Page 111 of Heartbreak Hero

The fucker.

Running in a crouch, he weaved in between cars and SUVs, slipping farther away from the threat.

Right about then, he wanted to stop but kept putting one foot in front of the other, hoping like hell he could get to the apartment before he passed out.

A few hours later and with some fancy hiding, he made it, but just barely.

When the door opened, he fell inward.

“Fucking hell!” Lex snarled and wrapped one burly arm around his waist to yank him inside and slam the door. “Were you followed?”

“No.”

The big, beefy guy eyed him. “Leave a blood trail?”

“Don’t think so.”

He hissed when Lex shoved him toward the broken-down sofa. He gratefully sank onto the ripped cushions while Lex locked the deadbolt.

Lifting his shirt, Adam dabbed at the wound where the bullet nicked him. “It’s just a crease.”

Lex snorted and stomped into the kitchen and returned shortly with a first aid kit. Dropping the kit down, Lex nodded to his shirt.

“Take that off.”

He did as he was told and used a wad of gauze to dab at the bloody wound. It was a lost cause and Lex was there again, pressing a clean towel to the injury.

“Here, hold this.”

He held on, leaning his head against the back of the couch.

“So, did you talk to your contact at least?” Lex asked and kneeled down next to the couch. Concern flashed in Lex’s cold, mud-colored eyes, but that was only because he was the guy’s meal ticket. When a person lived on the fringes of society, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Adam paid the rent for the tiny closet in the one-bedroom, overcrowded apartment.

“Does it look like I did?” he croaked, letting his lids slide shut.

He’d just close his eyes for one second. Happy freaking birthday to me.

Maybe then he’d wake up and this would all be a fucking dream.

One big nightmare.

Dalton

He slammed through the metal door and yanked at the Velcro holding his tactical vest in place.

“My office, now,” Ace snarled.

Dalton scowled toward the far end of the brightly lit room they called the bullpen to where his boss stood.

The man’s big shoulders filled up the doorway to the office on the far side. Fluorescent lights flooded the room and a window that lined the wall near the top of the bullpen sent a smidge of light from the Southern California moon reflecting into the room. It was the only window they’d carved into the place, which was a bunker, really. All concealed beneath the Stone Ground Brewery.

Ace had told them gathering here was temporary. Yeah, and that had been several months ago. It no longer felt short-term. Truth be told, he didn’t mind; the place Pegasus called headquarters was growing on him.

Tossing Mason, Gage, and the two FBI asshats a dark look, he stalked through the desks in the wide room and entered Ace’soffice. Reaching the far end of the large room, he dropped down into one of the vacant chairs that sat in front of his boss’ wide oak desk after Ace took a seat behind it.

That they were meeting to debrief in Ace’s office instead of the bullpen spoke volumes and he didn’t have to wait long to hear why.

“Ventura County PD reported shots fired in the vicinity very near where you were,” Ace growled at him, his booming voice cutting deep. And fuck if Dalton’s stomach didn’t sink a bit. “What happened to a peaceful meeting?”

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