CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

Assuring everyone that she’d be back again next week, Havana said her goodbyes to the residents of the shelter, who then began to filter out of the room. Puffing out a breath, she headed to the corner of the large space, where she’d dumped her gym bag.

Dawn crossed to her, smiling. “Thanks for this, Havana. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now, so I really appreciate you keeping up with the classes.”

“It’s no problem. Like I told Madisyn and Makenna, the people here may need them now more than they ever did,” said Havana, hooking the straps of her bag over her shoulder.

Dawn’s smile dimmed. “I asked Keziah to join your classes and learn some self-defense techniques, but she didn’t want to. Maybe if she had, maybe if I made this sort of thing compulsory—”

“Dawn, it’s not your fault that she was taken.”

The cougar nodded, but there was no real agreement in the act. “I’m still hoping and praying that she’s found. I dread to think what could be happening to her right this very second.” Her eyes teared up, which plain freaked Havana out.

“No crying. Please. I’m not good at comforting people. Plus, Corbin will be able to tell you were crying when he picks you up for your date later, and then he’ll get all cranky about it.”

Dawn’s lips curled on one side. “He’s very sweet.”

Hearing a child giggle, Havana looked to see a small, redheaded little girl stroking Aspen’s bearcat while clinging tight to a ratty, plush cheetah toy.

Dawn put a hand to her chest. “That’s the first time I’ve heard Rayna laugh since she arrived here two weeks ago. She’s nervous all the time; never leaves her mother’s side.” Dawn tipped her chin toward the woman chatting with a juvenile.

Aspen had noticed that little Rayna was a bag of nerves, so she’d shifted into her animal form in the hope of putting her at ease. Aspen might be an ultra badass, but she was a softie when it came to kids.

“I must admit, I wasn’t so sure the bearcat would let Rayna close,” Dawn added. “They generally don’t like to be touched.”

“Bearcats would never harm a child,” said Havana. “But adults? They’re fair game.”

“Then let’s hope those two do the smart thing and steer clear of her.” Dawn gestured at the young men creeping closer to the bearcat, looking at her like she was the most adorable thing they’d ever seen.

Havana almost rolled her eyes. People always wore that look whenever they got a glimpse of the bearcat. Apart from Tate. But then, he knew from his own kind that cuteness could also mean viciousness.

“I take it Aspen insisted on coming along to watch over you.”

Havana nodded. “Yep.”

“I’m surprised Bailey didn’t come with you as well.”

“She tried. I said that only one could come with me, and I allowed it purely to put both their minds at rest. So Bailey is back at the center. I’m not an easy target, and I have two pallas cats following me everywhere to guard me. They’re parked in the lot outside.”

Havana had wondered if they’d complain about guarding her since she’d tumbled all over their pride mate’s shit last night at the Tavern. But they either didn’t care or simply wouldn’t dream of questioning Tate’s orders.

“It brings Corbin comfort to know that you’re so closely watched,” said Dawn. “He’s worried about you. We all are.”

“Ow!”

Havana sighed on seeing that one of the males who’d been edging toward the bearcat now had the animal literally hanging from his hand, her teeth clamped around it. Havana gave her a sharp look. “Let him go. Now.”

The bearcat shot her a disgruntled look but did as asked. She then climbed Havana’s body as if she were a damn tree.

The guy gaped down at the bleeding puncture wounds on his hand and then stared wide-eyed at the bearcat now clinging to Havana’s shoulders. “She mangled my hand.”

Havana snorted. “Of course she did. She’s a bearcat. You touched her.”

“Really, Sean, you should have known better,” said Dawn, shaking her head.

He shrugged, sheepish. “She’s just so cute and sweet. Or, at least, I thought she was sweet.”

Giggling, Rayna reached up and petted the bearcat’s foot. “I have to go now. My momma’s calling me. Bye!” She used her plush toy’s paw to wave and then skipped away.

Havana glanced over her shoulder at the bearcat. “Shift. We gotta go.”

In no time at all, Aspen was back in her human form and fully dressed.

“Thanks again for coming,” said Dawn, patting Havana’s arm. “And Aspen, thanks for allowing Rayna to play with your animal.”

“Not a problem,” said Aspen.

Havana raised a brow at the cougar. “Same time next week?”

Dawn smiled. “That would be great.”

Outside the shelter, Havana squinted as the harsh glare of the sunlight stung her eyes.

“Damn, it’s hot,” said Aspen. “I think I might go sit on our rooftop when we get home and just lounge in the sun. You up for it?”

“Sure, why not?”

Walking through the parking lot, Havana waved at the two pallas cats who were leaning against their car. They simply nodded in response.

Just then, Aspen’s phone began to ring. She checked her phone screen, grimaced slightly, and then pocketed her cell without answering it.

“Who’s that?” asked Havana.

“Camden.”

“You’re not going to take the call?”

“Not when he’s only gonna yell at me againfor not telling him that Randy got in my face at the center.”

“You had to know that someone would tell him. I mean, he works at the center.”

“I was fine with him knowing, but I wasn’t going to be the one who tattled. I don’t want to come between him and his partners, even if I don’t like said partners.”

“I guess I can understand that.” Knowing her friend wouldn’t want to talk about it further, Havana said, “I’m thinking of cooking spaghetti and meatballs tonight.”

Aspen’s brows lifted slightly. “Ooh, can I wangle myself an invite?”

“I don’t see why not, so long as your bearcat and Bailey’s mamba don’t—” She cut off as the pallas cats yelled something from the other side of the lot while hurrying toward her. Havana tensed, realizing Deke was shouting “Get down!” and Isaiah was bellowing “Duck!”

She was about to drop when a crack of thunder split the air. She flinched as a red-hot impact sank into her throat, causing an explosion of pain.

Time seemed to slow down as Havana swayed. She smelled blood. Felt warm liquid on her neck. Would have reached up to prod the liquid if her limbs didn’t suddenly feel like noodles.

There were more cracks of thunder. Hot pain punched into her stomach, and then into her shoulder. Fuck. A gray blur gathered around the edges of her vision, and her devil went insane.

Just as Havana’s knees gave out, she heard Aspen’s panicked curse, the screeching of tires, and the pounding of heavy footsteps.

Havana slumped to the ground, choking on … something.

“Stay awake, Havana!” screeched Aspen. “Stay a-fucking-wake!”

She couldn’t. She could feel herself fading. She could feel a strange darkness creeping over her until there was just … nothing.

Seated at his dining table, Tate glared at the female opposite him. Ashlynn sat with her back straight, her body rigid, and her eyes hard as stone. Probably because he’d just calmly but coldly reamed her up first one side then the other—and he’d done it in front of both Luke and Farrell, hence the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.

Still furious about the scene at the Tavern last night, Tate had already called in first Eva and then Aimee—both of whom had apologized before he spoke a single word—to give them a verbal smackdown. There’d been no instant apology from Ashlynn. She’d strolled into the room with her chin up and her shoulders squared.

“I can’t believe you’re pissed at me for what happened,” she said.

“You instigated the whole thing. It was bad enough that you had so little respect for the pride as to start a fight in our own damn hangout. That the person you targeted was under my protection only made it worse. It meant she should have also been under your protection.”

“She struck first,” Ashlynn defended.

“Yeah, devils tend to do that. You knew that when you provoked her,” Tate accused. “You were counting on it so that she’d later get the blame for whatever occurred.”

Generally, pallas cats didn’t pick fights. They didn’t bother you so long as you didn’t bother them. So it might have been easy for people to believe that Havana had been the one to start that shit if Ashlynn hadn’t spent hours shooting her challenging glares.

“You were looking for a fight,” Tate added. “And when Havana didn’t give you one, you took it to the next level and confronted her.”

“No, I just wanted to chat with her. That’s all. I heard about the Gideon situation, I reassured her that our pride would take care of it and that you’d take it seriously. If I’d been her, I’d have wanted that reassurance. I was being nice.”

Tate exchanged a look of disbelief with Luke, who was leaning against the countertop shaking his head. Beside the Beta, Farrell rolled his eyes.

“When I introduced myself, I could tell by the look on her face that she’d heard of me.” Ashlynn’s eyes briefly lowered. “I guessed she’d heard some highly negative things, which she confirmed. We talked a little about you. She’s bitter that you don’t care for her. She blamed me for you being so closed off and for you ending the fling, claiming it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t come home. She thinks you got rid of her for me. She said a lot of snarky things and then challenged me to a fight. I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry that this happened at the Tavern, but I can’t apologize for not backing down. I’m not a person who’d walk away from a challenge.”

“Maybe you should have made an exception last night, because she quite clearly overpowered you.”

Ashlynn jerked her chin up. “She only won the fight because, hesitant to have a brawl in my pride’s hangout, I didn’t use my full strength.”

Tate snorted. “It wasn’t a fight. She didn’t even injure you. She played with you. And then she topped it all off by humiliating you while you were unconscious.” His cat still thought the whole thing was fucking awesome. Tate agreed.

The twin flags of red staining Ashlynn’s cheeks darkened. “All I did was try to talk to her. I don’t even know how things deteriorated so fast.”

“Maybe she didn’t appreciate you trying to get Tate’s attention by embarrassing her,” suggested Luke. “It seems clear to me that you wanted to weaken her in his eyes so that he’d lose interest in her, only it didn’t work out that way.”

“I know you’re angry with me for hurting your brother in the past, Luke, but I think it’s unfair of you to side with a female who isn’t even one of us,” said Ashlynn, prim and haughty. She looked at Tate. “You’re not even giving me the benefit of the doubt. You’re just pinning the blame on me.”

“Because you are to blame,” Tate stated. “Almost every word you’ve spoken here was a lie.”

“It was not! I’m telling you, she wanted the confrontation. She was sure you’d dumped her for me, and she resented me for it.”

Tate leaned forward. “Havana would have no reason to blame you for my ending the fling, because I didn’t end it. She did.”

Ashlynn’s face went slack. She rallied fast. “That’s not what she said when—”

“Let me be very clear,” said Tate, his voice dripping with frost. “I don’t care how embarrassed you are by how last night ended for you. You will not retaliate. You will not contact her—not even to apologize. I don’t want you talking to her. She won’t want you talking to her. She doesn’t exist for you. Understand me?”

Ashlynn’s eyes narrowed to slits, and her upper lip curled back. “If she matters so much to you, why haven’t you let her past those walls of yours? Huh? Tell me that.”

His cat bristled, and Tate straightened in his seat. “I let you return to our pride, but I can just as easily throw you back out. I don’t owe you any explanations for anything. Very few people have earned the right to question my choices—you’re not one of them. All you are to me is a member of my pride. But the behavior you displayed last night makes me wonder if you truly consider yourself one of us.”

She frowned. “Of course I consider myself a member.”

“Really? What you did wasn’t fair or loyal to your pride mates. You let them down. You let yourself down. You sparked conflict and violence in the place we go to wind down; a place we hold celebrations and so is, therefore, special to many. You didn’t care that your behavior could taint that. You cheapened yourself in their eyes and mine.

“Maybe being alone for three years made you forget how being part of a pride works. We support each other. Protect each other. Respect each other. We work together as a community of sorts. If you don’t feel that you can do that, you are free to leave.”

“You wouldn’t care if I left?” she asked, her voice small. “You wouldn’t care if I was alone again?”

“Not in the way you want me to. I don’t say that to be cruel. I say it because you’re not hearing me when I say I don’t want you. Nothing you could say or do would change that. Nothing. Forget about pointlessly trying to win me back. Concentrate on being a productive member of the pride. The alternative? You leave. If you need time to think about what you want, take it. In the meantime, keep your head down if you know what’s good for you. Now get the fuck out of here, and do not bother Havana Ramos again in any way, shape, or form.”

Ashlynn’s eyes sparkled like chips of broken glass. “Yes, Alpha,” she said through gritted teeth.

Tate sharply tipped his chin toward the door.

She pushed to her feet and stalked out of the room with her head held high. Moments later, he heard the front door slam shut.

Farrell took a seat at the table. “That girl has some nerve. I think you got through to her, though. She heard you loud and clear when you said you’re not interested in rekindling your relationship with her.”

“Agreed,” said Luke. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if she later managed to convince herself that you only said these things in anger. She always seemed so confident that she could change your mind, though I have no clue why.”

Tate sighed. “It was always her biggest weakness.”

“What?” asked Luke.

“She gets tunnel vision when she wants something—doesn’t see anything but the end goal, so she doesn’t properly see the other aspects of the situation.” It was no doubt why she’d tried pursuing a grieving Koby. “She doesn’t acknowledge the hurdles, which means she never manages to overcome them and just doesn’t know when to stop.”

“If she doesn’t learn to get past that, she won’t make a good Alpha for whatever pride she one day leads,” said Luke. “It sure as shit won’t be ours.”

“Too right it won’t.” Tate’s phone began to chime. He fished it out of his pocket and saw that the caller was Deke. Tate answered, “Yeah?”

“Stay calm,” said Deke. “Havana’s fine, but … she was shot outside the shelter just now.”

Tate’s entire body went tight as shock slammed into him. His mind went utterly blank, as if unable to fully process what he’d heard. “What?”

“It was a drive-by shooting,” Deke went on. “We got her inside the shelter. There’s a healer here who fixed her up.”

Tate fisted his hand as panic and fury set in. He let out a stream of vicious curses. “Put her on the phone,” he ordered, needing to hear her voice.

“I can’t, man. She’s out.”

Tate tightened his grip on the cell. “You said she was okay.”

“She is, but she took three bullets—one to the stomach, one to the shoulder, and one to the throat. She lost a lot of blood. She’s sleeping it off in Dawn’s office.”

Three bullets. Tate squeezed his eyes shut and abruptly pushed out of his chair, making it skid backwards. “Fuck.”She could have died. Probably would have choked on her own damn blood if a healer hadn’t been so close. It was a minor miracle that she was alive.

“What’s going on?” asked Luke.

Tate didn’t answer. Didn’t want to say aloud what he’d heard. Didn’t know if he could speak the words without losing it.

His cat hissed and clawed at him, wanting him to move, move, move and get to her. And the internal battle that Tate had been waging against the urge to brand her just … ignited. It became a rampant storm inside him that whirled and whirled and whirled. It then abruptly swept outward, smashing his mental shields into nothing. Like that, a primal knowledge hit him so hard it almost made his knees give out.

He took a shuddering breath as several emotions rose up out of nowhere and thundered through him. Satisfaction. Certainty. Pride. Possessiveness. For months, he’d subconsciously prevented that primal knowledge from sinking in. Right then, he didn’t fight it. He let it take hold. Let himself accept it. Havana Ramos was his true mate.

He understood now why he’d felt so driven to mark her. He’d been right in thinking that it hadn’t been about claiming her. No, not even his subconscious would urge him to force a claiming bite on her. It was something else.

He’d involuntarily buried the realization that she was his true mate, keeping it trapped behind a mental wall. But the day she’d told him it was time that they went their own way, that wall had fractured. And the knowledge that she was his had been battering at the wall ever since—driving him to keep her close by whatever means necessary, even if it meant forcing his brand on her.

Not even the joy he felt at accepting the truth could push the anger from his system. His mate had been shot and, worse, he hadn’t been there for her.

“Seriously, Tate, what’s going on?” Luke persisted.

“Drive-by shooting,” Tate told him, his voice guttural, surprised he could speak at all when fury clogged his airways. “Havana was shot.”

“Mother of fuck,” spat Luke.

Tate clenched his hand tighter around his cell. “Tell me you got the bastard who did it, Deke.”

“Wish I could,” replied the enforcer. “We were more worried about getting Havana help. The bullet that hit her throat nicked an artery. The shelter has cameras; they might have caught a decent glimpse of the shooter.”

Nicked an artery.

Tate’s cat hissed out a long breath. Fuck. He stalked out of the room, intent on reaching her. “I’ll be right there. Don’t leave her side, Deke. You watch her every fucking second, you hear me?”

“I hear you. I won’t move from her side,” Deke promised.

Tate rang off and pocketed his phone.

“Hold up, me and Farrell are coming with you,” Luke called out.

Tate said nothing. He didn’t care who came along, providing he reached her fast. Outside, Luke slid into the driver’s seat of the SUV while Farrell rode shotgun. Eager to get to his mate, Tate would have insisted on driving if he was in a fit state to do so. He was close to losing his shit, and having his cat turn into a ball of fury inside him wasn’t helping. So he simply hopped into the rear passenger seat and snapped out, “Drive.”

“I know anger is riding you but lock it down,” said Luke. “She’s fine.”

Tate gritted his teeth, his fists clenched. “She took three bullets.”

“But she survived.”

That wasn’t the fucking point, because … “She took three bullets.”And he hadn’t been there. Hadn’t been able to help her. She could have died.

“And you’ll make sure whoever is responsible pays for that. Take a breath, lock down the anger, and tell your cat to calm his ass down. You have to have a clear head for this, Tate. That’s what she needs from you right now.”

She’d needed a lot of things from Tate, but he’d given her none of them. He’d let her down and, in doing so, hurt her. He wouldn’t do that again.

Drifting in that state that wasn’t quite “awake” yet wasn’t quite “asleep,” Havana frowned when her inner devil nudged her, pushing her to snap out of it. Havana didn’t want to. She was so tired, and her body just felt so heavy. Plus, it was hard to think past the thick fog in her mind.

A muffled cacophony of voices seemed very far away. Still, she could decipher a few of them. Bailey. Aspen. Dawn. Corbin. Tate.

Tate. His rumbly voice pierced right through the fog and caused her system to jumpstart—just his presence could do that.

She mentally scrambled, trying to work out why her devil was in a snit and why she felt so drained.

Her eyes weakly fluttered open. The world was on a tilt. Without lifting her head, she took in the office desk, the black leather chair, the framed pictures on the wall. She knew this room. It was Dawn’s office. And Havana was currently lying on Dawn’s sofa, she realized.

“It had to have been Gideon,” said Aspen, her voice coming from Havana’s left. “I’m not saying he pulled the trigger, I’m just saying he was behind this.”

“Definitely,” agreed Bailey, who seemed to be sitting on Havana’s right. “There’s no one else who’d target her this way.”

“She’s awake,” said Tate.

A pair of jean-clad legs entered Havana’s line of sight. Then Tate crouched in front of her and brushed her hair away from her face. Even though her body had all the enthusiasm of a wilting plant, her pulse nonetheless jumped.

“Hey,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft given that his inky blue eyes were two swirling storms of anger. There was something … different about the way he looked at her. His gaze was more intense than ever before. More piercing. More intimate. But she couldn’t quite reason it out.

“You’re fine,” he went on, lightly dancing his fingertips over her scalp. “Bullets are gone. Your wounds are healed.”

Havana touched her throat. The cracks of thunder. The hot punches of pain. “I was shot?”

He nodded, his jaw tight. “It was a drive-by—the bastards were there and gone in an instant. Aspen and my enforcers carried you in here. A resident healed you, thank Christ.”

Havana did a slow blink, struggling to absorb Tate’s words. “A drive-by? Really?”

He nodded, his eyes blazing. “You were shot in the throat, shoulder, and stomach.” The words sounded torn out of him.

Motherfucker. She ground her teeth, wanting nothing more than to pound Gideon into the goddamn ground because, seriously, who else would be behind this?

“You feel okay?” asked Bailey.

Havana sluggishly sat upright. “Just wiped. And monumentally pissed.” She didn’t need anyone to tell her she was lucky to be alive. That she’d come so close to dying just like that … it was a head wrecker.

Aspen scooted closer to her. “It all happened so fast I almost couldn’t process it. You scared the shit out of me when you blacked out.”

Havana frowned. “You have blood on you. They shot you, too?”

“No, genius, the blood’s yours. It’s all over you as well.”

Havana looked down. Ugh. Her tee did in fact boast huge crimson red stains. How ultra-special. It wasn’t the first time she’d taken a bullet, thanks to her old job, but she’d never been shot in the throat before. She hadn’t ever needed the aid of a healer to save her life.

A muscle in Tate’s cheek flexed as he skimmed his fingertips over her throat. “The bullet hit an artery.” The alpha vibes radiating from him were almost electric with fury. Every man there appeared just as pissed. The tension in the air was unbearably thick. It was too much angry-dominant-male in one space, really.

“Aspen and the boys were so frantic to get you to safety that they rightfully didn’t pursue the car,” Tate went on, taking Havana’s hands in his. “But we’re about to watch the video feed from the outdoor cameras. Dawn’s accessing it on her laptop now.”

“It’s almost ready to view.” Dawn gave her a tremulous smile, standing at the edge of her desk, her fingers poised above the keys of her laptop. “I’m so glad you’re okay, hon. I have to admit, you gave me quite a scare.”

“With any luck, we’ll see the face of whoever fired the gun,” Tate added. “Then I can kill him.”

“I kind of want in on that.” Havana had plans to make the asshole suffer.

“Yeah, I thought you might,” said Tate.

“We all want in on it,” Aspen chimed in. “Even Corbin, who’s scowling at you like you peed all over his shoes.”

“You took ten years off my life, Havana,” Corbin grumbled, as if she’d jumped into the line of fire for the sheer fun of it. “Bailey near lost her damn mind, so it’s a wonder she drove us both here without wrapping the car around a freaking tree.”

Bailey made a pfft sound. “Says the man who kept nagging, ‘Can’t you go any faster?’”

“And we’re ready,” said Dawn, setting the laptop on the coffee table, the screen facing the sofa. “I rewound the footage to the time Havana left the building, and I’ve brought up footage from both camera one, which is aimed at the street, and also camera four, which points at the parking lot. There’s no audio, by the way.”

Everyone gathered close to watch the two perspectives playing. The camera system was evidently good quality. The view wasn’t in the slightest bit grainy as a black Charger with blacked-out windows drove down the street, slowing as it reached the shelter. The front passenger window lowered, and the barrel of a gun poked out of it.

Havana’s stomach pitched as she glanced to camera four’s view and saw her body jolt. She swayed and then dropped to her knees while the car sped away. Watching the screen, her devil let out an eerie growl.

Beside her, Tate bit out a harsh curse. “Replay the footage from camera one, Dawn. This time, zoom in on the Charger. I want the license plate number, and I want a clear image of that fucker’s face. The angle’s just right. I caught a quick glimpse of him just now.”

Havana joined the others in leaning forward as the footage replayed. Dawn paused it and zoomed in, allowing them to read the license plate. Then she zoomed in even more, and Havana found herself looking right at her motherfucking shooter. Well, sort of. He was wearing a balaclava, but she could see those piercing, ice-blue eyes clear as day.

“He just had to cover his face, didn’t he?” grumbled Luke. “I can’t see the driver from that angle.”

“He probably wore a balaclava too,” said Farrell.

Aspen bit her lip. “Although it’s not the same car that was at the motel, it could be the same shooter. Maybe even the same driver. They’re either the jaguars or lone shifters, since Gideon likes to use loners to do his dirty work.”

“I don’t think they’re Gideon’s jaguars,” said Havana. “I think they’re cheetahs.”

Everyone glanced at her.

“Why cheetahs?” asked Tate. “You think you recognize the shooter?”

“No, but … well, it’s weird. This morning, I watched a clip on the news about a full-blooded cheetah who attacked a zookeeper. Later on, I saw a guy wearing a cap that had a cheetah’s head on it. And then I met a little girl here today who has a plush cheetah toy.”

Bailey nodded. “Then our boy has gotta be a cheetah.”

Tate raised a hand, his gaze on Havana. “You’re honestly basing your belief that the shooter’s a cheetah on the simple fact that, three times today, a cheetah somehow featured in it?”

“Well it makes sense,” said Havana.

Aspen hummed. “I’d have to agree.”

Tate gave a quick shake of his head. “Right. Well, whatever.”

Havana looked at Dawn. “I’d really like to thank the person who saved my life today.”

“I’ll take you to her.” Dawn worried her lower lip. “I shouldn’t have asked you to keep teaching the classes.”

“Don’t take on the weight of this,” said Havana. “If they hadn’t targeted me outside here, they’d have done it somewhere else, and there might not have been a healer close by like there was today.”

“She’s right,” Corbin told the cougar. “The blame’s not yours.”

“Havana, you need to be careful from here on out,” said Bailey. “Whoever was in that Charger either followed you here or knew where you’d be.”

“No one followed her,” Deke asserted, speaking for the first time. “We’d have clocked them.”

“Then someone knows my routine,” said Havana, her stomach churning.

“Now’s the time to change it,” Tate told her. “Take a different route to and from work. Switch up your schedule. And don’t go too far from home.”

“I’d already planned to take those measures,” said Havana. Although it would gall her to restrict herself, she knew it was best to stay close to the Olympus Pride so that she had their backup—especially since she could very well need the help of a healer again at some point; the pride had two.

“We should leave. First, I’ll call River and see if he can find out who that Charger is registered to,” said Tate, referring to his pride mate who was also a police officer. “It might take him a little time, because he hasn’t started his shift at the station yet.”

Havana pushed to her feet. “While you make your call, I’m going to thank the woman who saved my life.”

Afterward, they all exited the building. As Bailey hurried to her car with Corbin, Tate whispered something to Luke and Farrell, who then said their goodbyes and crossed to an SUV. Tate and Aspen stayed exceptionally close to Havana as she made a beeline for her car.

She swallowed on noticing the bloodstain on the ground. Her blood. She also noticed that Tate snarled at it, clenching his jaw so hard it had to ache.

“I’ll drive,” he declared. “I don’t want you girls alone.”

Havana frowned. “Shouldn’t you be with your bodyguards?”

“They’re going to drive in front of us. Deke and Isaiah will cover our rear.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Give me peace of mind. I can’t stop seeing the image of you collapsing to your knees with three fucking bullets in your body,” he said, looking sincerely tortured. “I need to be with you right now.”

Havana told herself to not be moved by his fear for her but, yeah, it didn’t work.

“Oh, take pity on him and hand him the keys,” said Aspen, sliding into the rear of the vehicle.

Too tired to argue with him and uncomfortable with standing out in the open after having been shot, Havana tossed him the keys. “All right. Have at it.”

His face went soft with approval. “That’s my girl.” He hopped into the driver’s seat.

Instead of riding shotgun, Havana slipped into the back of the car with Aspen. Maybe it was cowardly to not want to sit close to him, but whatever.

Tate was clicking on his seatbelt when his phone started to ring. He bucked up his hips, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and looked at the screen. He frowned and answered, “Yeah?” His body went absolutely rigid. He tapped the screen with his thumb, and then the sound of a voice filled the car.

“Did you get my message?”

Havana felt her eyes widen. Gideon.

“What message would that be?” asked Tate, his tone admirably calm given that he looked anything but.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard yet.” Gideon tutted. “I suppose you’ll find out soon.”

“Why not just tell me about this message, since you’re on the line?”

“I heard that the beautiful Miss Ramos visited a homeless shelter today.”

Tate’s free hand fisted. “She did.”

“Have you spoken to her since then?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that I heard there was a shooting in that area earlier and, well, you can never be too careful. You might want to be certain she’s alive and well.”

Tate glanced over his shoulder and held the phone closer to her. “Havana, Gideon wants to know if you’re alive and well?”

“Oh, I’m both, thanks,” she said.

Tate faced forward again. “Does that answer your question, Gideon?”

There was a long beat of silence. “I don’t know who that was, but I know it wasn’t Havana Ramos,” said Gideon.

Tate licked his front teeth. “Now, the trouble with drive-by shootings? The guy holding the gun can’t linger to make sure the deed has been done. So he misses if certain things happen. Like if the victim is taken to a healer fast enough to save their life. There’ll be no one to help you when I get my hands on you, Gideon,” Tate added, his voice deepening. “I will find out whereyou are. Then? Then you’re dead.” He rang off and hissed out a breath. “Son of a bitch called to gloat.”

“That guy so needs to meet a truly horrific demise,” said Aspen.

Tate switched on the engine. “On that we agree.”