Was he nuts?

“You will not, under any circumstances, second-guess an order from me.”

“No, I won’t.” She exhaled a deep breath, then another, before finding her grit. “But we already discussed this, if you’ll recall. Nasty orders aren’t necessary. I can follow directions just fine.”

His brow went up. “And yet, you still haven’t gone to change your clothes.”

She ignored that. “I can be ready in fifteen minutes if you and Trace want to finalize your plans.”

His mouth flattened—until she went on tiptoe to kiss him. “I trust you, Jackson. It’ll be fine.”

And with that parting shot, she walked away from him.

Inside, she shook in fear. For Jackson to be so over-the-top outrageous in his attitude, the situation had to be treacherous.

But she wanted, needed, for him to know that she could handle it. She could handle him and what he did for a living. Dare’s wife, Molly, was strong. Trace’s wife, Priss, was even more so.

She needed to measure up, or give up—on herself, on Jackson, on a future together. But she loved him, so giving up was not an option.

That meant she had to make this work, and one way or another, she would.

THE TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL, made in terse silence, left Alani strained. She wished Jackson would reassure her, but in full-defense mode, he spent his time scanning the area…and thinking.

She didn’t want to interrupt his vigilance, but the silence left her so edgy, she couldn’t relax.

“Dare is already at the hospital?”

“Stationed somewhere outside at a vantage point, to ensure we get in and out safely. He hasn’t spotted anything or anyone yet, or he’d have told me.”

The silence droned on again. Alani cleared her throat. “And Trace is inside?”

“Doing surveillance on the area, making sure Tobin’s room isn’t being watched by anyone but him.” Jackson glanced at her. “Do as I say and you’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t worrying,” she lied. “Just…curious.”

“If you say so.” He flexed his hands on the wheel. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. As we go in, stay to my left, a step behind me. Don’t look around. It gives away too much.”

“Will you be armed?”

“Yeah, but not the way you think. Don’t worry about it.”

His insistence that she was worried bugged her. “I’ve never done this before. I want to know what to expect.”

“You don’t need to know. Just do—”

“As you say. I know.” She sat back in her seat, wanting to ask more questions but deciding against it. The last thing he needed was for her to distract him. “Am I going into the room with you, or waiting in the hall?”

“In the room.” He pushed the file toward her. “And now that you mention it, you ought to take a look at Tobin’s photo beforehand. He’s a mess, and I don’t want you to be…surprised.”

She stared at the file with uneasy curiosity. She wasn’t one to faint at the sight of blood, but she’d never seen anyone really hurt, especially not someone she used to care about.

“The photo is held on the folder with a paperclip. Right there in the front.” Since she hesitated, Jackson flipped it open himself. “I can tell you from experience that it always looks worse than it is, especially with head wounds.”

Dear God. Among notes and printouts, the snapshot of Marc jumped out at her. If Jackson hadn’t told her it was Marc, she’d never have recognized him. One eye was swollen, black and purple and red. The other had a bandage over it. His entire face sported bruises and stitches, with his nose, jaw and chin grotesquely misshapen.

At her horrified silence, Jackson reached for her hand, gave her a squeeze, then released her again. “Trace says he can talk, but it’s not easy with a broken jaw and nose. His eye is bandaged for a fractured eye socket. Nothing that won’t heal, if he can steer clear of more trouble.”

“And that’s where you come in?”

“That’s his plan.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Depends on what he has to tell me.” Jackson brooked no argument when he said, “If he set you up, if he had anything to do with your kidnapping, he’s a dead man.”

That thought hadn’t even occurred to her! “What if he was just after you?”

He gave her a sideways glance. “There’s no telling how he’s involved, so let’s not borrow trouble.”

“Or anticipate murder?”

“I’m prepared for anything. Get used to it.”

Another order?

He pulled into the hospital lot and parked a good distance from the main entrance. She started to look around, but he caught her chin. “Don’t. If anyone is watching, I don’t want to tip our hand.”

The idea that anyone could see them now made her skin crawl. How did he do this job? “You want them to think you’re unaware of the possible danger?”

Derision showed in a crooked smile. “I don’t want them to think I’m stupid.” He opened his seat belt and then hers. “But thinking I’m cocky, that I trust Tobin, that’d be a plus. It’d give me the upper hand.” He opened his door. “Stay put until I come around.”

With reflective sunglasses in place, Jackson circled the hood to open her door. Alani stepped out—and moved to his left as he’d instructed. She wanted to ensure that she didn’t slow, hinder, or in any other way interfere with his work. He probably expected her to be a liability, one more person he had to protect, but she badly wanted to prove him wrong.