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The men of Burnout stood in a line in front of their captures as four RCPD squad cars sped up the dirt road.

“Overkill,” Easy snorted. “Are they giving each one of them a private ride?”

Shooter smirked. “There’s some possibility that
we’re
going to be given a ride.”

“Screw that,” Easy replied. “We’re heroes,” he said sarcastically.

Shooter’s expression remained dour. “Try explaining that to
him
.”

They watched as the lead car shuddered to a stop and Rawlins’ fatty form emerged. Caleb stifled a groan.

“There goes the neighborhood,” Easy muttered. “You couldn’t have called
anyone
else?” he asked Caleb.

“I just phoned it in to the dispatcher,” Shooter told him.

“Odds are,” Caleb said, “that he heard your name mentioned over the radio call and beat feet right to us.”

Rawlins slammed the car door and without waiting for the other uniformed officers, stormed up the rutted drive. His eyes swept over the four handcuffed kids sitting on the grass, then his gaze zeroed in on Shooter. “What the hell is this?!” he demanded. His jowls shook as he bellowed.

Shooter shrugged. “Like I said, we have at least two wanted men. Possibly three. And who knows what her story is, exactly,” he said, nodding to the girl. “But I’m guessing it’ll be pretty much the same once the truth comes out.”

Rawlins gaped at him, surprise and anger warring on his face. “What
—” he sputtered but couldn’t quite find the words he was looking for. “Goddammit!” Except that one.

“Where’s the ambulance I asked for?” Shooter asked him calmly.

Rawlins glared at him. “You don’t ask me questions, boy! I ask
you
the questions! What the fuck is this? Who the fuck are they? And who the fuck do you think you are?”

Before Shooter could begin to explain, Izzy came down off the porch. She stepped past the line of Rangers and stood between Rawlins and the boys. Caleb felt no small hint of pride that she was hurting unbelievably from her impact wound but she wasn’t cowed or showing Rawlins any sign of weakness. Her shoulders were squared and her back was straight, though he imagined it hurt her quite a bit to present herself that way. “I’m Isabelle Boucher,” she told him and the other officers who were falling in behind him. “I’m a Fugitive Apprehension Agent from Denver.”

Rawlins spit on the ground in front of her. To her credit, Izzy didn’t flinch, but Caleb thought it was pretty disgusting himself.

“Fucking bounty hunter? What’s a bounty hunter doing in my county?”

Izzy jerked her thumb behind her. “Jeter Paul, the one who won’t be doing the two-step any time soon, is wanted for kidnapping and the murder of a gas station owner in Colorado. Though I’m fairly certain the kidnapping charge is going to get tossed.”

Rawlins looked from Izzy, to Shooter, to Caleb and back again. Perhaps he was calculating how many more squad cars he would need to arrest them all. “You know these assholes?” he finally asked Izzy, sweeping his arm to indicate the men behind her.

Izzy merely shrugged. “They gave me a ride.”

Rawlins’ eyes narrowed, then he turned to look at Caleb. “You can’t do this!” he shouted. “You’re suspended!”

“I didn’t ID myself as an officer. I’m just a concerned citizen.”

Easy snorted at that but otherwise kept his mouth shut.

“There’s no need to get your panties in a bunch,” Izzy declared, “just because some civilians rounded up a couple of felons for you. Think of it this way, you didn’t even have to break a sweat.”

Easy actually did laugh at that.

Rawlins jabbed a meaty finger at her. “Watch yourself, young lady,” he ordered. “You S.O.B.,” he told Caleb with equal parts fury and glee. “You’re finished. Shooting a man in the foot, smashing a girl’s face? You are fucking
done
in this town!”

“Actually
, that’s my handiwork,” Izzy replied coolly. “I shot Jeter when he charged us and almost shot me. Then I beaned his
girlfriend
there when she
actually did
shoot me.”

“Bullshit!”

Izzy lifted the hem of her shirt to reveal the nearly black bruise that covered her entire lower abdomen. A few of the officers behind Rawlins murmured in surprise and sympathy. Not even Rawlins could deny the evidence right in front of him.

“Where are your weapons?” he demanded.

“That’s my Persuader on the porch,” Izzy said with a jerk of her chin. “Also, Bonnie and Clyde’s nines. Stripped, of course.”

Rawlins directed two of the officers to the porch to collect the guns.

“I expect that Mossberg back,” Izzy told him, but the look Rawlins gave her said she’d never see that particular piece again. Izzy sighed heavily. “I really liked that gun,” she muttered.

“Let me see your ID and your carry license,” Rawlins demanded. Izzy handed them over. Rawlins didn’t even spare them a glance. He tossed them to a third officer standing beside him, then he stepped forward and reached for Izzy. Caleb, who had been content to this point to let Izzy take the lead, now stepped forward
, blocking Rawlins.

“She’s under arrest,” Rawlins told him.

“You’re not going to touch her,” Caleb replied quietly. Rawlins may have been angry but he had the good sense to take a step back. There was no mistaking the edge of violence in Caleb’s voice.

“The hell I’m not,” the older man argued. “She’s under arrest,” he repeated. “All of you are under arrest!”

“Rawlins—” Caleb began but Izzy cut him off.

“Go fuck yourself,” she snapped. “Jeter Paul is wanted by the Denver PD
and
the FBI. You can charge us, but you’ll never hold us. In fact, go ahead and haul us in. It’ll make it easier for the feds to find us… so they can hand us our medals.” Rawlins’ face darkened. “Oh, that’s right. When you book these assholes,” she said, pointing to the kids on the lawn, “the feds are going to come swooping in here, tearing up your station. So,
Sergeant,
just how much of a raging asshole do you want to appear to be when they arrive?”

Rawlins’ face went from pink to purple and he nearly shook with rage. If he hadn’t been such a raging asshole
—as Izzy had put it—Caleb would’ve almost felt sorry for him. Here was the moment that the bastard likely laid awake fantasizing about for years. He finally had nearly all of them standing before him and Rawlins was dead certain they’d committed a crime, numerous crimes probably, maybe even several felonies. The sum total of Rawlins’ most desperate late-night wishes was stretched out before him but the furious, impotent man could do nothing about it.

Caleb felt Izzy next to him before he opened his eyes. He slowly breathed in her scent and moved closer to her. He’d slept off and on all night, waking repeatedly to reassure himself that she was still there, still okay. He wondered how long it would be before he stopped needing to be reassured. Given how deeply the thought of losing her had affected him at the cabin, the sheer terror he’d felt when he’d heard the gunshot, he didn’t think he’d stop worrying any time soon. He listened to the sound of her breathing, grateful every second that she still was.

“Stop it,” he ordered quietly but firmly even though his eyes were still closed.

Izzy stirred beside him. “I’m not doing anything,” she insisted.

“I can
hear
you replaying it in your head,” he scolded. “Knock it off. You couldn’t have done anything differently, Iz. You didn’t know.”

Izzy sighed. “She’s just a kid, but still… I should’ve expected it. I should’ve been more careful.”

He frowned to himself. He understood the sentiment, but it really hadn’t been her fault. After hauling them all into the station, Caleb had gotten word that the girl had confessed to having a relationship with Jeter Paul. Knowing her parents would never approve, they’d kept it a secret for nearly a year. Apparently Romeo and Juliet’s grand plan was to rob the gas station where the girl worked. With their huge score, they’d live happily ever after in South Dakota while their cash earning interest while squirreled away in a mattress or something. Except Jeter wasn’t supposed to shoot the owner. That he’d done on the spur of the moment when the man showed up unexpectedly to retrieve that night’s deposit rather than in the morning as he usually did.

Izzy had been brooding about that turn of events all evening and into the night. Caleb knew she didn’t care that her reward had been halved now that the girl was no longer an official kidnap victim. Izzy was pissed that an innocent man died because of two
selfish-asshole teenagers. Ever since she’d heard that the girl was in on the robbery and not some victim of Stockholm Syndrome, she had been furious.

“It should’ve been a theory,” she told him. “I dismissed her as a victim too quickly.”

Caleb took hold of her hand. He’d much rather hold her, but she was still in pain and he didn’t want to hurt her. “Stop beating yourself up,” he advised. “You did everything right. None of us considered it. You’re here. She’s behind bars. Now that man’s family knows the truth. That’s the next best thing to having him back.”

Izzy squeezed his hand and sighed again.

“I wish I could just lie here forever,” she said.

“Me, too.”

She tilted her head to look at him, surprised.

Caleb realized that it was time to have the conversation he’d been dreading.
Twenty-four hours ago he would have done anything to avoid talking about it, even walk away from her for good, but now he knew he’d never be able to bring himself to leave.

“Losing you would’ve been losing
everything
,” he told her. “I avoided it my whole life, held myself back. I never wanted to feel this much for someone. It terrified me. It still does. I keep everyone away, even Shooter and the others. I couldn’t trust myself.”

“Caleb
, all that’s in the past. You—”

“No,” he said
, squeezing her hand to cut her off. “You have to know. You deserve to know what you’d be signing up for—if you want me.” He took a deep breath. This felt so much like jumping off a cliff. “I see prostitutes,” he confessed. “Just the one, now—Sioux Falls, but there were others when I was in the Army. Others in different countries.”

He didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze on the ceiling. Any look of disappointment from her would absolutely gut him.

She surprised him by saying, “I get it. You stay disconnected. So do I. I just don’t have to pay for it. It’s always no strings. And I leave after a few months, even if it’s going okay. I want to be me, but no one can handle me. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who would get me, get what I do and why I do it. I just figured I’d always be alone.”

“I understand,” Caleb told her.

“I think you’re the
only
one who can.”

Caleb sat up and turned to look down at her. As uncomfortable as it was to lay himself bare this way, Izzy was a good woman and she deserved it.

“I don’t know if I can love you,” he told her, because she should hear the whole truth. “I don’t even know if I have that in me. Maybe it got beaten out of me as a kid, or maybe I never had it at all. I might be broken, but goddammit, Izzy. I want to try. I know what losing you would feel like and I don’t know how I’d deal with it but I would never, ever ask you to change. I’d never ask you to be something you’re not. I’m not worth it, Izzy. I may never hit you, but I could still hurt you. But I’m a bastard and I know it because I don’t want to let you go.” He took another deep breath and laid it all on the line. “Say you’ll stay. Say you’ll give me a chance—
one
chance.”

Izzy could not easily raise herself up so she did the next best thing. She took ahold of Caleb’s hand and pulled him down to her. He hovered above her, bracing himself on the mattress. She cupped his face and brushed his lips with her own. She could simply have said, “Yes,” but that one word didn’t seem like nearly enough. A thousand words might not be enough. As they embraced, she felt for the buttons on the shirt she’d borrowed from him.

“Izzy, no,” he told her when he realized what she was doing. She ignored him and opened her shirt. He winced as he once again looked at the bruise. “You’re injured. I’ll hurt you,” he argued.

“No, you won’t.”

“Izzy
—”

“Touch me, Caleb. I won’t break. I already told you that.” She put his hand on her breast and held it there. Caleb’s eyes were darkening but he still looked unsure.

“I need you,” she insisted.

He hesitated for a long moment then slowly lowered his head. He gently licked her nipple. If she could have arched her back, she would have. She’d been with men who were competent, but none as skilled as the man pleasuring her now. And she knew it wasn’t because he’d had a lot of practice. In fact
, Izzy was dead certain that Caleb Barnes had never actually made love in his life. He was skilled because when they were together it was the only time he
almost
let himself go. Having sex distracted him enough to let his emotions surge close to the surface. He forgot about restraint; he forgot about control; he focused on nothing but their mutual pleasure.

Caleb could say he didn’t love
her; he could say he didn’t think he was capable, but it was bullshit. He loved her, or was starting to
fall
in love with her. He just didn’t recognize it. Izzy herself had never been in love. She hadn’t quite known what it would feel like or what to expect if it ever happened. Caleb protected her; he cared for her. For all his fears and self-doubt, he’d shown time and time again that he was enormously concerned for her. And wasn’t that love? She thought so. And for all Izzy’s fears, he’d promised to accept her the way she was. He understood her, believed in her. That—without a doubt—was love as far as she could see. It had to be.

She directed his hands to her panties and he looked up at her again. She nodded, urging him on. He slipped her underwear down over her hips and removed his own. He held himself above her, not one inch of his frame touched hers
, so determined he was not to hurt her. He sank inside her and she bit into her lower lip to keep from crying out.

“Izzy?”

“Yes,” she breathed, wrapping one leg around his hip. “God, yes.”

He seemed satisfied, ducked his head into her shoulder and thrust up inside her.

It hurt. Of course it hurt, but she wouldn’t let him know it. Life was pain. Izzy’s
job
was pain, but it had never kept her from going after what she wanted. She had far too much pride and determination and desire and grit to ever let pain dictate the circumstances of her life. Pain was not something she feared. But loneliness… On the coldest, darkest nights, Isabelle Boucher had feared she would always be alone. The thought had haunted her, to a greater extent than she’d let on to Caleb. Caleb was alone, too. He didn’t fear it, but he hated it as much as she did. He reached for her in the dark too many times for that not to be the case. But now they weren’t alone.

As Caleb dipped inside her, determined to give her pleasure and not pain, Izzy thought they were the two loneliest people in the world
, who by some miracle had found each other in the dark.

His lips brushed her ear as she neared her climax. “Tell me you’re mine, Izzy,” he whispered.

She gripped his arms and held onto him tightly. “Yes,” she told him. “Yes.”

And this time, it was enough.

The next morning, Izzy held the trunk of the Charger open while Caleb slung her duffel bag into it. As she closed the lid, he slid one hand around her waist and drew her close. “Call me,” he told her.

“I will,” she promised. “As soon as I hit town.”

Izzy had delivered the Paul cousins and Darla to the Rapid City Police Department, but her check would actually be cut from the Denver PD. As she’d been on the phone with Vernita that morning, she’d told the woman to inform the cashier to only write a check for half the amount. Caleb had waived the other half of the reward—no surprise there, she’d realized. Instead she’d asked for the check to be made out to Cash. She planned to deliver it to the family of the gas station owner to help cover funeral expenses. As she anticipated, the FBI had rescinded the kidnapping reward since Darla Hale had not actually been kidnapped. Instead, her bounty was reduced to the same as Jeter’s. It wouldn’t do much to help the family, but having lost someone suddenly herself, Izzy felt obligated to do what she could.

She gripped the car keys in her hand as she stood to face Caleb in the
driveway of his house. “Good luck,” she told him. He nodded somberly. He’d decided not to wait for the IA investigation to finish. There would likely be no criminal charges against him as the department wouldn’t want to publicly call any and all of Caleb’s prior arrests into question. They would be happy to see him leave quietly, with no pension of course. Caleb had told her he was fine with leaving and though she could tell by his tone that he wasn’t entirely happy with the circumstances, he actually was okay with walking away from the badge.

He tugged the two halves of her leather jacket together to protect her from a sudden gust of wind. “Pack winter clothes, Izzy,” he told her. “Pack
all
your winter clothes.” She grinned as he leaned down to kiss her. His mouth slanted over hers and his tongue slipped inside as easily as any other part of him. She sighed and melted against him. By the time he was done with her, he set her back on her feet. She sighed again and leaned one hip against the Charger.

“
Call me
,” he ordered.

“I will.”