“I only know about one shooter. The same one who grabbed me when I ran off. The same one who had told me you were out to hurt Alani.”

Deadpan, Jackson said, “Seems you’re not much more help to us than you were to them.”

“But…I swear. I don’t know—”

The shrill ringing of the hospital phone made Alani jump and wrought a short screech from Tobin.

They all looked at the phone, there on the bedside table.

Horror filled Tobin’s gaze as he said, “You told someone I was here? Who did you tell?” Voice higher, panicked, “What the hell have you done?”

“Not a damn thing.” Jackson strode to the phone and picked it up. He put it to his ear and, not saying a thing, waited.

A digitally enhanced voice greeted him. “You son of a bitch, you took out two of my best men.”

Tuning out Alani and Tobin, Jackson concentrated on the caller. “Three actually.” Surprised silence greeted him. “Guess you just can’t get good help these days, huh? But then, you should already know that crime doesn’t pay.”

“And you’re a smartass, too.” A demonic laugh came over the line. “I should have realized.”

Jackson lifted out his cell and thumbed in a code. There wasn’t much Trace could do about a caller on the line, but he needed to know everything, every step of the way.

“Nothing to say to that, I take it?”

“You were waiting for confirmation?” Jackson faked a yawn. “I didn’t realize.”

“Well, realize this, you smug bastard—I’m coming for you.”

“Yeah?” He got the code back from Trace. No one suspicious or obvious in the area, inside or out. But the caller knew of the men he’d disabled and left in a closet. Did that mean they had someone undercover in the hospital? “When should I expect you?”

“Soon enough.”

He cut to the chase. “How’d you know to call here?”

Another evil laugh. “I’d lie and say I found the dupe, but truth is, I had a lackey call every area hospital until he was finally connected to a room with Marc Tobin.”

Believable, but he wouldn’t swallow that just yet. “And the goons I massacred?”

“I dispatched a few to each area hospital—just in case.”

“No shit? You’re that thorough?” And obviously part of a large operation.

“Always. Very. You might want to remember that.”

Like he would forget? “So how did you know I walked through them?” Fishing for answers, Jackson asked, “One of them get loose?”

Another beat of silence. “You mean…you didn’t kill them?”

It struck Jackson then: “Wait, I get it. You know they’re done for, because I answered the phone, right? If they’d been successful—”

“You’d be on your way to me right now instead of hanging out in that fool’s room.”

Not dead himself? Interesting. “You know, since we’re having this nice little chat, why don’t you tell me what it is you want?”

“Initially…just you.”

Relief coursed through his blood. So Alani was only a bystander to it all? Preferable.

But before he could relax, the caller said, “Now, since you’ve put me to so much trouble, I figure I’ll take the girl, as well.”

Jackson tamped down the gut-wrenching rage to keep his tone indifferent. “Yeah?” Refusing to look at Alani, he asked, “What girl is that?”

A rusty laugh. Another and another, building in pleasure and anticipation. “Maybe,” the voice whispered with abrupt malice, “I’ll just take them both.”

The call disconnected.

Jackson wanted to be calm. He wanted to be precise and methodical. In the past, no problem. His cold detachment from a fight was one of the first things to earn praise from Dare and Trace.

But that was before Alani.

Now, it seemed he shared a live connection with her that impacted every nuance of his being. Sometimes even his heartbeat fell into sync with hers, making him aware of every change in her demeanor, her excitement, her worry.

And right now, her distress.

She moved so close to him that he could feel her warmth and breathe in the sweet scent of her. Her presence made his life better—and more difficult.

He took a second to compose himself, to clear his head and open his mind to possibilities other than her being grabbed by a trafficker capable of beating a putz like Marc Tobin to the brink of death.

He’d get her out of here, he’d keep her safe.

No one would take her from him.

First things first.

Shooting for nonchalance, he turned back to the room. “Where were we?”

“Well,” Alani said patiently, her gaze watchful, “I’m close to hyperventilating, and Marc passed out.”

Bemused, Jackson scowled down at the other man—and saw it was true. “Oh, for the love of…” He stalked over to Tobin and clapped his hands over his head.

Loudly.

Tobin came to with a lurching cry.

“We’ll move you today.”

Gaze darting everywhere in unrelenting fear, Tobin asked, “To where?”

“Better if you don’t know that yet.” He went to the window to look out, then to the door to check out the hallway. He came back to the bedside to hit the nurse’s buzzer. “Stay awake, and keep a nurse in here with you if you can. Tell her something is hurting. Shouldn’t be a stretch, right?”