Chapter 4

"Stay down, our backup is on the way." Raelyn didn't like staying inside the damaged squad, it felt as if they were sitting ducks in a pond surrounded by hunters. She poked her head up to scan the area for the shooter. She felt certain the large Black man who'd tried to choke Isaiah had done this.

Was this really because Isaiah had made an anonymous call to the police about a drug deal going down outside the church? It seemed a stretch. Although to be fair, she couldn't imagine why the kids had chosen that location in the first place.

Unless they'd assumed Isaiah wouldn't rat them out.

"Let me up," he said in a muffled voice.

"No. I'm wearing a vest. You're not." The vest wouldn't protect her head, and her tactical team helmet was in the trunk of the squad, far out of reach. She was surprised the shooter hadn't made another attempt, but then she heard the wail of sirens.

Reluctantly, she let Isaiah up. "The local cops are on the way."

He sat up, frowning at the damage to her squad. "I feel terrible that you were in harm's way. This is my fault."

She turned to look at him. "You do know who's behind this?"

"I don't." He grimaced. "I wish I did. I would gladly tell you."

Somehow, she didn't quite believe that. Yet he had made the anonymous call.

There had been three attempts on his life in less than twenty-four hours. And that meant Isaiah needed to be in a safe house.

She watched as the two squads came up to either side of her damaged police cruiser. She pushed out of the driver's side door and smiled when she saw Reed Carmichael. She knew Reed was married to Alanna Finnegan, her boss Rhy Finnegan's sister. "Hey, Reed. Glad to see you."

"Happy to be here considering I missed the action yesterday." He worked out of the fifth district, but those officers often backed up the third district. The way the maps were drawn, his precinct shared some of this same turf. His gaze was full of concern. "Is this a personal attack against you?"

"No." She glanced over to where Isaiah had gotten out of the squad and gestured to him. "Pastor Isaiah Washington. He's in charge of the New Hope Church."

Reed's eyebrow hiked up in surprise. "That's odd. Why would anyone target him?"

"He says he doesn't know." She thought about how Isaiah had once sold drugs on these streets. "This is the third attempt to kill him, though, so obviously something is going on."

Reed let out a low whistle. "That's not good. What about taking him into protective custody?"

"I was about to call Rhy to ask about that," she admitted.

"Will you please stop talking about me as if I'm not here?" Isaiah said testily. "Don't I have any say in this?"

She was tempted to say no but managed to hold back the retort. She drew a deep breath and turned to face him. "Let me guess. You want to go to the church as if this never happened."

He held her gaze, and she thought she caught a flash of regret. "That is what I'd like to do. But obviously I can't ignore what just happened here. I guess it's for the best if I return home and stay put for the next twenty-four hours."

"The large Black man who attacked you knows where you live," she felt compelled to point out. "Returning home is not a viable option."

"I don't have unlimited funds for a hotel." He frowned. "Although I could do a day or two, I guess."

"Let me give you both a ride out of here," Reed offered. He raked his gaze over her. "You look as if you could use some sleep."

That was putting it nicely. She knew she looked like leftover meatloaf. "I do; my shift is at three o'clock today." She hesitated, then added, "Let's go. I have an idea."

One of the other officers called for a tow truck for her squad. She tried not to think about what Rhy would say about the damaged car. He wouldn't blame her, but as the captain of their team, he had to deal with the never-ending budget issues.

A job she did not envy.

Once they were seated in Reed's squad, she turned in her seat to glance at Isaiah. "I have a second bedroom in my house. I think you should stay there for a while. I need to get some sleep before heading off to work my scheduled eight-hour shift. You'll have the place to yourself."

"Where is your house?" Isaiah asked.

"Greenland," she admitted. "I know that's about ten miles from your church, but it's the best I can do for tonight."

He turned to gaze out the window for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay. I'll stay with you temporarily."

"Thank you." She was surprised he agreed and felt as if a weight had rolled off her shoulders. Raelyn knew she wouldn't have gotten much sleep if he'd refused. Why she felt responsible for him, she had no idea. She pulled her phone from her pocket and called Rhy to fill him in on the latest.

"Are you hurt?" Rhy demanded.

"I'm fine and so is Pastor Washington." She sighed. "The squad took a hit, though. I'm with Reed Carmichael. He's dropping us at my place." She filled Rhy in on the choking attempt outside Isaiah's house.

"And Isaiah really has no idea who is behind all of this?" Her boss's tone reeked of doubt. She was glad she wasn't the only skeptic.

"That's what he says." She yawned as the adrenaline rush after being struck by gunfire faded. "I'm heading home to get some sleep."

"Do you want me to find someone to take your shift?" Rhy asked.

"No need." The last thing she wanted was to spend the entire day with Isaiah. Bad enough he'd be in her personal space. "I'll be fine."

"Keep in touch," Rhy said, before ending the call.

She slid her phone back into her pocket and yawned again. Her lack of sleep from sitting outside Isaiah's house was catching up with her.

Reed dropped her and Isaiah off in front of her small ranch house. "Call if you need anything, Rae."

"Will do. Thanks." She pulled her keys from her pocket and headed up to the front door. After unlocking it, she stepped inside, followed by Isaiah.

"This is very nice," he said with admiration.

"Probably not as welcoming as yours, though." She was keenly aware of the lack of personal items on display. Not that Isaiah had any family photos either. She thought about her mother and the way she'd been put into the foster care system after nearly being sexually assaulted and nearly raped by Kenny, her mother's boyfriend.

She hadn't seen her mother after that. And truthfully hadn't even tried to find the woman. The very fact that her mother had tried to defend her dirtbag boyfriend had hurt.

After living in various foster homes, then joining the army, she valued her privacy. She hadn't lived with anyone in years and was a little annoyed to have Isaiah invading her personal space now.

Yet she's the one who suggested this arrangement. She forced a smile. "Make yourself at home." She headed down the short hallway where the bedrooms were located. "Here's the guest room." She opened the door. "We have to share the full bathroom, but there's a half bath off the kitchen."

"The life of luxury," Isaiah murmured. His smile lit up his features, making her keenly aware of how handsome he was. "Thank you."

She nodded, suddenly at a loss for what to say. The house wasn't big or fancy, but it was hers. She made her way to the next doorway, leading into the main bedroom, then glanced at him over her shoulder. "Good night."

"Good night, Raelyn."

His deep husky voice seemed to follow her inside the room. She closed the door and leaned against it for a long moment. Then she pushed away and removed her weapon, utility belt, and the rest of her gear.

Being in the army had trained her to sleep in difficult situations. But she soon learned that ignoring physical discomfort was far easier than ignoring her troubled thoughts and emotions.

As a result, sleep did not come easily.

Isaiah wasn't usedto sitting around doing nothing all day. He spent an hour or two working on his sermon for the upcoming Sunday, then decided to clean Raelyn's kitchen. He did the task as quietly as possible so as not to wake her.

He didn't used to be such a neat freak, but jail had changed him. He would never again take the simple things in life, like cleanliness, for granted.

Besides, he'd rather stay busy. He'd noticed Raelyn didn't have any family photos in the main living area. Or any other personal mementos. The same way he didn't. He'd often wished he had a picture of his mother. They had never owned a camera or those expensive cell phones that had cameras built in. It was only when he'd gotten out of jail and learned his mother had died that the realization had sunk deep.

All he had left of his mother was memories. And even those were fading with time.

He found himself wondering why Raelyn had chosen to live alone. Why she'd joined the army, then had become a cop. They were very different people, yet he couldn't help being intrigued by her.

When the kitchen was spotless, he tiptoed down the hall to listen at her door. Hearing nothing, he returned to the main living space.

Now what? He should have brought his Bible with him. Or another book to read. He had his cell phone and could use the reading app, which wasn't optimal but would do in a pinch.

He wasn't remotely interested in daytime TV.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He would be far better off working as a rideshare driver rather than sitting around here. But he wouldn't leave without letting Raelyn know, so he forced himself to stay put.

Thinking she'd be hungry when she awoke, he poked through her fridge and freezer. He found ground beef and the rest of the ingredients he'd need to make a large pot of chili.

"Something smells great."

He whirled from the stove, his gaze colliding with Raelyn's. She was dressed casually in worn blue jeans and a light topaz long-sleeved T-shirt. It was the first time he'd seen her out of uniform, and his mouth went dry at how stunningly beautiful she was.

When he realized she was looking at him in amusement, he forced himself to turn his gaze back to the stove. "Chili," he managed in a choked voice that had nothing to do with the large Black man's attack on him the night before. "I hope you don't mind."

"I told you to make yourself at home." She crossed over to sniff at the pot. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"I taught myself." He smiled. "Prison food is awful."

"As bad as army rations, I'm sure." The way she returned his smile made his heart stutter in his chest. He put his hand up to press on the scar the bullet had left behind. "I would have made corn bread, but I couldn't find the ingredients for that."

"I've never made cornbread, although it sounds amazing." She finally moved away, going to the fridge to pour herself a glass of water. "Thanks for doing this. I only have forty minutes before I need to leave for work."

"I know. It's ready." He quickly filled two bowls and carried them to the table. Then he brought out the crackers he'd found in her cupboard. "I would like to say grace."

She nodded and bowed her head.

"Dear Lord Jesus, we thank You for this food we are about to eat. We ask that You continue to keep Raelyn and the other police officers safe in Your care. Amen."

There was a slight pause, before she added, "Amen."

They ate in silence for a moment. "I'd like to do some rideshare hours this evening," he said. "If I can't be at the church, supporting my parishioners, I'd at least like to do something constructive."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said with a frown. "The large Black man who attacked you knows your car."

"Yes, that's true." He stared down at his bowl of chili, which was not bad if he said so himself. Then he lifted his gaze to hers. "I was thinking I could drop you off at work and borrow your vehicle. I noticed you have an SUV in the garage. I'll make sure to top off the gas tank. I'll have to log in to register the vehicle so I can use it, but that won't take long."

She looked as if she might refuse, then nodded. "Okay. I guess I can understand your desire to keep busy. I would go crazy sitting around too."

"Thanks." He smiled in relief. "I'm glad you understand."

She glanced around the kitchen. "I can't help but notice you were so bored you cleaned." She shook her head. "That wasn't necessary."

"I don't mind." He shrugged and took another bite of his chili. "It's the least I can do while you put your life on the line for others."

"I appreciate that, but all you have to do is tell me who you think is coming after you," she said. "Maybe enemies from the past?"

"I'd considered that, but ten years is a long time." He paused, not sure how much to tell her. "Ten years ago, I only knew the name of the head of the drug-running operation as Chief. Which isn't much help."

"I can run the nickname through the system, see if anything hits," she mused. "You'd be surprised by the level of information the police have gathered over time."

He probably should have mentioned it earlier. "The other guy who worked the drug business is a Donte Wicks. Last I checked, he was still in prison. He's a tall skinny guy, so I don't believe he was the one who attacked me last night."

She gave him an exasperated look. "You should have told me about Donte Wicks. Could be the large Black man is a friend or family member of the guy."

"Maybe I should have, but the fact is there's always another drug dealer in the wings, ready to take over. I can't imagine someone trying to kill me just because Donte is in jail." He spread his hands. "Do you have any idea how many people who live where I do have done jail time? It's far more common to have a police record than not." He thought of Pinky and the Glock, and his heart felt heavy. "I can't imagine anyone would come after me ten years later for something like that. Especially when many of these guys are irrationally proud of serving time. For them, it's a badge of honor. Street cred."

"I guess that makes sense." She finished her chili. "This was delicious. Thanks."

"It's your food. I just threw it together." He rose to his feet and reached for her empty bowl. "I'll do the dishes while you finish getting ready for work."

"Isaiah." Hearing his name, he turned to glance back at her. "I want you to be cautious tonight, okay?"

"I will. There's no reason to worry; driving isn't very dangerous. Most of my customers ignore me."

She nodded, and he turned back to fill the sink with soapy water. Sure, there was always the possibility of being robbed while driving, but everyone knew that payments were made via electronic means rather than cash.

When the dishes were stacked in the sink, he left them to air dry. Raelyn returned to the kitchen, wearing a fresh uniform. With her hair pulled back in a bun, she wore what he thought of as her cop face. A serious expression that gave her an aura of authority.

"Ready?" She held out her keys.

"Yes." He opened the door leading to the garage. Minutes later, he was driving away from her ranch home toward the address she'd given him for the precinct.

"Do you go out on patrol?" He glanced at her, realizing he didn't know much about how the police operated. "Or wait for a specific type of call?"

"We do go out on patrol," she said. "But we're not given specific assignments like most cops because we may need to drop everything to head out on a specific tactical assignment." She frowned. "Much like the one we responded to yesterday outside your church."

"I see." It sounded as if she and her teammates responded to the highest level of crime scenes, placing her and the others smack in the middle of danger. Granted, all cops were in danger; those who'd responded yesterday could attest to that. But still, he couldn't help being impressed with her dedication to service.

Maybe that dedication to serving the community was another way they were similar.

"I've never been inside a police station." He pulled up in front of the precinct. "I hope you have a safe and productive shift, Raelyn."

She nodded. "Thanks, you too." Without saying anything more, she slid out of the passenger seat and hurried up to the building. He shifted into drive and pulled away, reminding himself that despite their respective jobs of serving others, Raelyn was hardly the woman for him.

She was beautiful, smart, strong, and capable of protecting others. Even if she was looking for a relationship, she would not be interested in a man with a criminal record, who worked for peanuts as a pastor, and made ends meet by driving for a rideshare company. He preached peace and forgiveness, while she dressed each day for war with a gun on her hip and a bulletproof vest as a shield.

He needed to keep his head screwed on straight. The best he could do was to admire Raelyn from afar.

He pulled over to the side of the road to update the vehicle information in the rideshare app. Then he placed himself as available to provide rides. It didn't take long for the first request to come in, and he quickly accepted the job and turned around to head for the airport.

It had been a while since he'd made an airport run and found he liked it much better than late-night driving. However, he was usually at his church at this time of the day. That thought made him feel bad for the families that were grieving the loss of their loved ones without his support.

Was he being a coward to avoid returning to his job at the church? Yes, three attempts had been made against him, but what about the people who deserved his support? He couldn't hide at Raelyn's house forever.

Tomorrow, he decided. He'd return to his role as church pastor first thing in the morning. To be there for those who needed him.

The next couple of hours went by slowly. This sitting around, twiddling his thumbs, was the hardest part. At least the May weather was warm enough that he could sit in the park with the windows open.

His thoughts went back to the attack outside his house and the large Black man who'd told him he deserved to die. Had there been a hint of familiarity about him? Not Donte Wicks, but maybe someone close to Donte? A brother or cousin?

He abruptly straightened in the driver's seat. Was it possible that guy had been the Chief himself?

No, that wasn't likely. He relaxed, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Men who ruled the hood, the way the Chief did, wouldn't get their hands dirty by attacking him. He'd hire someone for that.

But even if the Chief was behind the attacks, he still didn't understand why. Isaiah's days of selling drugs were over and had been for ten years. He didn't know the guy's real name and doubted anyone else did either.

None of it made any sense. He sighed, then sat up straight when another call came in. He quickly accepted the job and started Raelyn's SUV.

Another ride, another dollar, he thought with a smile. At least he'd have some cash stockpiled for his after Sunday service meals. And that alone was worth the effort.

He picked up another guy at the airport, then had a fare from a local hotel. He was about to call it a night when he was offered another job, picking up an older man from a nursing home to head to the hospital.

That was unusual enough that he accepted the ride and headed over. When the older man finally got settled in the back seat, he met his gaze in the rearview mirror. "Are you feeling okay, sir?"

"Fine, fine." He waved a gnarled hand. "Just gonna visit my wife, that's all."

"I understand." The news made him relax, and Isaiah decided to provide this ride for free. The older man gazed out the window, then turned to face him.

"Are you married?"

"Me? No." Raelyn's face flashed in his mind, and he ruthlessly shoved it away. "How long have you and your wife been married?"

"Fifty-eight years." A smile tugged at the corner of the man's mouth. "She's the light of my life."

Isaiah wondered what had caused her to be in the hospital but didn't ask. The trip was a short one, and when he pulled up in front of the main entrance, he said, "This ride is on me."

"Really?" The older man brightened. "Thank you. I appreciate that, and Lucy, my wife, will too."

Isaiah slid out from behind the wheel to help him out. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." The older man waved, then used his cane to head inside.

It was difficult to imagine being married to the same person for fifty-eight years. Marriages in the inner city did not last long. And many people didn't bother with the formality of getting married in the first place.

He slid back behind the wheel of Raelyn's SUV and turned to head back to her house. He'd done another four hours of driving, and that was good enough for now. Remembering his promise to fill her tank, he pulled into the gas station closest to her place. When he finished, he grabbed the receipt and then rounded the back of the vehicle to get inside.

Then he felt someone coming up behind him.

The recent attacks had him reacting with quick self-preservation instincts. He ducked and lashed out with his fist, striking the man's gun hand. He must have caught the guy off guard because the weapon clattered to the ground.

The large Black man, the same one who'd attacked him yesterday, threw a punch that he barely managed to deflect. When the assailant bent down to grab the gun he'd dropped, Isaiah brought his knee up into the man's face, striking him below the chin with as much strength as he could muster.

His attacker howled in pain and anger. Isaiah wanted this guy to be arrested and tossed in jail, but there wasn't a cop in sight.

"I'll kill you for this," the Black man hissed. As if that hadn't been his intent all along.

Isaiah didn't bother trying to reason with him. He knew he didn't have the other man's strength, so winning a fair fight wasn't going to happen. Feeling desperate, he lashed out with his foot, kicking the man in the groin. Once again, the assailant doubled over in pain but still managed to hang onto the gun.

Isaiah took advantage of the moment to jump into the SUV. He slammed and locked the doors, then drove off.

In the rearview mirror, he saw the large Black man lift the gun, pointing it toward him. He yanked hard on the steering wheel, taking the SUV up and over the curb to avoid being hit.

The Black man fired several rounds, but thankfully, none of them hit Raelyn's SUV.

He managed to drive away from the scene unscathed yet sick at the realization that the gunman had found him despite driving Raelyn's SUV.

And mere blocks from her ranch home.

He couldn't go back there, and neither could she. He made a fist and pounded on the steering wheel in frustration. His dark past had drawn Raelyn into danger right alongside him.

And he still had no idea who was behind this or why.