Page 62 of Locked and Loaded

Dragan's mouth twitched. "I'll remember that next time."

The man shook his head. "There'd better not be a next time."

The two men met halfway across the yard, clasping forearms instead of shaking hands. They were old friends, Lennox surmised, not simply acquaintances. Men who'd trusted each other in places where trust had been expensive.

"You look terrible," the newcomer observed.

"I've looked worse."

The man chuckled. “I was there. You definitely have."

Despite everything that had happened, Lennox felt the corner of her mouth threaten to lift.

The man noticed. "You can call me John,” he said and came over to shake her hand.

She frowned. There was no way this man’s name was John, but she would go with it. “Lennox.”

John gave her a once-over. "Has he handcuffed you yet?" he asked conversationally.

Lennox folded her arms. "As a matter of fact."

John’s gaze slid to Dragan. "I leave you alone for a couple of years..."

"It seemed necessary."

John shook his head. "It never is."

"It was this time."

The newcomer laughed and disappeared briefly into the warehouse before returning with a key fob. He tossed it toward Dragan. Dragan caught it one-handed.

"Diesel SUV. Full tank. Cash is in the console. Two burner phones are in the glove compartment."

"You still overprepare," Dragan observed.

"You still get shot."

Dragan glanced at the blood running down his sleeve. "Occupational hazard."

John shook his head. "No. Being shot repeatedly is a hobby." He looked at Lennox again. "You sure he's worth all this trouble?"

She looked sideways at Dragan before answering. "The jury's still out."

The man barked out a laugh. "I like her."

"So does everybody," Dragan muttered.

Lennox wasn't entirely sure whether he was joking.

The man caught sight of the blood dripping from Dragan's fingertips. "Inside."

"I'm fine."

John crossed his arms over his chest. "You're bleeding on my driveway."

"It'll wash," Dragan argued.

"Inside."