Page 50 of Under Fire

As if she felt someone staring at her, she looked his way. Their gazes locked and held, way too long, and at that moment, he knew. Hell, he didn’t like it, but he knew. Shit, he was the one who should be fighting the emotions he was feeling. He had every reason to. But he couldn’t. From the way she was looking back at him, he figured she was feeling those same emotions. The difference was, where he would admit to them, she wouldn’t. Not this alpha woman.

Locke decided that he would have to worry about that later. “What the hell happened here?” he asked, in a voice raised to a volume that got everybody’s attention. The room got quiet, and everyone turned to stare at him.

“She attacked us!” one of the young men yelled.

He watched as Hollis pushed her chair back, stood, leaned with palms on her table, within reach of Charlie, and yelled back. “You were in my house, and the three of you jumped me. I am a fifth-degree black belt. You better be glad I didn’t kill you.”

“There were three?” Locke asked, looking around.

One of the detectives answered. “The third one is in the backyard getting medical treatment. Her shot grazed him in…” He cleared his throat and then added, “the buttocks.”

“An intentional hit,” she snapped. “I’m also a marksman and could have used Charlie to shoot the balls off all three of you pansies and maimed you for life.”

The room got quiet. Locke knew she wasn’t bluffing. He figured the others did, too. Any woman who was a fifth-degree black belt, admitted to being a marksman, and called her gun by name was not one to mess with. Too bad, these guys found out a little too late.

He crossed the room and stood beside her. And he wasn’t sure she was even aware that she leaned a little toward him. Not for strength because she was strong. Not for courage because he doubted she was afraid of anything. But he figured it was because she appreciated that he was there.

“That guy paid us to do it,” the second guy yelled. “He said all we had to do was rough you up a little. He didn’t tell us you were a woman raised by a pack of wolves.”

“A pack of wolves?” she barked back, her voice sharp with offense. “I was raised by my parents, my brother Derek, and Malik,” she yelled back.

“Did someone say my name?”

Locke glanced at the man, a heavily muscled giant, an imposing powerhouse, massive and solid, who stepped into the room.

“Malik! What are you doing here? You fly out tonight.”

Instead of answering, he looked at Hollis and took in her appearance. Then he gave Locke a cursory nod before turning his full attention to the two battered men in the room. “What do you mean someone paid you to rough her up?”

“We’re the ones who will ask the questions,” the other detective spoke up to say.

Malik ignored him and asked the guy, “Who paid you?”

“We don’t know his name. He gave us five hundred dollars each.”

“Was it worth it? Getting your asses kicked by a girl?” Malik asked.

“I’m a woman and not a girl. And how did you know what happened here tonight?” Hollis asked in an irritated voice.

Malik looked at her. “Your security company called.”

“Hey, look, you,” the first detective said, obviously trying to regain control of the situation. “You’re interrupting our investigation.”

Malik glared at the man who was smart enough to take a step back. “My name is not You. It’s Malik.”

“Well, Malik, we need to finish taking statements. So if you don’t mind, please leave for a few moments.”

Malik nodded and then looked at Locke. “Let’s talk while they finish this police business.”

Locke nodded and followed the man ─ who seemed to know his way around Hollis’ house ─ to another room in the back. The one he figured she used as an office. She was right. It was small.

“It bothers me whenever I come here. I don’t understand how she can live here,” Malik said.

Locke raised a brow at the man’s statement. “Why?”

“This used to be Derek’s home. He left it to her in his will. This house contains too many memories.” The man then extended his hand. “I’m Malik Balmore. I was Derek’s best friend.”

Locke shook the man’s hand, surprised by the friendly gesture. “And I’m Locke Dangerfield.”