He looked over at her chair. Empty. Fuck.

He jumped up and looked around the room. She wasn’t hard to spot, trolling the room, looking around for her contact. Xander had an eye on her, but Pimphead Warbucks was a lover, not a fighter. Tyler doubted he would be able to save Del if she needed help.

Throwing his chair aside, he stormed after her, catching up to her mid-aisle. He grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for Esteban.” She wrenched free of his grip and crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to look his way.

Tyler gritted his teeth. “It’s not safe or smart for you to do that alone.”

“You were occupied.”

“I didn’t invite her to dance on my lap.”

Del rolled her eyes. “From what I saw, you weren’t trying terribly hard to make her leave.”

Tyler’s ire rose. “Xander pulled that shit on me.”

“I know.” She kept strolling, looking everywhere but at him.

“I paid her to go! Seriously?” He planted himself in front of her. “You’re going to be mad because a woman I didn’t want danced on my lap?”

Del stopped, pondered. “I think I have to. I didn’t pay much attention to the other women around Eric when we were married. I thought he loved me, and their attraction was one-sided. So I let it slide. But after a while, a healthy twentysomething man not having sex with his wife for months . . . I can’t prove that he cheated on me, but—”

“He did,” Tyler admitted.

Fidelity would always be a concern of hers if he didn’t come absolutely clean. Now wasn’t the best time, but Esteban was looking like a no-show, and putting this off only left Del with a festering wound. As soon as everything was out in the open, he could reassure her that he wasn’t the same guy he used to be—and he definitely wasn’t Eric.

She sucked in a stunned breath, looking pale, as if the truth had flattened her. But she didn’t deserve more lies. In for a penny, in for a pound . . .

“I was seeing this one girl in particular. We didn’t have anything special, just a good time. But then I realized that Eric was . . . with her, too.”

“Destiny.” Del’s face closed off.

He hated like hell to hurt her. “Yeah. She wasn’t the only one.”

“Damn it!” she exploded. “I knew it. Deep down, I knew it and didn’t confront him.”

Some of the patrons turned her way. Attracting attention wasn’t a good idea, and he had a feeling that Del was too overwrought to hold all her fury in. When he tried to take her hand to lead her outside, she wrenched it away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Tyler scowled. “I’m not Eric, Del. I didn’t lie. I didn’t cheat on you. I never would.”

“You fucked every girl who moved, even after having sex with me. And you, one of my best friends, didn’t tell me that my husband was being unfaithful. Why? Because it didn’t occur to you that it was an issue? I’m leaving.”

She stalked off, forcing Tyler to follow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Xander frowning, then beating feet to the door. He could accuse the bastard of a lot of things. Thankfully, being stupid wasn’t one of them.

Xander pushed outside first. Del followed, shoving the big red portal out of her way, leaving it to fly in Tyler’s face. With a curse, he slammed it against the wall and jogged until he caught up with her. “Think about what you’re doing. You’re supposed to be meeting a contact who will give you information you need to make all this danger go away.”

She stomped her pretty Christian Louboutin pumps onto his toes, and he reared back, clutching his injured digits with one hand and glaring at her. “What the hell?”

“You think I don’t know that? Esteban is now thirty minutes late. I doubt he’s coming.” She pulled out her cell phone, punched a few buttons on her prepaid cell, and shoved it up to her ear.

“Del . . .”

She turned her back on him.

A long minute later, she stabbed a finger at the buttons again and pocketed the phone. “He’s not answering. Maybe he’s spooked. Or in the middle of a big deal. I don’t know. I’ll call him again tomorrow. All I know is that right now, I want to get in bed and sleep. Alone.”

“Goddamn it, Del!” He turned her to face him again, ready to have it out.

Xander whacked him between the shoulders. “As entertaining as this little lovers’ quarrel is, I think we’re being watched. I’ve got a bad feeling. If this contact didn’t show, maybe someone else will appear in his place—and it might be one of the bad guys.”

That possibility washed over Tyler in a cold surge. He’d been too fucking tied up in his own drama to keep his head clear. As soon as he realized his mistake, he heard a gunshot out of nowhere whiz right between him and Del and strike the building. Stucco kicked up, then crumbled onto the sidewalk. They all ran, and Tyler drew his weapon, hoping like hell that they all made it to the car alive.

***

DEL could literally feel her legs shaking out from under her as she sprinted around the side of the club toward Xander’s car. Tyler popped off a few shots back. The men flanked her, ready to pick her up or help her, but she was determined not to be a detriment in platforms, no matter how pretty. Hard not to be scared as hell as more bullets whizzed past, coming dangerously close.

Shooters started coming from the opposite direction on foot, too. Somewhere in the dark parking lot, there were dangerous men with guns, intent on killing her.

She, Tyler, and Xander were all creeping low, ducking bullets, dodging shooters in between cars. Del’s heart pounded; terror ate at her. She hoped like hell that she got back to Seth alive. Beside her, Tyler reached out and grabbed her hand, as if telling her to hang on. As if underscoring that he was there for her.

She should be blazingly pissed at him now for keeping Eric’s infidelity from her for all these years. But right now was about life or death.

Del squeezed his hand in return.

A few feet from the car, Xander deactivated the locks. The alarm chirped and the lights flashed. The shooters immediately darted closer; Del could hear their footsteps pounding against the pavement. It was going to be a footrace to the car to see who got there first—and if anyone died.

Tyler reached the car first, opening the back door as he shot at the gunmen, then all but threw Del inside. As Xander dove into the front seat and started the car with a button, Tyler scrambled in, covering her body with his own.

“Go!” he shouted to Xander.

But the other man was already peeling out of the parking lot with a ripe curse. “What the fuck happened?”

Del’s heart beat so hard she felt sure it would fall out of her chest. She’d barely caught her breath when she heard Tyler say, “Somehow, Carlson must have figured out where we were going to be. Maybe Esteban was a setup.”

“Maybe. But why not send thugs into the club?” she asked, pushing Tyler off of her.

He eased away reluctantly. “Too visible?”

Xander sped down the mostly deserted streets and nodded. “If he’s up for appointment as the DA, even temporarily, he has to keep his nose reasonably clean. Everyone is going over his records with a fine-tooth comb right now. He must know that you don’t have enough hard evidence now or you’d have already written your story. It’s possible he’s trying to scare you off more than kill you.”

“I doubt it,” Tyler disagreed. “Those were real bullets.”

“In this neighborhood . . .” Xander trailed off. “It wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows.”

“Agreed. But if Carlson was behind this, and they’d managed to kill us, we wouldn’t have been the first innocent bystanders to become victim to seeming gang violence. It would have been tragic, but not unheard of. And not worth much of an investigation. If they’d gone into the club and caused a scene, it could have raised a red flag, especially if there had been lots of collateral damage.” Tyler cursed, clearly not liking it.

“I’ll have to track Lobato Loco down again and feel him out. Maybe it wasn’t a setup. Maybe something spooked him.” Or he was dead. But Del hated to think about that. Not only did she not want someone else dying for this story, she had no leads if this homey bit the dust.

Damn, it was cold in here. She trembled, gathering her arms around her, huddling to keep warm. Tyler was right there, arms around her.

“Del?”

She shook her head and pushed him away. “I’m fine.”

He refused to be put off. “You’re having trouble coming down from the adrenaline.”

Yes, and he knew the signs. “I’ll be fine.”

He put his arms around her again and stubbornly stayed. It felt too good to push him away.

Within moments, Xander dropped them off at his lovely “little place” in the hills and helped them into the house. “Damn, there went that car.”

“Something happen to it?”

“If Carlson’s goons didn’t identify me, they can identify a new Audi with temporary plates. And I just bought it today.” He sighed glumly.

“It’s a car,” she pointed out. “You were shot at. All things considered, wouldn’t you rather save your ass than worry about a car?”

“Yeah,” he conceded. “To be safe, I should swap out.”

Del frowned as she watched him jog back to the Audi. Suddenly, the garage door opened, and he pulled the car inside. Thirty seconds later, he backed a red Mercedes convertible out, window rolled down.

“Much better. Now I can get home without worrying about being pulled over and questioned. Besides, this is a sweet ride, too.”

You think? Del sighed. Some poor woman someday would have her hands full with Xander.

“What if security or traffic cameras picked you up, and the police come to your door?” Tyler asked.

Xander raised a brow. “I dare them to try to arrest me or hold me for questioning. Carlson might be dirty, but he’s not stupid. He knows I can call a press conference faster than he can spit. It would be a PR nightmare.”

Tyler nodded, and Del agreed. Carlson was smart enough to leave Xander alone.

“You leaving?” Tyler shoved his thumbs through his belt loops and stared.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t turn my back on Javier for too long. Call me if anything develops.”

With those words and a jaunty wave, Xander burned rubber out of the driveway and sped down the private road.

Tyler shut the door, and the evening rushed back to Del. What the hell had gone wrong? She turned it over and over in her head, trying to understand how Carlson could have traced her through Lobato Loco if the gangster hadn’t sold her out. Their only common point was one phone call. She took out her cell phone, stared.

And a cold wave of suspicion crashed over her. She dropped the phone onto the coffee table with a gasp.

“What?” Tyler demanded, running over to her.

“I think I know how Carlson tracked us down, but now I’m worried.”

Tyler frowned, thoughts turning, then suspicion narrowed his eyes. “You called Lisa with this phone before her murder.”

“Yes. If they got this number, they could trace who else I’ve called, including Lobato Loco.”

She turned up to him with a lost stare. She was a fluff reporter, for God’s sake. All this subterfuge and danger was over her head. She didn’t know how to cope, how to compensate. What the hell was she supposed to do?

“Before Lisa’s murder. I—I don’t remember who else I’ve called with this phone. What if I called someone in Lafayette and—”

“Relax. You haven’t.” He grabbed the phone and looked back through her call history. “All clean. We just need to ditch the phone.”

She gave him a shaky nod. “I’m scared. Really scared.”

“I know.” Tyler leveled a grave stare at her. “When you started this investigation, did you know you’d be starting a shit storm?”

“Not really. I thought I’d fly under the radar. I never believed he’d really take me this seriously. I write about baby showers and dog shows. I had no real proof, just a supposition based on a conversation I overheard.”

“You must be damn close to the truth. And you work for the most important paper in his city, angel.” Tyler sighed. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight. Let’s just . . . try to unwind. We need to go to bed.”

He was right; it was late. Her fear warred with her anger. He could not only keep her safe but make her feel safe. Del always felt protected in his presence. But damn it, he’d kept the knowledge of Eric’s indiscretions a secret. She was furious and wondered what the hell else he’d keep from her in the future if she let him. It might not be rational, but that was how she felt.

“I know. But I want space. Can you just . . . let me spend some time alone for a while?”