he pushed through the heavy front door and moved into position. Baer had made it with seconds to spare.

Parker's voice carried into his earpiece. "We have movement on GSI's perimeter positions."

"Shift. Stay on your targets," Rocco followed.

Confirmations came through. Brock's voice grated on Jared's nerves. As Delta Team checked in, Jared took a second to mentally commend Rocco for taking initiative. Delta Team was a good move. They were an arm of Titan that Jared let handle the grayer-meets-invisible ops. Titan had as many on-the-books assignments as they did off-the-books assignments. Delta Team had non-existent assignments. Titan versus GSI ranked as non-existent.

Under Jared's watchful eye, Baer's door cracked, and he emerged better suited for a business meeting than a field standoff. While bullets weren't flying and a chopper wasn't hovering, Jared could tell Baer had softened. The corrupt jerk might like a dirty fight, but he hadn't been the one pulling the trigger.

Jared's trigger finger was well practiced. His palm tingled as it hovered over his holster, ready to draw a weapon like a Wild West cowboy itching for a high-noon standoff.

A familiar feeling crawled down his back-an awareness that this showdown equated to more than finishing a job. Every job up to that point had helped or hindered someone else. His clients. Their victims. His marks. Their enemy.

This time, it was all about him.

He took a step forward, into the parking lot. Baer did the same. They didn't pass along pretend pleasantries.

No games. No small talk.

It was the end of their decades-long battle.

Both men locked eyes and readied to kill. Their dance continued, each sizing up prey to be slaughtered, taking slow steps forward. Each tactical-booted footfall crunched on tiny rocks. Jared's confidence made his lungs cool, refreshed. Easy breezy breathing. He readied his body and his mind as though he'd been preparing his whole life for- Hell. A light-silver Volvo station wagon pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop in the middle of their standoff.

Remaining in place, Jared willed the car to pull out of the parking lot. It didn't, and his concern escalated when he glanced past the idling car toward his enemy. Baer was never interested in the well-being of the innocent. Women and children didn't garner any special treatment from GSI. Cases in point, Sugar, Asal, and Brock's family.

Adding as much menace and forewarning as he could manage in three words, Jared hollered as a woman stepped out, "GUNS is closed."

She kept her head down, unperturbed and not noticing Baer behind her. Then she leaned into her station wagon and... didn't get back in. Instead, she emerged with a purse the size of a Humvee and a hat pulled over her hair.

Is that...? Nah. She looked like Brock's wife, but that wouldn't make sense. Either way, she didn't look like the women who frequented GUNS. Those ladies defined "rowdy." One of those ladies would crack a beer bottle on a dude's head if he gave her the wrong pick-up line.

Volvo lady wasn't one of those ladies. She was in the wrong place and couldn't have picked a worse time. But damn if she didn't look like Sarah Gamble. If only she would look up.

Baer took another step forward, craning his neck to inspect the woman. Fuck. Buck Baer blowing away a random bystander wasn't in the game plan, and Jared wasn't in a position to handle a hostage.

"Closed?" Volvo lady asked, fiddling in her monster bag. Her voice shook, and Jared had a bad feeling. "I'm here to see Sugar."

"She's not here. Time to go." Get your ass in the car and leave.

One hand still lost in her purse and the other on her hip, she glanced up, her face unmistakable. Sarah Gamble.

"And why are you telling me and not Sugar?"

"I'm trying to save your life. Go home to Mayberry." Jared kept eyes on Baer in the periphery while he studied the back of Sarah's floppy hat. Baer wasn't stupid. If he hadn't figured out who she was, he might recognize Sarah's voice.

Rocco barked in Jared's ear. "Brock, hold your position."

"Sarah," Baer's slick voice slithered across Jared's skin.

Her head snapped to look over her shoulder. Her petite frame pivoted, partially obscured from Baer's line of sight by her station wagon.

Fuck.

"Goddamn it, Sugar's on the move," Rocco growled. "Winters, get in there and hold her ass down if you have to."

If she was watching the security feed, she had surely seen Sarah roll up. Only a titanium will kept Jared's head trained forward, to avoid alerting Baer before Sugar burst through the front door.

"Sarah." Jared took a step forward, his hand on his holstered Glock. "Get in your car and leave. Now's a bad time, sweetheart."

She looked from Jared to Buck, then back again. The woman had been abducted, her kids had been endangered, and only the Lord knew what she thought about Brock. She needed a Xanax far more than she needed to confront two men who were about to duel.

Jared pressed her. "Everything's all right. But you have to go."

She took off her sunglasses, squinting despite the dull early evening light. "You're going to kill Brock, my husband, if you haven't already."

"Where the fuck is Sugar?" Winters barked in his earpiece.

Damn it. I should've tied Sugar to the bed at home. He took a breath, controlled his heartbeat, and swallowed his emotion. "Wrong, Sarah. He's here. Alive. With me. Everything's all good, except you need to go."

Her purse slid down her shoulder and left her tiny hand exposed, wrapped around a .38 special. An instant tightness strangled his lungs. The only thing worse than a woman scorned was a woman hell-bent on revenge.

"I need to talk to Sugar. She's the only one I trust."

The wrought-iron security door at GUNS' front entrance slammed open. "Sarah, I'm here." Sugar sashayed into the parking lot as if the mess unfolding there was just two chicks chatting. "The boys have business, so you have to go. We'll catch up soon. Promise."

"Is Brock alive?"

"He would've been if you'd stayed with me." Baer cackled. "Now, Sugar, I've been looking for you, pretty lady."

Sarah spun toward Baer, the .38 held outstretched in an unsteady grip. "I hate you. You've ruined our lives."

Baer laughed again. Nothing good was unfolding. Sarah didn't need to be antagonized. She needed a swift kick toward calm-the-hell-down alley.

"Sugar, get inside. Sarah, get out of-"

Faster than Jared expected, Baer pulled his sidearm and trained it on Sugar. A half-ton tanker could've landed on Jared's chest, and it would've been lighter than the weight crushing him. On instinct, he had his Glock in hand. His heart thumped. His mouth went dry. A lifetime's worth of training and discipline skittered into the breeze as he watched a sadistic smile pull Baer's cheeks back and make his eyes shine.

Sarah was in Jared's kill-shot line of fire. This was all a game. Maybe Baer didn't have the balls to take out Sugar. Maybe he wanted Jared to suffer, to know that he could've saved his woman if he'd taken out Brock's wife.

A shot rang out. Sugar hit the ground as Jared dove toward her. Sarah screamed. Spinning. Falling. Someone cursed. Another shot fired in the background, and he crawled the remaining distance to cover Sugar's body. There was blood. Lots of it.

He ran his hands ran through her hair. Checked her face and her skull. Ran down her neck. So much goddamn blood.

Rocco's orders carried in his ear. Another scream followed another shot. Jared scooped Sugar against his chest. Her harsh voice didn't make sense as he hustled across the open space toward the front door of GUNS.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Roman swoop in and head toward Sarah. None of that mattered. Jared had to secure Sugar. He wanted the kill shot on Baer, but more than that, he needed Sugar alive and in his arms. His head was spinning. There was just too much blood.

"Jared!" Sugar took a panicked breath. Her eyes reached past him. "Help me!"

Maybe the bullet hit her chest? Fuck, not good. Inside GUNS, he lifted her onto a table, searching with his eyes and fingers for the entry wound.

"Goddamn it, Jared," she screamed. "Listen to me!"

Her fists wrapped his collar. Sugar yanked him within inches of her eyes. All that blood on Sugar. It matted her dark hair to her cheeks and painted sickening streaks across her pale skin. He couldn't handle life without her. It made his body hurt. His mind ache. His world spin.

And then his world spun.

He and Sugar fell off the table, the weight of her body pulling him down into a pile of exhaustion. He paused, staring and studying the woman he would sacrifice his life for.

"I'm not shot." Again, she was in his face. "You were, goddamn it."

White-hot pain seared his neck. Realizing he'd been shot was less shocking than her being uninjured. The blood wasn't hers. She was okay. Everything was okay. Sugar wasn't shot. Thank the fucking Lord.

His terror dissipated, and his adrenaline drained away with it. Pain in his neck and numbness in his extremities hit him at the same time. Getting shot sucked. He'd done it more than he'd liked. But this time... this time... was different.

"I love you," he mumbled. His lips tingled. He tasted salt and metal. He smelled the blood. "Lilly Chase." Her name sounded too pretty to not say it.

"Stay with me, J-dawg." Sugar cupped his face. Her fingers were gentle and wet with his blood.

"Lilly... Chase." His words were slurred. Such a pretty name. He couldn't look away. Sugar'd been sexy. She'd been tough. But he never stopped and stared. Listened to her speak. Said her name. "I love you."

That was what he wanted to say, especially if they were his last words.

Tears ran down her face. Still she was so... pretty. That was the only word he could think of. He wasn't totally sure what she'd said, but if she kept talking just like that, he could close his eyes, and it would all be okay.

Jared listened, felt, and knew. He'd finally found life, but it was fading.

Sugar wrapped around him. He just knew it. He couldn't feel it... and he so badly wanted to feel her. A touch. Her warmth. But... nothing.

The voices of his team clamored in his earpiece, tickling his eardrum. Their words held no meaning. Somehow, his strength and coordination flickered back, but only long enough to pull the earbud out of his ear, and then his arm fell limp. He sucked a staggered breath, completely unable to help himself... or to take his eyes off Sugar.

Horrified, she screamed for help. For him. For...

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

All Sugar could do was cry. Her shoulders shook. Her eyes burned. She could barely hold them open because the scene was too horrific to commit to memory. But she couldn't close them, either. They were too raw, and shutting her eyes did nothing to erase the haunting blood and lifelessness on the ambulance gurney.

The sirens served only as screeching background music as the ambulance flew down the highway. The EMTs worked around Sugar while she clutched Jared's limp hand, kneading his lifeless fingers, and let tears fall down her face in stricken silence.

Bloody gauze and beeping machines kept the technicians busy, but nothing they did offered much hope. A medic in the front seat was on a radio, giving status updates to the emergency room and talking in codes Sugar didn't understand. But she knew each one transmitted was graver than the last.

It was in their tone. Their glances. The sympathetic looks sadly said they would be surprised if he pulled through.

Goddamn Jared. Damn him for loving her. Damn her for ever leaving his side, ever testing the boundaries of how far she could push him. Damn her screwed-up fears of love and relationships. If not for those mental hiccups, she would've had that much more time with him. She was prepared to barter with the devil for just long enough to nod yes to Jared's marriage proposal and declare that her love ran just as deeply and was just as strong as his.

She was a moron-a pathetic, scared moron.

Why had she stuttered? Why had she ever questioned... him? Them? Anything? She'd been cowardly and selfish. Self-preservation had been more important than the man who had stood before her, more than once, and told her how it would be. Him and her. Forever.

However long forever lasted. The slow beeps and the high-pitched alarms sounding around her announced that the grains of sand in the forever hourglass were settling at the bottom.

The sirens died. The vehicle came to a sudden halt, then the driver floored it in reverse. Before the driver had parked, the back doors flew open, and medical personnel rushed in.

A man crawled over Jared, unhooking wires and continuing to work on him while others unlatched the gurney and pulled it free. Sugar pulled her hand from Jared's, and a woman placed it across his chest without looking up.

Off he went, with his medical team working hard. No one had asked her to follow. Sugar watched his tethered body lie unresponsive, and she remained frozen in the back of the ambulance. She couldn't swallow the grenade-sized bulge in her throat. Tears came harder and faster, until she dropped to her knees amid discarded bandages and empty sterile package wrappers. Sugar held her shaking hands in front of herself. She squeezed her fingers together tightly and then turned over her dark-crimson-dyed palms. The vivid creases and lines in her skin were sketched by Jared's dried blood. She remembered years ago watching her mother study her palm.

A short love line and a long life line. That's exactly what you want. Long term-love isn't worth it, Lilly. It doesn't exist. That's the lesson I hope you take from me. Fall in love, and one day, you'll be me. Years drowning in a marriage, wishing to hell you hadn't done something so stupid. Men never stay true, and neither should you.

Sugar traced the lines on her palms, crying until her vision blurred and burned again. Her mother was wrong. Jared would've stayed by her side. And God help her, she never would have regretted a lifetime of moments with him.

Don't ever give your heart away.

"No," she moaned, because she already had given it away, and losing her heart to Jared was the best and worst decision of her life.

Hell, it wasn't a decision. And he wasn't dead... yet.

"Get it together, Sugar." She jumped to her feet and threw open the ambulance's cabinets and drawers. Tossing packages and wrappers around her, she searched and searched and searched. Alcohol swabs. She grabbed a handful and tore open the tiny packets. They were of little use, but she scrubbed clean her love line and her life line. The tiny squares dried quickly as they rouged, and she let them hit the floor, opening more packets, repeating the process of ridding her palms of the dark shading.

It wasn't working, and she didn't care if his blood coated her hands. Jared was alive. He would stay alive. Titan had access to the best doctors in the country, and Jared Westin, the master of the universe, wasn't going to die on an operation table.

Sugar spun to the ajar ambulance doors, then jumped out to the parking lot. The heels of her boots hit the ground, sending jolts of pain up her calves. For the first time in an hour, she felt something besides despair. Physical pain. And she would take that over the blanket of anguish.

No one else was around, and the ambulance entrance didn't offer much in the way of customer service options, just busy people who didn't notice her. She checked curtained rooms and looked down hallways, but didn't see Jared. A sign pointed her toward the emergency room lobby, and she pushed through doors until she found the triage desk. She marched to the front of the long line of waiting people.

"Jared Westin. Where is he?"

The nurses behind the desk dropped their jaws. She caught her reflection in the Plexiglas dividing wall. The dried blood covering her face was streaked with tears, and her hair was matted against her cheeks. She turned to see the people standing in line shuffle away.