Page 30 of Locked and Loaded

"Okay," she said. "We're clear. Now you're going to tell me everything you know about my sister."

"Fair,” he agreed, but this really wasn’t the time or place. He’d been steering Lennox in the direction he wanted without her realizing it, and now they were maybe ten minutes away from his safe house. He needed her to move just a bit further, until they were clear. Then he would answer her questions as well as ask a whole bunch more.

She propped her hands on her hips. "And then I'm going to walk away, and you're going to let me."

He bit back a sigh. Only a little bit further. He’d been hoping to avoid this. "Not going to happen."

She glared at him. "I didn't ask."

"I know. But here's the thing." Dragan stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. There wasn't enough room beneath the arch for both of them without invading the other's space. He saw the moment she realized it because her breathing changed almost imperceptibly. She didn't back away. Neither did he.

"Someone tried to kill you earlier today. Tonight, they sent two more men to your hotel. A hotel you just checked into. You don't know who they are, you don't know why they're after you. You walk away from me right now, you're dead by morning. And your sister stays missing. End of story."

Lennox glared at him. "I've been taking care of myself for a long time."

"I can see that. You're good." He meant it. "But you're not good enough to fight an organization you don't understand in a city you don't know while someone's actively hunting you. Nobody is."

Her jaw was tight. The distant sound of a motorbike came and went. The generator hummed on.

"Fine," she said. "Get us someplace safe. Then we talk."

He nodded. "This way. I know a place near the Jemaa."

He turned to lead, already mapping the route in his head; left at the next corner, follow the wall, cross the square with the fig trees, and then the safe house was just a few blocks beyond that.

Behind him, he heard her shoes scrape on the stone.

Not following him, but receding away.

Dragan spun. Lennox was already moving, fast and low, making a break for the shadowed arch on the far side of the street. She was quick. She was smart. She had probably been planning the escape route the whole time they'd been walking.

She just wasn't fast enough.

He caught her in four strides, his hand closing around her wrist. She twisted, trying to break the grip, but he'd expected that. The handcuffs came out of his back pocket, an old habit from his misspent youth, one he'd never broken and never regretted. Handcuffs had come in handy more times than he could count.

The first cuff clicked shut around her right wrist before she could yank her arm free. The second snapped around his own left wrist before she had time to react.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. He'd closed the distance because it had been the quickest way to stop her, nothing more, yet now he was acutely aware of her. The determination burning in her eyes. The quick rise and fall of her breathing. Her stubborn refusal to back down, even with steel linking them together. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met, and the realization was as poorly timed as it was unwelcome.

Lennox looked down at the cuffs, then up at him. She pulled as if to test them but just ended up pulling them closer together. She blinked up at him and then immediately backed away. If looks were lethal, he'd be a corpse in the gutter. "Handcuffs? Are you fucking serious? You carry handcuffs. Are you a cop?”

"Old habit. But hardly a cop. More of a robber.” His lips curled into a smile of their own accord. He'd handcuffed plenty of people over the years. None of them had smelled faintly of citrus and sunscreen.

“Let me go,” she snarled. Again, she pulled against the cuff, like she was testing it once more, but keeping herself well away from him. The chain pulled taut away from his wrist. It was good steel. It didn't give.

"This is kidnapping." She glared at him with enough fury to level buildings.

He should have been thinking about safe houses, escape routes, and the armed men somewhere behind them. Instead, he found himself wondering whether she looked like that all the time when she argued. The thought was so spectacularly ill-timed that he dismissed it immediately.

"This is keeping you alive until you're smart enough to stay that way on your own." He met her eyes and held them. "You want to find your sister. I want to help you do that. But I can't help you help her if you're dead. And you will be, if you keep running. So, here's the deal. We go together until I'm satisfied that you're safe. After that, you can hate me from whatever distance you want."

Lennox stared at him, mouth agape, as if to argue. Then she clamped her lips shut with a click of her teeth. The street was quiet around them, the walls dark, the strip of stars overhead pale and indifferent. She was weighing her options, and he could see her coming up short.

"You're going to regret this," she hissed.

"Probably,” he agreed amicably. “Let's go."

He started walking. After a slight tug on her wrist, so did she. Their footsteps fell into an awkward rhythm as they adjusted to the chain between them. The cuffs were cold against his skin, and the weight of her arm pulled at his with every other step.