Carl hadn’t meant for her to be here. He told her to stay home, to not wait up, but of course, she didn’t listen. So now, instead of a simple drop-off, he had to worry about her pacing beside him in the dimly lit alley, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “This is stupid,” she muttered. “This is how people get shot.” Carl rolled his eyes. “Relax. It’s a quick deal.” She shot him a glare. “That’s what you said last time.”

Before he could respond, a black SUV rolled up, engine humming low and threatening. The back door opened, and out stepped a guy Carl recognized—but not the one he was supposed to be meeting. His stomach sank. “Gallagher,” the man greeted, voice smooth but edged with something dangerous. “Didn’t expect company.” His eyes flicked to her, and Carl immediately tensed, stepping slightly in front of her. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, see… there’s a problem. My guy says you’ve been running your mouth. That true?” Carl’s jaw clenched. Fuck. This wasn’t a deal anymore—it was a setup. And now she was in the middle of it. The guy’s hand moved toward his waistband, and Carl didn’t think—he grabbed her wrist and ran. Gunshots cracked against the bricks as they sprinted through the alley, his grip on her tight, adrenaline slamming through his veins. They didn’t stop until they were blocks away, lungs burning.