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Sheltering DuneS

Acclaim for Radcly ffe’s Fiction

2010 RWA/ FF&P Prism award winner Secrets in the Stone “is a

strong, must read novel that will linger in the minds of readers long

after the last page is turned.”— Just About Write

Foreword Review Book of the Year finalist and IPPY silver

medalist Trauma Alert “is hard to put down and it will sizzle in the

reader’s hands. The characters are hot, the sex scenes explicit and

explosive, and the book is moved along by an interesting plot with well

drawn secondary characters. The real star of this show is the attraction

between the two characters, both of whom resist and then fall head over

heels.”— Lambda Literary Reviews

Lambda Literary Finalist Best Lesbian Romance 2010 features

“stories [that] are diverse in tone, style, and subject, making for

more variety than in many, similar anthologies…well written, each

containing a satisfying, surprising twist. Best Lesbian Romance series

editor Radclyffe has assembled a respectable crop of 17 authors for this

year’s offering.”— Curve Magazine

In Benjamin Franklin Award finalist Desire by Starlight “Radclyffe

writes romance with such heart and her down-to-earth characters not

only come to life but leap off the page until you feel like you know

them. What Jenna and Gard feel for each other is not only a spark but

an inferno and, as a reader, you will be washed away in this tumultuous

romance until you can do nothing but succumb to it.”— Queer Magazine

Online

2010 Prism award winner and ForeWord Review Book of the Year

Award finalist Secrets in the Stone is “so powerfully [written] that the

worlds of these three women shimmer between reality and dreams…A

strong, must read novel that will linger in the minds of readers long

after the last page is turned.”— Just About Write

Lambda Literary Award winner Stolen Moments “is a collection

of steamy stories about women who just couldn’t wait. It’s sex when

desire overrides reason, and it’s incredibly hot!”— On Our Backs

Lambda Literary Award winner Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

“weaves an intricate tapestry about passion and commitment between

lovers. The story explores the fragile nature of trust and the sanctuary

provided by loving relationships.”— Sapphic Reader

Lambda Literary Award Finalist Justice Served delivers a “crisply

written, fast-paced story with twists and turns and keeps us guessing

until the final explosive ending.”— Independent Gay Writer

Lambda Literary Award finalist Turn Back Time “is filled with

wonderful love scenes, which are both tender and hot.”— MegaScene

Applause for L.L. Raand’s

Midnight Hunters Series

“Raand has built a complex world inhabited by werewolves, vampires,

and other paranormal beings…Raand has given her readers a complex

plot filled with wonderful characters as well as insight into the hierarchy

of Sylvan’s pack and vampire clans. There are many plot twists and

turns, as well as erotic sex scenes in this riveting novel that keep the

pages flying until its satisfying conclusion.”— Just About Write

“Once again, I am amazed at the storytelling ability of L.L. Raand aka

Radclyffe. In Blood Hunt, she mixes high levels of sheer eroticism

that will leave you squirming in your seat with an impeccable multi-

character storyline all streaming together to form one great read.”

— Queer Magazine Online

“The Midnight Hunt has a gripping story to tell, and while there are also

some truly erotic sex scenes, the story always takes precedence. This is

a great read which is not easily put down nor easily forgotten.”— Just

About Write

“Are you sick of the same old hetero vampire / werewolf story plastered

in every bookstore and at every movie theater? Well, I’ve got the

cure to your werewolf fever. The Midnight Hunt is first in, what I

hope is, a long-running series of fantasy erotica for L.L. Raand (aka

Radclyffe).”— Queer Magazine Online

“Any reader familiar with Radclyffe’s writing will recognize the

author’s style within The Midnight Hunt, yet at the same time it is

most definitely a new direction. The author delivers an excellent

story here, one that is engrossing from the very beginning. Raand has

pieced together an intricate world, and provided just enough details for

the reader to become enmeshed in the new world. The action moves

quickly throughout the book and it’s hard to put down.”— Three Dollar

Bill Reviews

By Radclyffe

Romances

Innocent Hearts

Fated Love

Promising Hearts

Turn Back Time

Love’s Melody Lost

When Dreams Tremble

Love’s Tender Warriors

The Lonely Hearts Club

Tomorrow’s Promise

Night Call

Love’s Masquerade

Secrets in the Stone

shadowland

Desire by Starlight

Passion’s Bright Fury

Honor Series

Justice Series

Above All, Honor

A Matter of Trust (prequel)

Honor Bound

Shield of Justice

Love & Honor

In Pursuit of Justice

Honor Guards

Justice in the Shadows

Honor Reclaimed

Justice Served

Honor Under Siege

Justice for All

Word of Honor

The Provincetown Tales

Safe Harbor

Winds of Fortune

Beyond the Breakwater

Returning Tides

Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

Sheltering Dunes

Storms of Change

First Responders Novels

Trauma Alert

Firestorm

Short Fiction

Collected Stories by Radclyffe

Erotic Interludes: Change Of Pace

Radical Encounters

Edited by Radclyffe:

Best Lesbian Romance 2009–2011

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.:

Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love

Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions

Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games

Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery

Romantic Interludes 2: Secrets

Breathless: Tales of Celebration

By L.L. Raand

Midnight Hunters

The Midnight Hunt

Blood Hunt

Visit us at www.boldstrokesbooks.com

Sheltering DuneS

by

RADCLY f FE

2011

sheltering dunes

© 2011 By Radclyffe. all Rights ReseRved.

isBN 13: 978-1-60282-609-0

This ElEcTronic Book is PuBlishEd By

Bold sTrokEs Books, inc.

P.o. Box 249

VallEy Falls, ny 12185

FirsT EdiTion: noVEmBEr 2011

This is a Work oF FicTion. namEs, characTErs, PlacEs, and

incidEnTs arE ThE ProducT oF ThE auThor’s imaGinaTion or

arE usEd FicTiTiously. any rEsEmBlancE To acTual PErsons,

liVinG or dEad, BusinEss EsTaBlishmEnTs, EVEnTs, or localEs

is EnTirEly coincidEnTal.

This Book, or ParTs ThErEoF, may noT BE rEProducEd in any

Form WiThouT PErmission.

cRedits

EdiTors: ruTh sTErnGlanTz and sTacia sEaman

ProducTion dEsiGn: sTacia sEaman

coVEr dEsiGn By shEri (GraPhicarTisT2020@hoTmail.com)

Acknowledgments

Safe Harbor (the first in the Provincetown Tales) was one of the first

books I wrote, and at the time, my intention was to write about a

place I loved and populate it with characters I admired. I hoped to tell

a love story filled with passion and healing. I wasn’t thinking about

archetypes, or the hero’s journey, or any literary convention. I was

thinking about what made a hero, and words like honor, valor, bravery,

dedication, and sacrifice came to mind. I like to write lesbian heroes,

because heroism is a daily part of queer life, whether we are serving

our country and our fellow human beings, or living our lives, day by

day, as honestly as we can, even as we demand our right to do so. Reese

Conlon turned out to be an archetypal hero—the warrior chief whose

attributes have not changed in centuries. She is not without weakness,

or fear, or uncertainty, and she finds her strength as heroes often do, in

a woman as strong as her.

When I wrote Sheltering Dunes (book seven), I wrote a different kind

of hero than in many of my books. I usually write women of action

because I believe women need to see themselves portrayed as being in

charge, being leaders, being fearless, being capable and competent—

because we are all those things. And of course, we are far more. In

this book I had the opportunity to write a spiritual warrior, and Flynn

Edwards has been one of my most satisfying characters to explore and

develop. Like so many others in this series, Flynn came to Provincetown

to leave her past behind and to search for her future. I hope you enjoy

her journey and the unlikely love she finds, along with the return visits

of other characters from the Provincetown and Justice series. Thank

you all for continuing on the journey.

I’d like to thank my assistant, Sandy Lowe, for research support and

the many ways she finds to free me to write; author Nell Stark for being

an enthusiastic reader and a sensitive critic; Ruth Sternglantz for her

tremendous job of editing this and all my novels; Stacia Seaman, who

always brings a fresh eye and impeccable knowledge to the final edits;

and my first readers Connie, Eva, Jenny, and Paula for support during

the most difficult stage of all, the first draft.

And to Lee, who has weathered every storm, literally and figuratively,

and still provides unwavering support— Amo te.

Radclyffe, 2011

To Lee

My shelter in a storm

Sheltering DuneS

• 13 •

chapter One

Provincetown, MA

She couldn’t be late on the third morning of a new job, not when

the job was the only thing standing between her and everything she’d

escaped. Pedaling the borrowed bicycle as fast as she could down the

center of Commercial Street, weaving around parked delivery vans,

early-morning coffee seekers, and dog walkers, she sped toward the

restaurant at the far west end of town. Despite the chill coming off the

harbor at six fifteen in the morning, sweat trickled down the center of

her chest, dampening the pale blue tank top in a small circle directly

between her breasts. Wisps of hair escaped the tie she’d carelessly

wrapped around the thick waves at the back of her neck in her haste

to leave the small, nearly airless room in the sprawling rooming house

across the street from the harbor. One strand caught in the corner of her

mouth, and she jerked her head, trying to dislodge it in the wind. Her

heart beat a staccato rhythm against her rib cage. She couldn’t lose this

job. She had nowhere else to go. Here, she was safe, or as safe as she

might ever be.

She glanced down at the thrift-shop watch, the hands moving far

too quickly beneath the scratched crystal. Five minutes. She would

make it just in time. Relief flooded through her like a tender word,

unexpected and rare. She rocketed into the intersection of Standish and

Commercial at the foot of MacMillan Wharf. A white van with black

letters appeared like an apparition rising in a dream. She had one heart-

stopping second to jerk the handlebars and swerve around the front

grille, the screech of brakes and the blare of a horn piercing the early-

morning stillness. The impact startled her more than anything else, and

then she was airborne. The cool, damp air smelled of salt and seaweed,

• 14 •

RAdCLY fFE

so different from the pungent odors of trash and broken dreams on the

streets of the barrio.

v

“Hey, Flynn,” Dave called across the squad room, “are you going

to play or not?”

Flynn closed her book, keeping her finger between the pages to

hold her place, considering her answer. She’d been avoiding thinking

about the Columbus Day weekend touch football fund-raiser for a

week and a half. She ought to play. The game was a town tradition, the

proceeds went to a number of community outreach programs, and she

couldn’t avoid seeing Allie in social situations forever. Other than brief

encounters on the job, she hadn’t seen Allie since the day Allie had

been shot and Flynn had told Ash Walker that Allie needed her. Allie

had needed Ash, not Flynn. No matter how much Flynn had wanted to

be the one standing by Allie’s bedside, had wanted to be the one Allie

needed, she hadn’t been Allie’s choice. She’d never been Allie’s choice.

Allie had always been in love with Ash, and it hadn’t taken Flynn more

than seeing them together once to figure that out. So she’d walked away

and Allie and Ash had worked out their issues, just like she’d known

they would. She’d pretty much worked out her own too. She wasn’t in

love with Allie, not exactly. She might have been, if they’d seen each

other a few more times. If they’d slept together, but they hadn’t. Not

quite. The spark had been there, the possibility had been there, but the

timing had been wrong.

Flynn almost laughed. Timing seemed to be everything with her,

and she had yet to get it right. She kept almost falling in love, only

to discover she’d been too late or too love-struck to see there were

problems, time after time. When she’d come here, changing the entire

direction of her life, she’d hoped the pattern of her life would change

as well. As if that were in her control. She knew it wasn’t. Even if she

hadn’t believed that a greater plan, a greater power, was at work, she

couldn’t alter the road her life was destined to follow any more than

she already had. She was done running. This was home and she was

staying.

“I’ll be there,” Flynn called, because she couldn’t change the

facts. Not about Allie, not about herself, not about where she’d been or

where she was going.

Sheltering DuneS

• 15 •

“Good.” Dave tossed the damp rag he had used to polish the medic

unit into a bucket. “I’ve seen you run and we need a fast cor—”

An alarm blared—the computerized dispatch system signaling a

callout. Flynn dropped the book into the gear bag she carried everywhere

when on duty, jumped up, and jogged into the vehicle bay. Dave was

already climbing behind the wheel as she grabbed a radio. She dove

into the passenger seat, stashed her bag on the floor, and buckled in

as Dave roared out onto Shank Painter Road. He liked to drive, and

she didn’t mind riding shotgun. She slid the electronic tablet from the

slot on the dash and pulled up the stats on the call. The details came

up on her screen, relayed from the officer in the field to the emergency

dispatcher who had entered the data into the system.

She read them out. “Standish and Commercial. Vehicle versus

bicycle. Two injured. Police on scene.”

“I still think the town oughtta close Commercial to vehicular

traffic during the season,” Dave muttered, swinging onto Bradford.

“It’s amazing we don’t get more of these.”

They were two minutes away, and Flynn quickly logged in the

details on her tablet. “The next few weeks are going to be crazy, what

with Women’s Week coming up and then Fantasia right after that.

Hopefully this isn’t just the first of many.”

Dave pulled in next to several police cruisers angled haphazardly

across the four-way intersection, light bars strobing and radios

squawking. Onlookers crowded the sidewalks and uniformed officers

directed them back. One officer was taking a statement from the driver

of a white catering van stalled in the center of the intersection, and

two more flanked a person lying on the ground. Even from a distance,

Allie was easily recognizable as one of the officers with the injured

individual—her ebony hair, gathered in a twist at the back of her neck,

and her statuesque body were impossible to miss.

“I’ll check the pedestrian,” Flynn said. “You clear the driver.”

“Got it.”

Flynn jumped down from the cab, unlocked the side compartment

on the medic unit, and pulled out the red field-trauma kit. As she jogged

over to the scene, Allie looked up, and the beauty of her dark soulful

eyes was like a kick in the chest. Painful and exhilarating. Allie smiled

and said hi with a hint of Southern drawl, and Flynn smiled back. No

point in avoiding the truth. Allie was Allie, gorgeous and sexy without

ever trying. Fate had made another decision for her, bringing her face-

• 16 •

RAdCLY fFE

to-face with Allie’s irresistible charm. Why fight it? Better just to let

another piece of the past go, even if another part of her heart went with

it. “Hi, Allie.” Flynn deposited her kit on the ground and squatted

next to the victim, a young woman, who lay motionless on her back

in the street. The woman, in jeans and a blue tank top, appeared to

be in her early twenties, dark-haired, Hispanic maybe, with nutmeg

skin, bold dark brows, a strong nose, and a wide, full-lipped mouth.

Right now, her lips were pale and her coal-dark eyes unfocused and

stunned. Flynn reached for her BP cuff and glanced at Allie. “What do

we have?”

“She was on a bicycle,” Allie said, “and she and the van over

there met up in the middle of the intersection. According to the driver,

he clipped the rear of the bike and she went over the handlebars.

She was conscious when we arrived and moving all fours, but she’s

disoriented.”

While Allie talked, Flynn wrapped the cuff around the young

woman’s right bicep, noting a tattoo of a heart with a knife thrust

through it high up on her deltoid. She leaned over so the girl could see

her face. “Hi. I’m Flynn, a paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”

The girl didn’t answer.

Dave knelt down across from Flynn and smoothly slid a cervical

collar around the young woman’s neck, securing it with the Velcro tab.

“Driver’s okay. Shook up. How we doing over here?”

“Ninety over sixty,” Flynn said as the digital readout on the blood

pressure cuff settled. “Confused, but no apparent loss of consciousness.”

She tried again. “Hey, can you tell me your name? Do you remember

what happened?”

The young woman muttered, “Mi—Mica. I’m Mica.” She

struggled, twisting from side to side, trying to get up. “I have to get to

work. I’m going to be late.”

“Don’t try to move.” Flynn rested her fingertips lightly against the

girl’s shoulder. Just that little bit of pressure was enough to keep her

down. She set her stethoscope onto the bare skin of Mica’s chest above

the scooped neck of her tank top and listened to her heart and lungs.

Everything sounded good, and she tossed the stethoscope back into her

box. When she looked down, the girl’s dark eyes were focused on her,

clear but wary. “Can you tell me where you hurt?”

“Nowhere. I’m fine. I have to go.” Mica looked past the blonde

with the concerned gaze and gentle hands to the circle of uniformed

Sheltering DuneS

• 17 •

officers surrounding her. A swell of panic flooded her throat. She

couldn’t afford to be hurt—she had no insurance and almost no money.

Worse, she couldn’t afford to be noticed, not by anyone, but especially

not by the police. She needed to go to work. If she missed work, she

could lose her job. Her boss hadn’t wanted to hire anyone so late in

the season, but she’d promised to stay all winter and work for partial

wages if she had to. She needed the job. She needed to stay anonymous,

unknown, unnoticed. She tried to pull the blood pressure cuff off her

arm. “Please. I’m fine. I have to go.”

“Whoa, take it easy.” The paramedic—Flynn?—had a deep voice,

calm but commanding. “You need to be checked out. We’re going to

transport you to the hospital in Hyannis.”

“No!” The panic turned to terror. She’d worked so hard to

disappear—she couldn’t surface in the system now. “No! I’m fine. I

don’t want medical treatment.”

“You’ve got a bump on your head,” Flynn said, “and a scrape on

your shoulder that need evaluation.”

“I’m not going to any hospital.” Details were coming back to her

now—the wild bike ride, the white van in the intersection. The time.

The time. She tried to turn her head to see what had happened to her

landlady’s bike. God, hopefully it wasn’t trashed. She didn’t have the

money to replace it. “What time is it?”

Flynn frowned. “A little after six thirty.”

“Dios, I have to go. I’m going to lose my job.”

“You’ve been in an accident. It’s not your fault. You’re not going

to lose your job because of it.”

Anger replaced the terror. “You don’t know that. You don’t know

anything about me.” Mica pushed herself up. Her head swirled, and she

swallowed back a wave of nausea. “You can’t take me anywhere if I

refuse.”

“You’re right,” Flynn said, still sounding calm, still patient. “We

can’t. But you need to be examined.” Her handsome face tightened in

concentration. “How about if we take you to the local clinic. If the docs

say you don’t need to go to the hospital, we won’t go.”

“I can’t,” Mica exploded. “I’ll lose my job.”

“Okay, okay,” Flynn said, gently squeezing Mica’s arm. “How

about this—tell me where you work. I’ll call them myself and explain

what happened. Will you come with us if I talk to your boss and make

sure you’re not going to lose your job?”

The other paramedic cleared his throat as if he was trying to

• 18 •

RAdCLY fFE

interrupt or get Flynn’s attention, but she ignored him, her eyes steady

on Mica’s. Something about the way she spoke, the way she looked,

made Mica almost believe her, even though she knew better. People in

authority said what they wanted you to believe and then did whatever

they pleased. She knew better than to trust her. “Why should you

care?”“Why shouldn’t I?” Flynn murmured softly.

Mica laughed, bitterness making her throat burn. “You don’t know

me. What do you want?”

“I want to be sure you’re all right.” Flynn’s eyes, a crystalline

blue, darkened like the storm clouds rolling in over the bay. “Look, I

don’t want to argue with you. I just want to take care of you. Let me and

my partner take you to our unit and get you settled, and I’ll stand right

there and call your boss. You can listen to everything I’m saying.”

One of the cops leaned down, a woman so beautiful she ought

to be a model in some kind of magazine. “Flynn, we can take care of

notifying her boss. Just get the information for us.”

“No,” Flynn said, still holding Mica’s gaze. “I’ll do it.”

The cop sighed. “Ever the crusader.” She squeezed Flynn’s

shoulder in a strangely intimate way, and Flynn’s face changed for a

second, as if the touch were painful.

“I want to talk to my boss,” Mica said.

Flynn’s mouth flickered and she smiled. “Are you always so

stubborn?”

“None of your business.”

“Fair enough. Dave, get the gurney.” Flynn started to pack up her

kit. “You got a deal. I’ll call him, explain the situation. And you can talk

to him after. Agreed?”

“Like I’ve got a choice?”

“You do have a choice,” Flynn said seriously, as if she somehow

knew that mattered. “I just want you to make a good one and not put

yourself at risk, okay?”

Mica couldn’t look into her eyes anymore. If she did, she might

start believing this stranger really meant what she said, and she knew

better. People didn’t really care about each other, even when they were

supposed to, but for sure not about an outsider. What did this stranger

know about her, know about risk? She couldn’t let herself be tricked

into believing that anyone was going to care about her. It’d taken her

long enough, but she’d learned. Now she knew better. The only person

Sheltering DuneS

• 19 •

she was ever going to trust again was herself, even if it meant being

alone for the rest of her life.

“Here we go,” Dave said, positioning a backboard on the ground

next to Mica.

Flynn said, “We’re just going to slide you onto a backboard and

then onto the stretcher so we can move you over to our unit. Let us do

all the work. Just relax as much as you can.”

“Just do it,” Mica snapped.

“One, two, three,” Flynn counted, and Mica felt herself being

lifted with arms beneath her shoulders and legs. Then she was on

the backboard and straps were tightened across her chest and pelvis,

trapping her. She wanted to struggle. She wanted to tear the restraints

away. She hated to be held down.

“Hey,” Flynn said softly. “It’s okay. We just don’t want you to

roll off. As soon as we get into the unit, I’ll loosen the straps. Can you

handle that?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Mica struggled to calm her breathing, telling

herself she wasn’t a prisoner, these people weren’t going to hurt her.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she pretended they

weren’t there.

Then she was being rolled over the bumpy surface of the street

to the yawning mouth of a medical van. Again she was lifted, and this

time placed on a bench along one side of the van. She tried to raise her

head again, wanting to find the blonde—Flynn. The panic wasn’t so

bad when she could see her.

Flynn pulled her cell phone from her belt. “Are you okay? I’m

gonna climb out so I can get a good signal.”

“Fine. Just get on with it already.”

“What’s the number?” After Mica reeled off a familiar-sounding

number, Flynn hopped out of the unit and punched in the digits, trying

to place the establishment. Ten seconds later, a man answered.

“Shoreline.”

“This is Flynn Edwards, a paramedic here in town. One of your

employees was in a traffic accident on her way to work. Mica.” Flynn

realized she didn’t know the girl’s last name.

“Christ,” the guy said, “is she okay?”

“We’re taking her to the clinic. She was worried about missing

work. She doesn’t want to go with us if she’s going to lose her—”

“Tell her to get her butt over to the clinic and get checked out.

• 20 •

RAdCLY fFE

Have her call me later so I know when she’ll be able to come back to

work. I’ve gotta go call in a sub now—we’re swamped. Big breakfast

crowd.”

“She wants to talk to you, but if there’s no problem—”

The guy sighed. “Jesus. Just take her where you need to take her.

Her job will be here when she gets back. I gotta go.” And he hung up.

Flynn pocketed the phone and climbed into the back of the unit.

She squatted down next to Mica. “He says your job is okay. He had to

call someone in for you.” She signaled Dave to go ahead and pulled the

doors closed. “We’ll be at the clinic in just a few minutes.” She leaned

forward into the front of the cab and grabbed her tablet. “What’s your

last name?”

The girl hesitated, and for a minute, Flynn thought she wasn’t

going to answer.

“Butler,” the girl said finally.

Flynn filled it in. “Address?”

“606 Commercial.”

“Is there someone you want me to call?”

When the silence grew heavy, Flynn shifted her gaze from the

tablet to the girl on the stretcher. She was obviously in pain—her

jaw was clenched and her eyes narrowed, as if holding back any sign

of weakness. Her fingers were closed in tight fists. “Mica? Is there

someone you want me to call for you?”

“No,” Mica said in a flat, hollow voice. “No one.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 21 •

chapter twO

Reese walked into the bathroom, a white fluffy towel in her

hands, just as Tory stepped out of the shower.

“I thought you were feeding Reggie.” Tory smiled, her eyes

holding a question.

“I was.” Reese pointed to the egg smear in the middle of her faded

USMC T-shirt. “We finished everything, even the bananas, which we

have suddenly decided are more fun to spit out than swallow.”

Tory laughed. “Did we suddenly say why?”

“Oh yes.” Reese nodded solemnly while holding up the bath sheet.

“Yucky.”

Still laughing, Tory turned so Reese could drape the towel around

her shoulders. “Do I need to take over now and give her another

bath?”“Nope.” Reese pulled Tory back against her chest. “Kate came

early to get her. Reggie’s off with Grandmoms and we’re all alone.”

“Really.” Tory shivered slightly, pulling the towel more securely

around her torso. “The shower’s yours, then. I’ll go get dressed.”

“In a hurry to get rid of me?” Reese nuzzled Tory’s damp auburn

hair, inhaling the coconut vanilla scent that was so distinctly Tory.

“When was the last time we were alone?”

“I don’t remember,” Tory murmured, arching her neck to give

Reese better access. “But we have a plane to catch in an hour and a

half.”“Mmm. Plenty of time.”

“Darling, I’m going to get you all wet.” Tory skimmed her mouth

along the edge of Reese’s jaw.

“I’m not complaining.” Reese cradled Tory’s breasts through the

towel, gently caressing as she dried her. Tory tightened her butt into

• 22 •

RAdCLY fFE

Reese’s crotch and Reese rumbled low in her throat. “That’s no way to

take my mind off how good you feel.” She rubbed Tory’s nipple through

the soft cotton, her pulse soaring when the round peak hardened against

her palm. She stroked lower over the damp bare skin of Tory’s abdomen

and feathered her fingers through the delta between Tory’s thighs.

“Reese,” Tory pressed her hand over Reese’s, cupping herself with

Reese’s fingers, “the time. Our appointment with Wendy, remember?”

“I’m the sheriff. We won’t get held up at the airport.” Squeezing

gently between Tory’s legs, Reese nipped at Tory’s earlobe. “We

don’t usually have morning time without the baby. I want to take

advantage.”

Tory spun in Reese’s arms, wrapped an arm around Reese’s neck,

and let the towel fall to the floor. “I’d say you’re taking advantage of

me.” “Maybe so.” Reese kissed Tory’s throat and slid her fingers down

Tory’s belly and over the slick, hot folds between her thighs. “Maybe

you should call a cop.”

Tory opened her legs and tilted her hips, inviting Reese to enter.

Her breath caught as Reese filled her. “I would,” Tory gasped, slowly

riding Reese’s fingers up and down, “but I happen to know the sheriff

is busy right now.”

Reese pressed her cheek to Tory’s, losing herself in the heat of

Tory’s body and the silken glide of skin over skin. Tory’s quiet sighs of

pleasure, the scratch of Tory’s nails over the top of her hand as she thrust

a little harder, a little deeper, eclipsed all concerns of planes, schedules,

or any other obligation beyond making Tory come. This moment was

everything. With Tory in her arms, with Tory holding her inside, she

knew exactly who she was and where she belonged. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Tory said, her voice low and husky. “And you’re

going to make me come.”

“I want you to. I need you to.” Reese bit down gently at the base of

Tory’s neck, not hard enough to leave a mark, just hard enough to make

Tory tighten around her inside.

“Oh God,” Tory whispered, shuddering in Reese’s arms.

Passion coated Reese’s fingers. Firm hot muscles gripped, pulsing

with life and power. Tory bucked in her arms, the thrust of her thigh

stroking Reese’s clitoris through the thin cotton of her boxers. Reese

moaned against Tory’s throat. “You make me so damn hot.”

“Good.” Tory jerked. “Oh damn, I’m going to come right now.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 23 •

“You come for me, baby,” Reese whispered. She backed up a step,

pulling Tory with her, and leaned her ass against the counter so she

wouldn’t fall down. Nothing made her come harder or faster than Tory

coming in her arms. Her hips spasmed. Close now. So damn close. She

tried to keep her rhythm, wanting Tory to have everything she needed,

but her mind was blurring, her control slipping. “I’m right with you.”

Tory cried out, gripping Reese’s wrist so hard she’d probably

leave a bruise. Reese groaned, her thighs shaking, pleasure detonating

in her depths.

“Oh my God,” Tory murmured again, leaning bonelessly against

Reese’s chest. “I don’t know how you do that to me.”

“Do what?” Reese rested her chin on Tory’s shoulder, breathing

hard.“Make me come like it’s the first time, every time.”

Reese chuckled. “Always feels like the best time, every time. Hell,

my head is ringing.”

“Darling,” Tory muttered, dragging herself from Reese’s embrace,

“that’s my phone.”

“Any chance you can ignore it?” Reese grabbed a robe from the

back of the door and handed it to Tory. “You’re off today, remember?”

“I know, I know,” Tory called as she rushed into the bedroom.

“Hello? Dr. King.”

Reese followed and leaned against the doorway. Across the room,

Tory juggled her cell phone in one hand as she shrugged into the robe.

Her hair was wet and tangled, her breasts flushed and still tight-nippled

from her recent orgasm. Her shoulders and arms were muscled from

her daily rowing, her toned abdomen slightly rounded, her thighs tight.

She was beautiful. Looking at her made Reese’s chest so full she could

barely breathe.

“All right. I’ll be right there.” Tory tossed her phone onto the bed

and gave Reese an apologetic smile. “I’ve got to make a stop at the

clinic. Nita is busy with someone in heart failure and the paramedics

are bringing in a trauma patient. I’m sorry. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“That’s okay. We’ll catch a later flight.” Reese strode to the closet

and pulled out a button-down navy blue shirt. “We can call Wendy’s

office from the clinic.”

“We could wait until next month,” Tory said hesitantly.

“No, we can’t.” Reese stripped off her egg-stained T-shirt and

tossed it toward the hamper on her way to Tory. She had been reluctant

• 24 •

RAdCLY fFE

at first, worried and a lot scared. But Tory wanted this, and now, so did

she. Grasping Tory’s shoulders gently, she kissed her. “The thermometer

says today is the day. We’re going to Boston to make a baby.”

Tory wrapped her arms around Reese’s waist and pressed her face

to Reese’s chest. “Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”

“I seem to recall something about that.” Reese kissed the top of

Tory’s head. “I love you back. So, you ready to do this?”

“More than ready.” Tory smiled. “Let’s go take care of business.”

v

“You said you were going to take off the straps,” Mica said,

gripping the sides of the stretcher as the vehicle swayed around a corner

and accelerated. She didn’t really feel as if she was going to fly off the

stretcher, but holding on to something made her feel more in control.

Flynn squatted beside her, fiddling with the intravenous line she had

inserted into Mica’s right wrist. Her dark blond brows were drawn down

in a frown, her lids—layered with long, thick blond lashes—curtained

her eyes. She couldn’t see Mica staring at her, so Mica stared. Flynn

was good-looking in a crisp, Anglo kind of way—arched cheekbones,

wide jaw, squarish chin with a tiny dent. Thin, narrow nose. She

reminded Mica of the white girls who came from uptown to hang out

in the rough bars of the barrio and flirt with dangerous boys. A couple

of them had even flirted with dangerous girls. The first time a skinny

redhead with perky breasts, bare midriff, and two-hundred-dollar jeans

had flirted with her, offering to buy her a drink in exchange for a ride

on Mica’s motorcycle, Mica had laughed it off. She’d been afraid her

homies would somehow sense the way her stomach twisted and she

got all hot inside when the girl had smiled at her with just the tip of her

soft pink tongue tracing over her full lower lip. Watching the redhead’s

tongue slide over the rosy surface, she’d gone liquid in places she never

did when Hector touched her. She’d feared what Hector would do if

he even suspected she enjoyed the Anglo girl’s attention—less afraid

for herself than for the girl. So she’d turned away, straddling Hector’s

lap at the bar instead, making a show of kissing him. But that night in

the small alcove off the living room where she slept behind a blanket

tacked to the archway, she’d thought about that redhead and her nipples

had tingled and she’d gotten wet. When she woke in the morning,

aroused and uncomfortable, she’d made herself come thinking about

the redhead’s tongue moving in slow motion over her pussy.

Sheltering DuneS

• 25 •

Flynn made her think of those rich girls with her clear, flawless

skin and handsome face, but she was nothing like them, not really. Flynn

looked at her with calm, certain eyes—eyes that asked for nothing.

Those other girls had taunted and teased and flirted, all the while

flaunting their privilege and fleeing back to their safe neighborhoods in

their expensive cars as the night grew dark and perilous. She’d never

slept with the redhead. She’d never slept with any of them. But she’d

secretly wanted to.

“I never said I’d take the straps off, but I can loosen them,” Flynn

said, reaching for the buckle on the nylon belt across Mica’s chest. She

released that one, then the one across her hips. “Dave is a good driver,

but I don’t want you getting dumped on the floor. Is that better?”

Mica’s tank had pulled up, and her bare stomach tingled where

Flynn’s fingers had brushed over her skin. No one had touched her in

months, and those hands had been rough and hurried. Not careful and

caring, like these.

Mica tried to turn her face away, afraid Flynn, with her piercing

blue eyes, would see too much. “This thing on my neck is worse than

the straps. Can you take it off?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I think your neck is okay, but I don’t want to

take any chances until Dr. King clears you.”

With every passing second, Mica’s mind cleared and the churning

in her midsection grew. She knew what these clinics were like—cold,

impersonal, harried places where the sick and the injured were an

inconvenience at best, targets for the frustrations and disappointments

of others at worst. She would be sucked back in when she was so close

to being free. What could she say to make Flynn let her go? “I can’t

pay.”“Do you have any insurance?”

Mica laughed mirthlessly. “Do I look like I have insurance? I can’t

pay for this. You’re not helping me by forcing me to do this.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’ll talk to Dr.

King. There are ways to—”

“No. I don’t want you to talk to anybody. I’ll take care of things,”

Mica snapped. The last thing she needed was someone else asking

questions about her. “You’ve already made enough trouble.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m overstepping,” Flynn said softly, and

the concern in her voice softened the edges of Mica’s anger.

“Never mind,” Mica said. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’ll handle

it.”

• 26 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Okay. Whatever you want.” Flynn squeezed her forearm lightly.

“We’ll get you checked out, you can call your boss, and Dr. King’s

office manager—Randy—can sort out the financial stuff.”

Mica grimaced. As if anything could be that simple. “Sure.

Whatever.”

The ambulance slowed, made another turn, and crunched over

gravel, finally stopping. The siren died with a lingering wail that echoed

the ache in Mica’s chest.

“We’re here,” Flynn said. “I’ll stay as long as I can. If we get

another call, I’ll have to leave.”

“I don’t need you to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” Flynn said.

The doors swung open, and bright sunlight streamed into the

back of the ambulance. Mica blinked, tears blurred her vision, and a

large dark shape loomed in the doorway. Hector! She jerked, her heart

pounding erratically, and yanked at the straps imprisoning her. She

must have made a sound, because Flynn gripped her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s all right. Does something hurt?”

Mica wet her lips as the man climbed into the van. He might not

hurt her right away, but if Flynn— His features became clearer. The

other paramedic. Not Hector. Mica took a shuddering breath.

“Mica?” Flynn asked.

“Everything’s fine.”

Maybe if she said it enough times, it would one day be true.

Sheltering DuneS

• 27 •

chapter three

The sky whirled dizzyingly over Mica’s head as Flynn and the

big man slid the stretcher out of the van. The collapsible legs

clanked down with a jolt, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Her body shook as the paramedics maneuvered her across the uneven

surface, stones crunching beneath the wheels with the snap of bones

breaking. With her neck held immobilized by the wide stiff collar, her

vision was limited, but if she tightened her belly and lifted her shoulders

she could see a little bit in front of her. The first time she tried, the

pounding in her head got worse but she felt less imprisoned, and that

made the pain worth it. The second time, her stomach somersaulted. A

police cruiser was parked next to the stone steps leading up to the door

of a low-slung gray building that must be the clinic.

“Why are the cops here?” Mica wiggled her arm out from

underneath the restraining straps and yanked on the buckle. “I didn’t do

anything. I’m not going in there.”

“Hold up a second, Dave.” Flynn hurriedly moved up the side of

the stretcher until she was peering down at Mica. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Let me up.”

“I’m going to release the straps,” Flynn said, “but you have to

promise—”

“Flynn,” Dave said, his gravelly voice holding a warning.

“It’s okay,” Flynn said in his direction, her eyes asking for a

promise Mica didn’t want to make. “The straps are bothering her. She

won’t try to jump off.”

Flynn said it as if she believed Mica wouldn’t bolt. And Mica

wasn’t certain of that at all. Being questioned and probed by strange

doctors was bad enough, but if the police were here, she’d have to run.

Somehow.

• 28 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Don’t make me do this,” Mica whispered. She never asked anyone

for anything, not even when silence only brought her more pain, but she

asked Flynn. Maybe because Flynn let her search her eyes for a lie, a

lie she couldn’t find. The word was unfamiliar to her, but she said it

anyhow. “Please. You don’t know…”

Flynn leaned closer, so close a cool draft of mint and cedar drifted

over Mica’s face. “Whatever you’re afraid is going to happen to you in

there is not going to happen. No one is going to hurt you. I promise.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

“Yes, I can. I know these people.” Flynn lightly squeezed Mica’s

hand. “These doctors are great. You can trust them.”

Mica tightened her lips, refusing to argue when the woman was

obviously clueless. Flynn had no idea who she was or what she might

have done. Why did Flynn just assume she was good, or innocent?

What kind of person thought that way? “You’re crazy.”

Flynn smiled. “I’ve been told that before. But I’m harmless.”

“Yeah, right.” Mica tried to settle her breathing, tried to tamp down

the panic. The more she protested, the more questions she was going

to raise in people’s minds. Maybe the best way not to draw attention to

herself was just to go along with what had to be done. She could do this.

She’d done harder things. She could lie her way through if she had to.

She’d gotten away from tougher situations than this. One thing was for

certain. She wasn’t counting on Flynn or anyone else for help. And she

didn’t plan on trusting anyone. “Okay.”

“No matter what happens,” Flynn said, “it’s going to be all

right.”Mica didn’t answer. She recognized a lie even if Flynn didn’t.

v

Philadelphia, PA

Hector Guzman stretched out his arm along the back of the sofa and

punched in a number on his burn phone with his thumb while watching

the girl kneeling between his legs suck on his cock. She was one of the

new girls, paying her respects. She was fifteen, maybe sixteen, and as

good with a knife as she was with her mouth, which was pretty damn

good. She had all the moves—she knew what to do with her lips and

her tongue and her hands—but his balls felt numb as ice. He ought to

be feeling the tension about now, she’d been working him over for a

Sheltering DuneS

• 29 •

good five minutes, but his hard dick might have been wood for real. He

listened to the ringtone, frustration fueling his temper. He didn’t need

his cock to turn on him too. “Suck it, bitch.”

“Yo, boss,” his senior lieutenant Carmen said over the air.

Hector sighed inwardly. Maybe the diversion would get his cock

back on track. “What’s the word on the shipment?”

“Everything’s set for the transfer tonight.”

“Make sure we have plenty of backup. Tell them to get there early

and hide well.” He gripped the girl’s black hair in his fist. Thick and

long like Mia’s, but not as soft. “I don’t trust these Russians not to

double-cross us.”

“You got it, boss.”

“What about the other thing?” As soon as Hector asked the

question, Mia’s face took shape in his mind. When he looked down,

he didn’t see the straining, tear-filled eyes of the young initiate, but the

dark, fathomless eyes of the one woman he had never really owned. His

ass tightened and pressure built in his balls. He gripped the back of the

girl’s head harder, forcing her mouth up and down his cock.

“Nothing for sure,” Carmen said. “We’ll find her, though. Our

friends put out the word.”

“Soon,” Hector grunted, his hips rising and falling as he forced

his cock in and out of the hot, wet throat. Mia. His woman. His. No one

walked out on him. He twisted the silky hair in his fingers, felt his cock

swell in Mia’s mouth. She moaned, a desperate choking sound, and he

came with a harsh groan. Pumping into the girl’s throat, he growled,

“Find her. The bitch is mine.”

v

“Can you radio our twenty?” Flynn said as she and Dave

maneuvered the stretcher into the empty clinic waiting room. Regular

patient hours didn’t start for another two hours. “I’ll take her back.”

“Got it,” Dave said and went back outside.

Flynn braced her arms on either side of the stretcher and leaned

over, looking down at Mica. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve got a headache. A little one.”

“Everything else feels okay?”

“It’s kind of hard to tell, considering I can’t move anything.”

Flynn laughed softly as she guided the gurney down the hall on

the far side of the vacant reception desk. “Good point.”

• 30 •

RAdCLY fFE

The doors to the examining rooms on either side of the hall

stood open, the tables covered with crisp white sheets, instrument

trays gleaming. Flynn wheeled the stretcher into the treatment room

and parked it next to the examining table in the middle of the bright,

impersonal space. “I’ll go find Dr. King.”

“Wait.” Mica grabbed Flynn’s sleeve. “You’re leaving?”

Flynn stopped, acutely aware of Mica’s hand on her arm. Mica’s

tough façade had slipped a little bit, and a note of panic in her voice

bled through her usual bravado. She was tough, defensive, obviously

used to fending for herself and depending on no one, but she was also

hurt and scared. Flynn was used to seeing people who were hurt and

scared. Her job was about more than just rendering emergency care

and transporting the sick and the injured. Part of what made the job

satisfying for her was being able to ease some of that pain and suffering.

All the same—her interactions with patients were limited, which was

exactly what she wanted. She wasn’t part of their lives. For a few

critical moments in the midst of intense and often terrifying situations,

she had the opportunity to make a difference, but there was very little

chance for her to do any harm. And that mattered most of all. She’d

found the distance she needed in this work, but she was having trouble

maintaining the comfortable barriers with Mica. Mica’s belligerent

independence in the face of what had to be a frightening and painful

experience tugged at Flynn’s heart. She wanted to comfort her, despite

all kinds of warning bells blaring in her head.

“I’m just going to find one of the docs,” Flynn said. “I’ll be right

back.”Mica dropped Flynn’s arm and her face took on a remote, shielded

expression. “Whatever.”

“I’ll be right back.” Flynn walked down the hall and glanced in

the open door of Dr. King’s office. Reese Conlon sat at the big oak

desk, her feet propped on one corner, the chair tilted back, and her

eyes closed. That explained the cruiser out front. The sheriff must’ve

driven her wife to the clinic. Like all first responders, she could sleep

anywhere. Flynn backed away.

“She’s in with Nita in one.”

“Thanks. Sorry to wake you.”

Reese dropped her feet to the floor and sat forward, her blue eyes

alert, as if she hadn’t been asleep seconds before. “Anything I need to

know?”

“I don’t think so. Allie and Bri were on the scene.” Flynn didn’t

Sheltering DuneS

• 31 •

see any need to tell her something felt off, not about the accident, but

about Mica. Mica was scared out of proportion to what had happened.

She was hiding something, but it was only a feeling. And for some

reason, Flynn felt protective of her.

“Good enough.” Reese leaned back and closed her eyes again.

Flynn walked back down the hall and tapped on the door to

treatment room one. A few seconds later Tory King slipped out. Not

that long ago, the doctor had been one of the patients Flynn had been

called to see, and since then Flynn had regularly transported patients

to the clinic. She liked and trusted both Tory King and Nita Burgoyne.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, Doc. Just wanted to let you know I put the

patient in two.”

“What’s the situation?” The dark green sweater Tory wore made

her eyes even greener than usual, although right now they were dark

with worry. The patient in one must be in trouble.

“She’s stable.” Flynn gave her a quick recap. “I can stay with her

if you’re busy right now.”

Tory glanced at the closed door. “Nita is with Ned Framingham.

Congestive heart failure—maybe secondary to an MI. He’s going to

need transport to Hyannis as soon as we get him stable. Can you take

him or should we call for another unit?”

“I’ll radio the base and tell them. We’re already here.”

“Great. Let me see to your patient, then.”

“I told her I’d stick around,” Flynn said, “if you don’t mind.”

Tory paused. “You know her?”

“No,” Flynn said quickly. “She’s just…She didn’t want to come. I

think she’s kind of on her own. I sort of promised her…”

“Of course. As long as she’s all right with you in the room, I’m fine

with it.” Tory smiled. “You’re pretty good at this small-town stuff.”

Flynn flushed. She didn’t think anything was further from the

truth. “Let me just advise dispatch of the pending transport and I’ll be

right in.”

A few seconds later she slipped into the room and moved just

close enough to the stretcher so Mica could see her. Tory bent over her,

listening to her chest with her stethoscope. Mica was pale, her dark eyes

wide, the pupils dilated. She looked like a frightened animal caught in

a trap, and Flynn wanted to take her hand, to say something to soothe

her. She put both hands in her pockets and smiled what she hoped was

a confident smile. “How are you doing?”

“Just great,” Mica muttered.

• 32 •

RAdCLY fFE

Tory straightened and gently removed the cervical collar. “Don’t

move your head. I’m just going to feel the back of your neck. Tell me

if anything hurts.”

“It doesn’t,” Mica said quickly.

“Good,” Tory said mildly and continued her examination. “Any

numbness or tingling in your arms or legs?”

“No.”

“Vision problems?”

“No.”

“Head hurt? And don’t tell me no.”

Mica sighed. “Some.”

Tory smiled. “I’ll bet. You’ve got a goose egg on your forehead,

and you’ll probably have a shiner by this afternoon.”

“Yeah. Feels that way,” Mica said, and Flynn had a feeling it

wasn’t the first black eye Mica had ever had. Her stomach tightened.

She hated to see anyone in pain, psychic or physical, but Mica’s pain

and her obvious refusal to admit to it got to her more than usual. Maybe

it was just Mica’s stubborn insistence she was fine and could handle

anything when she was so obviously hurt that touched her. Or maybe it

was the way Mica had reached for her in an unguarded moment.

“Your shoulder is swollen,” Tory said, “but I don’t see any evidence

of fracture. However, to be sure, I should x-ray you.”

“No,” Mica said quickly. “It’s not broken. I know.”

“You’ve had a fracture before?”

Mica averted her gaze. “A couple.”

Flynn gritted her teeth. Mica was too familiar with trauma. The

thought of someone hurting her made her insides burn. She stepped

closer to the stretcher and gently clasped Mica’s hand. “Maybe you

should let the doctor check.”

“Maybe you should lose your superhero cape too.”

“And give up looking so cool?” Flynn smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s okay,” Mica said, her face softening. “Really. I can tell.”

Flynn rubbed her thumb over the top of Mica’s hand. “Okay. You

know best.”

“I want to check your vital signs a few more times,” Tory said. “If

everything stays the same, you should be—”

“Tory!” Nita Burgoyne pushed open the door and called, “I need

you. He’s crashing.”

“Damn,” Tory murmured, and spun away.

Through the open door, Tory’s and Nita’s raised voices carried

Sheltering DuneS

• 33 •

clearly. Blood pressure’s falling. Open the IV. Push the lidocaine…Is

his wife here?…No. Charge the defibrillator…God, Tory, he asked me

to call his minister. No time. Clear! No pulse.

Flynn would’ve known what was happening in the other room

even if she hadn’t been a paramedic. But she was. That, and more. She

crossed the hall and pushed open the door.

Tory glanced over at her, a question in her eyes.

“I’m a priest,” Flynn said.

“Then come in,” Tory said, starting chest compression. “We need

you.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 35 •

chapter fOur

Still no pulse.” Nita Burgoyne, her eyes fixed on the EKG

monitor, had her fingers over the femoral artery in the patient’s

groin. Her smooth mocha skin tightened at the corners of her mouth,

drawing her lips into a narrow line, the only sign of strain in her elegant,

composed features.

Flynn leaned over the head of the treatment table and looked down

onto the face of the dying man. He might have been forty or eighty.

Slight stubble darkened his slack jaw. Weather lines cratered his sunken

cheeks. His skin was cool and gray, his eyelids closed and unmoving.

“Almighty God, look on this your servant, lying in great

weakness…”

Tory pressed the heel of her hand to his sternum, delivering rapid

compressions. “One, two, three, four…”

“…and comfort him with the promise of life everlasting…”

“Time?” Tory called.

“Four minutes,” Nita replied. “You’ve got good perfusion here.”

Though Flynn had no holy oil, the sacrament of Extreme Unction

needed only her touch. She made the sign of the cross on the patient’s

forehead with her thumb.

“Nita?” Tory asked, her arms starting to tremble.

“From all evil, from all sin, from all tribulation…”

“Nothing,” Nita said.

“…by the Coming of the Holy Spirit…”

Tory checked the clock. “Eight minutes. Come on, Ned.”

“That it may please you to deliver the soul of your servant…”

Flynn rested her fingertips on his hand and repeated the sign of the

cross.Reese said from the doorway, “Tory, you need me to take over?”

• 36 •

RAdCLY fFE

“…mercifully to pardon all his sins.”

“Give us a second,” Tory said, never breaking her motion. “Nita,

anything?”

“Our Father who art…”

“Hold up,” Nita said, “I think I’ve got something.”

“…forgive us our trespasses…”

Tory leaned back and brushed her sleeve over her forehead. Sweat

pooled in the hollow at the base of her throat.

“…lead us not into temptation…”

“Pulse is sixty. BP a hundred palp,” Nita reported. “Nice going,

Tor.”“…deliver us from Evil…”

“How’s his rhythm?”

“…for Thine is the Kingdom…”

“Normal sinus. Occasional ectopy. His T-waves are flipped.

Definitely an MI.” Nita adjusted the IV drip. “He needs to be in a

cardiac care unit.”

“…and the glory, forever and ever…”

“Probably needs to be cathed and bypassed,” Tory said. “Flynn?”

Flynn closed her eyes. Amen. She took a breath and keyed her

radio. “Dave, we need a stretcher in here STAT.”

Tory slowly climbed down from the stool she had been using to

get proper leverage for chest compression. Her right leg seemed to fold

and she lost her balance. Flynn reached to steady her, but Reese was

there, unobtrusively cupping Tory’s elbow.

“Got you,” Reese said.

“Thanks,” Tory murmured.

“All right?”

“Fine.” Tory glanced at Reese. “Really.”

The worry in Reese’s eyes and the tender assurance from Tory

stirred a bittersweet surge of longing in Flynn’s chest. She averted her

gaze, not wanting to intrude, needing to distance herself from desires

that too often left her lonely and uncertain.

“Flynn,” Reese said, “how about I get a cruiser over here to escort

you up-Cape. Help clear traffic out.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

The rattle of wheels and clank of metal signaled Dave’s approach.

Flynn detached the plastic IV bag from the metal pole at the end of the

table, adjusted the drip to its lowest rate, and settled the bag on the sheet

covering the patient’s legs. Next she started transferring the EKG leads

Sheltering DuneS

• 37 •

from the bedside monitor to the portable unit. “It will only take us a few

minutes to get him ready.”

Tory said, “Thanks, Flynn. For everything.”

Heat suffused Flynn’s face. She’d decided when she began her

paramedic training program that the only skills she would use in the

field were medical. Her job now wasn’t to save souls, but to help save

lives. Today had been an unexpected, unavoidable situation. She could

no more not do what she had done than walk away from an accident

victim in danger of dying for want of medical care. She appreciated that

Tory didn’t question her about anything. “You’re welcome.”

The patient opened his eyes, his pupils flickering unevenly, his

gaze roving from face to face. With each second his expression became

more confused and frightened. “What…”

“It’s all right, Ned,” Nita said quickly. “We’re going to transfer

you to the hospital in Hyannis. You may have had a heart attack, but

you’re doing okay now.”

“Maggie?” he asked, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

“I tried to call your wife earlier and got her voice mail. I’ll call her

again,” Nita said firmly. “Right now you just relax.”

“What happened? I don’t remember…”

“You had an irregular heartbeat, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Am I going to die?”

“You had a rough patch, but you’re very stable now.” Nita smiled

and squeezed his arm. “Dave and Flynn will take you to the hospital.

They’ll be in touch with us if there are any problems along the way.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s serious,” Nita said gently. “But I’m telling you the truth. You

need to be in the hospital, but your chances of doing well are very

good.”“I need to see my minister.” Ned turned his head from side to side,

looking anxiously from one face to another. “I need my phone. I need

to call Father Williams.”

Tory said, “I’ll try to reach him and let him know where you are.

But we can’t really wait, Ned. I’m sorry. I want you in the hospital as

quickly as possible.”

“Please,” Ned said, his voice rising. “I need—”

“Mr. Framingham,” Flynn said, clasping his hand. His skin had

warmed, and some of the color had returned to his face. The terrible

stillness of almost-death had passed. “I’m a priest. I’ve given you last

rites. Your minister will be able to see you later.”

• 38 •

RAdCLY fFE

The shadows disappeared from Ned’s eyes. “Thank you…do I call

you Father?”

She smiled. “You can. Or Reverend. Or you can just call me

Flynn.”

“Father Flynn,” he muttered and closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Flynn,” Tory said again. “Now we really need to

move him.”

“We’re on it.” Flynn and Dave worked on opposite sides of the

treatment table, silently performing their practiced routine of transferring

patient, intravenous lines, catheters, and monitoring devices to the

stretcher.

“I’ll be across the hall,” Tory said to Reese. “I have another patient

to check, and then we can head to the airport.”

“You’re sure? Not too tired?”

Tory smiled. “Believe me, it will feel like a vacation.”

“Can I come with you?” Flynn asked over her shoulder.

“Yes,” Tory said.

“You got this, Dave?” Flynn asked. “I’ll just be a second.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll finish up and give you a holler,” Dave said.

Flynn followed Tory across the hall and into the treatment room

where they’d left Mica. Stomach sinking, she stared at the empty

treatment table.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom.” Tory turned back to the hall.

“No,” Flynn said, “she’s gone.”

“Well, damn it,” Tory muttered, standing in the doorway of the

treatment room with her hands on her hips.

“Trouble?” Reese joined them and slid her hand onto the back of

Tory’s neck.

“I don’t know. My patient seems to have disappeared.” Tory

frowned and looked at Flynn. “Did you get the sense she was going to

run?”Flynn grimaced. “No, but I probably should have. She was reluctant

to come at all, but I thought once she was here she’d be okay.”

“Who was she?” Reese asked.

“A young girl who’d been knocked off her bicycle by a car,” Tory

said. “Did you check her ID, Flynn?”

“No. I just assumed the officers on scene did. She said her name

was Mica Butler.”

“Really? She didn’t look like a Butler,” Tory said.

Sheltering DuneS

• 39 •

Flynn grimaced. Mica’s disappearance was accomplishing exactly

what Mica seemed to want to avoid—attention. “Lots of reasons for

that.”“You’re right, of course,” Tory said.

“And now she’s just gone?” Reese scanned the hall. “Maybe she’s

still here somewhere.”

“I don’t think so,” Tory said.

Dave pushed the gurney with Mr. Framingham out of the other

treatment room. “Ready to roll, Flynn.”

Flynn hesitated. “Will you let me know if you find her, Dr.

King?”

Tory nodded. “I should probably check the bathroom, but I don’t

think she’s in there.”

“Thanks.” Flynn grasped the end of the stretcher. “Okay, let’s get

Mr. Framingham to Hyannis.”

Tory pushed open the door to the bathroom. “Empty.”

“How much do you know about this girl?” Reese asked as she and

Tory checked the other rooms. Mica was gone.

“Very little, really. I was just starting to evaluate her when Ned

crashed.” Tory collected her missing patient’s chart and carried it back

to her office. She sat behind her desk, and Reese settled on a chair

in front of it. Tory scanned the intake sheets. “Flynn’s field report

doesn’t indicate anything out of the ordinary. The girl was conscious

upon initial evaluation. I don’t have the first responder’s report—that

would’ve been filled out by your people.”

“Let me find out who took the call.” Reese pulled her cell from her

front pocket. “Did you get the sense something else was going on with

her, other than the accident itself?”

“As Flynn said, she seemed reluctant to be here. She wasn’t very

forthcoming with information, but that’s not unusual with trauma

patients. They’re often confused or disoriented.” Tory replayed the

earlier scene in her mind. “There were a few things that bothered me.

She seemed to be a little too familiar with physical injury. I didn’t have

a chance to talk to her about her past medical history.”

“Domestic abuse?” Reese punched in a series of numbers. “Hey,

Gladys. It’s Reese. Can you run down who took the accident call a half

hour ago and have them call me? Thanks.”

“Abuse is certainly a possibility,” Tory said. “But her reference

to previous fractures and a black eye could have been due to an old

• 40 •

RAdCLY fFE

trauma. I thought she was being uncommunicative as a result of today’s

accident. Obviously, I was wrong. What I took to be post-traumatic

confusion was more…distrust.”

“Or guilt?”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Tory sighed. “If pushed, I’d say she was afraid of

something. I wish I’d had more time to talk with her.”

“Well, I trust your instincts. If you think something was off, then

something was.” Reese impatiently flipped her phone back and forth

in her hand. “This town is a challenging place to keep safe. Most of

the year keeping the peace is just a matter of dealing with medical

emergencies, traffic accidents, missing kids, and the alcohol-related

domestic problems that come with too few jobs and too much time.

Then tourist season hits, the population swells by a magnitude of ten,

and we’ve suddenly got a village crammed with itinerant workers,

partying teenagers, and more sophisticated criminal types.”

“You mean drugs and prostitution?”

Reese nodded. “And not just the homegrown back-room sex-

for-sale variety either. Resort towns are starting to become targets for

organized crime.”

“I can’t imagine this girl was involved in anything like that. She

seemed more like a runaway, if I had to categorize her.”

“Is she at risk physically as a result of the accident?”

“I don’t think so—probably not. My initial exam didn’t show

anything of major concern. I wanted to observe her a while, and then

Ned… I’m afraid I didn’t do a very good job with her.” Tory pushed the

chart aside, checked her watch, and stood. “Damn it. We should go.”

“Baby,” Reese murmured, putting her arms around Tory’s waist.

“You had a guy dying across the hall. Cut yourself some slack here.”

“I know.” Tory leaned into Reese’s embrace. “But just because

someone isn’t dying doesn’t mean their need isn’t just as great.”

Reese kissed Tory and drew her closer. “Nobody in the world does

this job better than you. Let me see what I can find out about her. Do

you still want to go to Boston?”

Tory kissed Reese, absorbing the heat of her body and the

surprising softness of her mouth compared to the hard strength of her

arms. “Nothing is going to change the way I feel about having another

baby with you. And I’m ready to get started.”

v

Sheltering DuneS

• 41 •

“You’ve been pretty quiet all shift,” Dave said, stuffing his gear

bag into his locker.

Flynn unbuttoned her uniform shirt, pulled it off, and folded it.

She drew a plain white shirt from her locker, put it on over her navy

T-shirt, and tucked it into her jeans. “Sorry. Not very good company, I

guess.”

Dave laughed. “Believe me, I’ll take you over Barrymore any day.

If I have to listen to him recite the latest baseball statistics for five more

minutes, I might have to kill him.”

“Yeah, and the World Series hasn’t even started yet.”

“Something’s bugging you, though, right?”

“No.” Flynn slammed her locker. She didn’t want to talk about

Mica.“Uh—about the thing with Ned—what you did.” He looked at her

questioningly, his face creased with curiosity and maybe a little hurt.

Flynn held his gaze. “I’m a priest.”

“Wow.”

She smiled. “Not exactly.”

He laughed and shook his head. “But you’re not…” He looked

uncertain. “Doing it…or whatever.”

“No,” Flynn said softly. “I’m not. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dave.”

His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t ask anything else. “Sure thing.”

Flynn headed outside and turned toward town, no destination in

mind. She needed to walk off the agitation that had her nerves jangling

all afternoon. She hadn’t expected Mica to run. She’d misjudged her or

underestimated what was really bothering her. Mica had been scared,

she knew that, and worried about her job, but something more than that

had made her run. But whatever trouble was chasing her wasn’t Flynn’s

concern. She wasn’t Mica’s priest. She wasn’t anyone’s priest.

Sheltering DuneS

• 43 •

chapter five

Reese leaned both arms on the wooden deck railing behind the

house and watched the Boston ferry skim into Provincetown

Harbor, its running lights casting bright flickering tunnels across the

inky surface of the water. A full moon rode high overhead, illuminating

the beach with the brightness of daylight. In the swath of bushes that

separated the house from the beach, silvery moonlight reflected off the

eyes of some creature rummaging in the undergrowth for dinner. Damp

night air thick with the sweet scent of kelp and the tang of sea life misted

her cheeks. Her T-shirt stuck to her chest with a combination of salty

air and sweat. Even though the night was humid, she didn’t mind the

dampness on her skin. After the desert, where the hot dry air evaporated

every drop of moisture the instant it formed, leaving her eyes gritty and

her skin sandpaper-parched, the dewy air was like a balm to burned

flesh. She straightened at the sound of footsteps behind her.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Tory said, resting her hand in

the center of Reese’s back. She circled slowly, massaging the columns

of muscles on either side of Reese’s spine.

Reese turned away from the harbor, slid her arm around Tory’s

waist, and kissed her forehead. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tory fiddled with a button on Reese’s cotton shirt. “I’m

not used to having you all to myself for a whole day. I’ll get spoiled.”

“Well, maybe we should try this again sometime, when we don’t

have to fly to Boston to be together.”

Tory laughed and nipped at Reese’s chin. “That’s a novel

suggestion.”

“Do you think the little swimmers are ready yet?”

“Nicely thawed and ready for action.”

Reese’s breath caught in her chest. The thunder in her head was

• 44 •

RAdCLY fFE

a mere fraction of the panic that had gripped her when she’d first

contemplated another pregnancy. Since then she’d had time to think,

time to be rational, time to appreciate what Tory needed. She steadied

her breathing, quieted her pulse. Nothing should interfere with this

moment, especially her fears. “I think we should head upstairs, then.

We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“In a minute.” Tory settled into Reese’s arms, looping her arms

around Reese’s hips and resting her chin on Reese’s chest. “First, do

you want to tell me what Wendy said this afternoon that’s bothering

you?”Reese stroked Tory’s hair. “What makes you think—”

“Don’t even go there.” Tory swayed, her hips notched comfortably

into Reese’s, their bodies fitting together seamlessly, as if they had

always been two parts of one whole. “Ordinarily I’d wait, because I

know you’ll tell me when you’re ready. But considering what’s on the

agenda for tonight, I think I’d better know first.”

Reese sighed and rubbed her cheek on top of Tory’s head. “Just

now, I was thinking about the desert.”

Tory stiffened infinitesimally and then relaxed again. “What about

it?” “I’m okay,” Reese said, knowing Tory would immediately worry.

She was okay. She’d been okay from the moment she’d climbed out of

the transport that had brought her home and stepped into Tory’s arms.

Sure, she had nightmares, just like every other vet. She had regrets,

guilt, and soul-deep remorse for the decisions she’d made that had

led to the deaths of others. But she had been ready for the realities of

war—she’d trained all her life for the sacrifice service demanded. She

knew the price of war and that everyone—civilians and troops—paid,

in one form or another. “Being here with you and Reggie is what gets

me through every day.”

Tory kissed her throat. “Me too. And I can’t stand it when you’re

hurting.”

“I’m not hurting.” Reese stroked the thick silky tresses and

absorbed the quiet strength she counted on every day. “Sometimes I try

to imagine what my life would have been like if I’d never met you. If I

didn’t have you. If I didn’t have Reggie.”

Tory tightened her hold. “Why?”

“Maybe to figure out how I got so lucky. Maybe just to know what

I need to do to be sure I never lose you.”

“Oh, love,” Tory murmured, pressing her mouth to the base of

Sheltering DuneS

• 45 •

Reese’s throat. “I love you. You never need to worry about me not

being here.”

“You know what I see when I think about my life without you?”

Tory trembled. “What?”

“Nothing. Silent cold darkness.”

“Darling, don’t do this to yourself. If my having a baby is going to

torture you this way—”

“No.” Reese rubbed her hands up and down Tory’s back. “It’s

not about another baby. It’s about all the things I can’t control. All the

things that I can’t guard against.”

“You are a wonderful partner, an amazing mother, and a remarkable

sheriff. You take care of all of us better than anyone I could ever

imagine.” Tory slid a hand between them and unbuttoned Reese’s shirt.

She parted the front, tugged Reese’s T-shirt out of her pants, and pushed

it up. She kissed Reese’s chest in the valley between her breasts. “I love

you. You’re the most amazing, beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Reese leaned back and gripped the railing with both hands. The

cool night air teased across her nipples and they hardened. Her thighs

trembled at the unexpected softness of Tory’s mouth against her skin.

“Tor. We’re outside on the deck.”

“It’s dark and I don’t care. You’re mine, and I’ll have you any way

I want you, when I want you. And I want you right now.”

Reese laughed. “You’re not even pregnant yet. This is going to be

fun.”Tory looked up, her eyes glittering. “You better believe it.” She

licked Reese’s nipple until Reese groaned, toying with the opposite one

at the same time.

“Tory.” Reese’s hips jerked, and she felt herself swell inside her

jeans. “You know what you’re doing to me, right?”

“Oh, I hope so.”

Tory caressed Reese’s belly and grasped the button on her jeans.

“You didn’t answer my question about what was bothering you.”

“I don’t like statistics. They don’t mean anything when you’re

dealing with one person. Hearing there’s a ninety percent chance you

won’t have the same problem you had the last time doesn’t make me

feel any better. Ten percent is way too high, Tor.”

“I know. I agree.” Tory rested her cheek on Reese’s breast. “What

else did you hear that’s worrying you?”

“Women who have had preeclampsia are likely to have it a second

time.”

• 46 •

RAdCLY fFE

“That’s true. But we’re lucky—I work with a superb doctor every

day. Nita will be watching me like a hawk over here, and I’ll be seeing

Wendy at least twice a month from the fourth month on. I promise.”

Tory popped the button on Reese’s waistband and worked her way

down to the next one. “And at the first sign of anything going wrong…”

Tory dipped her fingers into Reese’s briefs and pushed down, stopping

just over her clitoris.

Reese sucked in a hard breath. “You can’t promise—”

“Yes, I can. I know what I’m facing. I promise I won’t let anything

happen to me during this pregnancy. I won’t put you through that

again.”

Reese held on to the railing so hard she was afraid she’d crack the

boards. Her knees were wobbling. She was going to drop any second.

“I need you.”

Tory played her free hand up and down Reese’s hard abdomen,

then gripped the waistband of her jeans and tugged. “I know. I need you

too. Right now I need you to be all mine.”

“I’m always all yours.” Reese grasped Tory’s wrists before she

lost all focus. “Let’s go inside. Time to get the little swimmers on their

way.”“Mmm.” Tory leaned into Reese. “Rumor has it a well-timed

orgasm will give them a running start.”

“That can be arranged.”

Tory laughed. Reese took her hand and walked out of the shadows

into the safety of home.

v

Flynn traveled west on Commercial, threading her way through the

early-evening throngs. After Labor Day the tourist traffic cut down, but

October was a popular month—the last gasp of Indian summer when

the leaf peepers still flooded New England and the town geared up for

Women’s Week, one of the biggest events of the year. With Columbus

Day weekend still a while away, most of the stores and restaurants

were open and shoppers and sidewalk crawlers took advantage of the

unseasonably warm early fall evening to stroll the streets. She slowed

in front of the Shoreline restaurant. The plate glass windows were

dark, and inside, chairs were piled on the small tables that filled the

storefront. She knew Mica wouldn’t be here—the restaurant, popular

with locals and tourists alike, closed after a late lunch hour. Still, she

Sheltering DuneS

• 47 •

had come to check, a bubble of expectation in her throat. And just as

she had known, her anticipation was greeted with empty silence. The

steeple clock at Town Hall chimed eight, and the unoccupied tables and

chairs reminded her she hadn’t eaten dinner. She didn’t cook much,

preferring to grab a sandwich or a piece of pizza after shift.

She turned and started back to the center of town. On impulse,

she deviated down the board sidewalk to the Piper Bar. Midweek, off-

season, the place was fairly deserted. A few locals sat at the bar, several

couples swayed on the dance floor adjoining the rear deck, and a few

others occupied tables around the edge of the room. One bartender

worked the bar. Flynn slid onto a stool and waited.

“Help you?” A redhead in a tight black T-shirt with a sequined

peacock over her breasts slapped a cocktail napkin in front of Flynn.

“A beer. Whatever dark you’ve got on draft.”

“Sure thing.”

The redhead turned away, and Flynn studied the napkin,

remembering the last time she’d been here. She’d had a date with Allie.

Their first date. They’d danced and walked home hand in hand. They’d

kissed on her sofa, and the kisses had led to more. But Allie had stopped

her when she might not have stopped herself, and that was unusual for

her. She wasn’t a go-all-the-way-on-the-first-date sort of person. But

Allie had made it easy to forget who she was. Allie made it easy to

forget a lot of things.

“Here you go. Three fifty.” The bartender set a glass in the center

of the white napkin, and a dark ring spread out around its base from

water dripping down the sides of the glass. Flynn extracted a five from

her wallet. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks, hon.” The bartender hesitated. “What’s your name?”

“Flynn.”

“I’m Marylou. You’re new in town.”

“Been here almost a month,” Flynn said.

“Planning to stay?”

“Yes.” Until she’d had the question put to her, Flynn had never

actually considered her answer. But she was staying. Not because she

had nowhere else to go, although her choices were somewhat limited.

But this town beckoned to her. She felt at home here.

“Good to hear. I’ll see you around, then.”

“You will.” Flynn pulled at her beer and watched the activity

behind her reflected in the mirror over the bar. A door on the far side of

the dance floor opened, and someone came through carrying a cardboard

• 48 •

RAdCLY fFE

box of liquor. Flynn narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t imagining things.

Mica crossed to the bar and carried the box around behind it.

“Hey, Marylou,” Mica said, “you want me to bring up a case of the

Captain next? It looks like you’re low.”

“Why don’t you just grab a couple of bottles,” Marylou said as she

pulled up a draft.

“Okay.”

Mica set the box on the bar and started to stack the bottles into

racks underneath. She worked quickly, as if she’d done the job before.

Tory King had been right. Even in the dim, red-tinged light from the

neon brewery signs hanging along the bar, the bruise around her left

eye was apparent. She had the beginnings of a shiner that was probably

going to be pretty dramatic in the morning.

Flynn slid down several bar stools, dragging her beer with her,

until she was opposite Mica. “I would’ve thought you’d be too sore to

work tonight.”

Mica jumped, her eyes darting rapidly to Flynn before all

expression fled her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We met early this morning.” Flynn lowered her voice. “When

you had that accident on your bicycle.”

“Yeah,” Mica said, “I know who you are. Like I said then, I’m

fine.”“Okay. I’m glad.”

“I’ll bet.” Mica pulled the empty cardboard box off the bar and

turned away, threading her way down to the opposite end, where she

rapidly pushed her way through a door leading to the alley outside.

Flynn debated going after her and then decided whatever the

reasons Mica had left the clinic, whatever demons chased her, were

none of her business. She drained her beer and set it carefully onto the

cocktail napkin.

“Buy you another?” Allie settled onto the stool next to Flynn. She

wasn’t in uniform now, and she looked young and fresh in a scooped-

neck long-sleeved tee, hip-hugger jeans, and low-heeled boots. Her

raven hair was loose around her shoulders.

“Hey,” Flynn said, looking past Allie around the room. She didn’t

see Ash Walker anywhere. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. What about you?”

“I’m good too. Shoulder okay?”

“It gets stiff now and then, but it’s healed up.”

“Good.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 49 •

“So, how are we doing?”

Flynn smiled. “I think we’re doing okay. How are things with

Ash?”Allie smiled, the kind of smile a woman in love smiles. “You know

we had a past, right? Before I went out with you.”

“Yeah, I figured that from some of the things Ash told me. And—

well, the way you looked at her. You couldn’t see anyone else.”

Allie blushed, a rare sight. “Jeez—uncool of me. Okay, well, I’m

sorry about the way things turned out with us—”

“No, there’s nothing to be sorry for. We had a couple of really

terrific dates. And I’m really glad for you.”

“You’re really scary nice, you know?”

“No, I’m not, but I can still be happy for you.”

“Someday you’ll have to tell me why you think you don’t deserve

it too.”

Flynn frowned. “Deserve what?”

“Happiness.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 51 •

chapter Six

Reese leaned on her elbow, slowly stroking Tory’s abdomen.

Tory’s face glowed in the muted light, a softness about her

eyes that pulled at Reese’s heart. “You look beautiful right now. How

do you feel?”

Tory turned on her side, keeping her hips slightly elevated on the

pillow underneath her lower back, and kissed Reese. “I feel wonderful.

How are you?”

“Sort of”—Reese lightly kissed Tory’s breast above her heart and

took a deep breath—“in awe, I guess. I like doing it this way, better

than in the office.” She rested her cheek between Tory’s breasts and

wrapped her arm around Tory’s middle, melding the lengths of their

bodies. “When I think about Reggie, and what a miracle she is, and

that you did that—you created her for us.” Reese’s throat closed and

she shut her eyes tightly, the surge of wonder warring with the rush of

terror that always came over her when she thought about how precious

Tory and Reggie were.

Tory’s fingers came into her hair, gently stroking the back of her

neck. “You know, none of this would be possible without you. You

create the certainty in my life, the safety in our home, the promise of

our future. You give me the strength to take this all on. I couldn’t do

this without you.”

“I love you,” Reese whispered.

“Oh, darling, I love you too.” Tory nestled closer, grasping Reese’s

free hand and guiding it over her abdomen and between her legs.

“Remember the part about giving the swimmers a helping hand?”

Reese’s hips tightened and heat kindled in her belly. She raised

her head and found herself in Tory’s eyes. “Oh, I remember.” Watching

• 52 •

RAdCLY fFE

Tory’s face, she slowly stroked over the delicate folds and lightly

caressed her clitoris.

“Mmm, that’s good. You’re so good.” Tory wrapped her arm

around Reese’s shoulders and raised her hips further. Breathing more

quickly, she pressed her hand over Reese’s, guiding her fingers to the

sensitive spot that always made her come. “As much as I love it when

you tease me, I don’t want to wait.”

“You feel so soft, so warm,” Reese murmured, continuing to tease,

refusing to speed up and stroke harder where she knew Tory needed

her. “Sure you can’t wait?”

Tory nipped at Reese’s chin. “Damn you. You know what I need.

Right now.” She skimmed down Reese’s back and kneaded her ass. “I

want you to come with me.”

“Do you.” Reese slid her legs over Tory’s, pressing her center

to Tory’s smooth, firm thigh. She was throbbing, aching, her clitoris

pulsating urgently. She almost always came when Tory did—she

couldn’t hold on when Tory was so totally hers. “I’m yours, you know.

You’ll make me come with you.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Do it now. God, I love you.”

Tory buried her face in the curve of Reese’s shoulder as her hips

rose and fell to the perfect cadence of Reese’s strokes. “Now, you’re

making me come now. God. So good.”

Reese tightened her grip and held Tory close, never letting up as

Tory’s hips bucked and she cried out, a breathtaking peal of joy and

fulfillment. Shuddering on the edge, Reese struggled to keep her eyes

open, wanting to see every second, wanting nothing in her mind, in her

body, in her soul except Tory and the promise of life to come.

v

Mica ripped the cardboard box apart, flattened it with her foot, and

stacked it with the others next to the Dumpster in the alley. Ten thirty.

She still had another half hour to work. Maybe when she went back

inside, Flynn would be gone. She didn’t want to see her questioning

eyes or hear her soft, too-understanding voice. The quiet tenderness in

her tone was too hard to ignore. Yeah, right—and too damn misleading.

Mica grabbed another box and pulled it apart. Flynn had no reason to

care about how she was feeling—even though it was a different kind of

come-on than the girls who had tried to pick her up usually used. Pretty

freakin’ effective too. Maybe if they’d pretended to pay a little more

Sheltering DuneS

• 53 •

attention to her, had looked at her like Flynn did—like she was really

there—and spent less time being worried about how sexy they were, she

might have tumbled to one of their invitations. She was glad she hadn’t.

She’d made enough mistakes getting hooked up with Hector, but what

choice had she had back then, anyhow? Just sixteen, needing to fit in,

needing some protection from the men and boys in the neighborhood

who were eyeing her like prime territory to be claimed, needing the

support of the girls who were so different from her but the only friends

she had. And later she had family to think of—family to protect. She

had to join the 13, and the way to join was by hooking up with a guy.

Lucky for her, Hector had claimed her right away, and she hadn’t had

to be passed around from guy to guy the way a lot of the new girls

were. Lucky for her too that Hector had other women, had kids with

other women, and he hadn’t pushed her to have one for him. Lucky,

yeah right. That was her—lucky, all right. The weight of Hector’s body

pressing down on her, smothering her, drove her breath from her chest

and she gasped. The relentless choking pressure of him driving into her

throat made her gag. Her head spun, and she grabbed the side of the

metal bin for support. Not now, God, not now. Her heart galloped and

spots danced before her eyes, even in the dark.

A crunching sound at the mouth of the alley grated over her skin,

and she jumped, sucking in air, her chest heaving. Someone approached

in the shadows, slow heavy footsteps, cautious, searching. Searching for

her maybe? She expected them to come, even though with each passing

day she started to hope they wouldn’t. She’d seen what happened to

other girls who tried to get out of the life. They always came back,

either on their own or on the end of someone’s chain. Hard to break free

when all you’d ever known was the gang, when the only ones who’d

ever taken care of you—even though you paid a price—were others

just like you. Others who understood the laws of the street—you paid

in flesh to survive, whether you were a woman or a man. The men paid

with blood, the women paid with their bodies. Everyone paid with their

souls. She’d run when she had nothing left to give and she couldn’t

pretend anymore not to see what Hector was doing. She’d waited too

long, and now she knew too much.

Easing back toward the closed door of the club, Mica kept to the

shadows, willing herself to be swallowed by the dark. Reaching behind

her, she felt along the cold steel door for the handle, desperate to be

quiet, desperate to disappear. Sweat broke out on her forehead and

ran down her face. Her stomach curdled and fear settled deep in her

• 54 •

RAdCLY fFE

pelvis. She wouldn’t let them take her. She’d rather die than go back.

She gripped the slick knob and turned it. The metallic click ricocheted

around the narrow alley, louder than a gunshot. She froze.

A deep male voice grunted, “Hey. Where you going, baby?”

She shoved the door open with her shoulder and practically fell

into the haven of the bar. She slammed the door, spun around, and

scanned for an escape route. The red lights over the bar, glaring like

the light bars on cop cars, hit her in the face and blinded her. Unable to

focus, she scrubbed at her eyes. Which way to run? Out the back, onto

the deck, and down to the beach? She might be able to hide under the

piers or make it to a dark alley. Or across the dance floor and out the

front door? Still plenty of people around this time of night—maybe she

could hide in plain sight. She couldn’t stay here—if that was Hector’s

man out there he wouldn’t care who got in his way. You didn’t run from

Hector and you didn’t return empty-handed. She raced around the end

of the bar and skirted across the nearly empty dance floor toward the

exit. If she got out to the street before he did, she might just be able to

blend into the crowd.

“Hey!” Marylou called. “Hey, Mica? Where you—”

Flynn stepped into her path. “Mica? What’s the matter?” Flynn

extended a hand as if to touch her, but dropped it and fell in next to her,

hurrying to keep up. “Are you all right?”

“Go away,” Mica said. “Don’t touch me.”

“I won’t. I promise. Just tell me—what’s wrong?”

Mica looked back over her shoulder. The door to the alley remained

closed. There was no lock on it. If he’d wanted her, he would’ve come

in. Maybe she was safer inside. Maybe he was just waiting for her to

come out. She stopped just inside the door, next to the stool where the

bouncer sat on the weekends. She peered through the open door and

didn’t see anyone on the sidewalk outside. Panting, she pushed her hair

out of her face. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Go away.”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything, okay? I’m not asking

any questions.” Flynn backed up a step, as if knowing Mica needed

space. “Just tell me one thing. Are you safe?”

Mica stared. She was so used to being physically dominated, the

small gesture calmed her, but she wouldn’t be fooled by kindness.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know something’s wrong. You wouldn’t have run out of the

clinic this morning otherwise.”

“I already told you.” Mica pulled her defenses back around her.

Sheltering DuneS

• 55 •

With every second that passed and no one came for her, the panic

subsided. “I don’t have any money, I didn’t want to go there in the first

place. It’s as simple as that.”

Flynn nodded. “Okay.”

Mica narrowed her eyes. “Just like that?”

“Why not?”

Maybe because you don’t look stupid, and you should know

everybody lies? Mica put her hands on her hips. “What planet do you

come from?”

Flynn smiled. “New Hampshire?”

Mica laughed. “Maybe that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Never mind. I have to get back to work.”

“I thought you worked at Shoreline.”

“I do. In the morning. I work here at night.” Mica headed back to

the bar and Flynn followed. The brunette who had joined Flynn earlier

was still sitting at the bar, watching them. Mica hated being watched.

She stopped and glared at Flynn. “What do you want now?”

“Another beer?”

Flynn smiled, and man, she was beautiful when she did. Even in

the partial light, her eyes were unbelievably blue. Deep and dark and

really sexy. Mica remembered watching her that morning, leaning over

the man on the table in the room across the hall. Flynn’s face had been

so intense, as if what she was doing was the only thing that mattered in

the world. As if that man was the only person who mattered. The way

she’d touched him had been so gentle, but so powerful. Mica heard the

words again— Our Father who art in heaven— remembered them from

long ago, the sound echoing in the silent vastness of the church. Words

that she learned meant nothing, maybe even worse than nothing. Lies,

about tenderness and love and salvation. Watching Flynn with that

dying man made her wonder for one fractured second if there wasn’t

some tiny flicker of good that still flared somewhere in the world. She

snorted at her own stupidity. Start thinking that way and you’d end up

under someone’s boot. Or worse.

“Who are you, exactly?”

“My name is Flynn.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me. But that’s not what I meant.

I saw you this morning, with the guy across the hall.” Mica scowled.

“What are you?”

Flynn’s jaw tightened. “I’m a priest.”

• 56 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Yeah? You can be one? When you’re a woman, I mean?”

“Yes.”

“So how come you’re riding around on an ambulance?”

“That’s a long story.”

“Huh. A priest with secrets?”

“Something like that,” Flynn said.

“So you ought to know questions can be dangerous.”

“Silence can be worse.”

“Sounds like a line.”

“It’s not a line. I don’t want anything from you.”

Mica stopped, searched Flynn’s face. “That’s bull. Everyone

wants something.”

“Do you?”

Mica thought about the long walk home. About the man in the

alley. About Hector’s long reach. Maybe being alone wasn’t so smart—

at least tonight. If the crazy priest or whatever she really was wanted to

stick around, having someone to walk her home might be a good idea.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“What?”

“I want you to have another beer, and then maybe I’ll let you walk

me home.”

Flynn hesitated, then nodded. “I can do that.”

Flynn’s gaze never moved from Mica’s eyes, but Mica felt as if a

hand swept over her body, caressing her. That was nuts, but her nipples

tightened and her pussy clenched all the same. Flynn might be harder

to string along than the girls she’d learned to play for the money they’d

spend on her while trying to get into her pants, but she knew how to

keep her secrets safe. She was good at that.

Sheltering DuneS

• 57 •

chapter Seven

Flynn settled back onto the bar stool and pushed her half-

finished beer away. The dark brew looked flat and empty.

“Want another one?” Allie asked.

“No. I think I’m done for the night.”

“Some kind of problem there?” Allie asked quietly, tilting her chin

slightly toward Mica, who was sliding glasses onto narrow racks above

the far end of the bar.

“No,” Flynn said, “no problem.” It seemed like she was saying

that to a lot of people where Mica was concerned. A niggling sensation

in the back of her mind warned her she was making a mistake, but

she pushed the kernel of foreboding away. She didn’t know anything

about Mica—good or bad. All she knew was Mica was running from

something—ghosts, maybe, and there was no crime in that. She should

know. Her own ghosts were only a few footsteps behind her.

“She’s cute,” Allie observed.

Flynn grinned. Allie was one of those gorgeous women who exuded

sex, drew other women’s attention like a magnet, and lustily appreciated

the sexual allure of females. Apparently being in a relationship didn’t

squelch her natural instincts, and no reason that it should. “She is.”

“Why does she look familiar?”

Flynn hesitated. She didn’t want to hurt Mica, and as fun and

casual as Allie seemed in her off-duty hours, there was much more to

her than her sexy, playgirl side. She was a smart and serious cop. On

the other hand, Flynn had no reason to protect Mica. As far as she knew,

Mica didn’t need protection and the urge to offer it was only her own

issues at work. “She’s the girl on the bicycle who was hit by that van

this morning.”

• 58 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Right,” Allie said, her gaze following Mica as she worked. “I

really thought she was hurt. I’m glad to see she’s all right.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I should tell her we’ve got her bike at the station. It’s pretty

banged up. I don’t think she’s going to be able to ride it until she gets a

new wheel and the frame straightened out.”

“She’s lucky,” Flynn said, thinking how easily the broken and

twisted frame could have been Mica’s body. The image, one she’d seen

over and over again on calls, brought a wave of acid rolling through her

stomach. She didn’t want to think of Mica as one of those victims. As

any kind of victim. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to get it back.”

“I’ll go tell her.”

Allie sauntered the length of the bar, and Flynn watched Mica

as Allie approached. Her shoulders tightened, she put down the glass

she’d been holding, and she flicked a rapid glance at the door behind

her. She was ready to run if she had to. The evidence was unmistakable

if you knew what to look for. And if Flynn could see it, so could Allie.

Flynn couldn’t hear the conversation, but when Allie turned away

and headed back, a fleeting look of relief passed over Mica’s face.

Mica glanced down the bar, and when she saw Flynn watching, her

expression became stony and her eyes defiant. Daring Flynn to read her.

Maybe daring Flynn to care.

She shouldn’t care. She should know better. Mica was nothing

like Debbie. Debbie had been lost, desperately seeking solid ground,

searching for direction, and Flynn had been there to guide her. That’s

what she’d thought she was doing—giving support and guidance.

Exactly as she had been led to believe was her mission. Somewhere

she’d failed to hear the true story behind Debbie’s fears. Failed to

recognize the terror that plagued her. Failed Debbie. And now, was she

simply seeking redemption with a woman who didn’t need saving and

who would never give her absolution?

“You know her very well?” Allie leaned against the bar, her thigh

just touching Flynn’s, her body blocking Flynn’s view of Mica.

“Not really,” Flynn said, easing away from the contact. At the end

of the bar, Mica continued to work.

“Huh. Looked like you did—when you were talking earlier.”

“Just met her this morning.”

“Okay. Well, have you decided to play ball for the fund-raiser?”

Allie asked.

Sheltering DuneS

• 59 •

Happy for the reprieve, Flynn turned partway on the stool and

focused on Allie. Her eyes were beautiful, and sharply appraising.

Flynn wondered what she saw. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Good. I’m captaining the red team. I could use a good running

back.”“That’s what Dave said. What makes you think I can run?”

Allie grinned. “Baby, you’re built for it.”

Flynn laughed. She loved that Allie could always make her laugh.

“So you say. I’ll be proud to wear the red, Captain.”

Ali squeezed Flynn’s shoulder. “Good. I’m going to head home.

Ash is supposed to call.”

“Tell her I said hi,” Flynn said, finding it hurt less to say this

time.Allie smiled. “Thanks. I will.”

Flynn turned back to the bar and Mica stepped in front of her.

“Girlfriend?” Mica asked, a note of disdain in her voice.

“No. Friend.”

“I thought priests weren’t supposed to lie?”

“I’m not. She’s got a girlfriend.”

“You’re pretty good at sliding around a question, aren’t you.”

Mica grabbed a wet rag and started wiping down the bar. “Since when

did having one girlfriend mean you can’t have another one?”

“Doesn’t work that way for me,” Flynn said, having no idea why

she was explaining. “I went out with Allie a few times, but she was still

in love with someone else. That someone else showed up.”

Mica stopped, the white terrycloth balled in her fist. “You still

have a thing for her.”

Flynn stopped herself before she could give the automatic response.

A lie would destroy whatever chance she had of ever gaining Mica’s

trust. “I think I still have a thing for what might have been. We didn’t go

out that long—never got to the point of having anything serious.”

“Is there a time limit or something?” Mica snorted. “Sometimes

things happen fast. Somebody gets their hooks into you and you can’t

shake loose.”

“You sound like you know.” Flynn didn’t like the idea, which

made no sense at all.

Mica shrugged. “No. Not me.” She started rubbing out the water

rings on the bar again. “Besides, we were talking about you.”

“I’m not hung up, but I still have some feelings.”

• 60 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Yeah. I can see how that would happen.” Mica grinned, a wholly

natural and captivating grin. “She’s really hot.”

Flynn laughed. “Yeah, you got that right.”

Mica paused, leaned toward Flynn. “But then, so are you.”

Flynn’s thighs tightened and a drumbeat started in the pit of her

stomach. “That’s some line.”

“It’s not a line,” Mica said, leaning over a little more. Her gaze did

a slow crawl down Flynn’s body. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

Flynn ignored the voice warning her to be careful. “I’ll be

waiting.”

v

Outside Atlantic City, NJ

Hector climbed out of the rear of the Hummer and waited while

his lieutenants piled out of all four doors and surrounded him, shielding

him from any potential ambush. He slid his hand under his oversized

Eagles jersey and felt for the Glock in his right front pocket. He brushed

his fingers past the cold steel and onto his cock, taking courage from the

dual symbols of his power. “Stay tight. Be ready.”

“Yo,” came a series of gruff replies. They moved forward as a

phalanx toward the three men in suits and overcoats standing next to the

idling limousine. The big guy in the front, Leo, watched them approach

impassively. His white-blond hair was cut close to his scalp, making his

massive head and neck appear even larger. His shoulders strained the

seams of the expensive cashmere coat and his thighs bulged beneath

his blended wool trousers. He dressed like a businessman but he looked

like a thug. Hector wasn’t intimidated by the clothes. A bullet would

pierce silk as easy as polyester.

“You bring the product?” Leo asked.

“In the car.” Hector hunched his shoulder toward the limo. “You

have the goods?”

“Two cases. AK-47s.”

“Twenty kilos,” Hector said, “prime Colombian white.”

“Good.”

“What about the girls?” Hector asked.

Leo’s granite jaw became even stonier. “Not part of the bargain.”

“Remy said we’d get three.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 61 •

“Remy doesn’t make deals.”

Hector cupped his crotch, squeezed his balls, and brushed his hand

over the Glock in his pants. “No girls, no coke.”

“No coke, no guns.”

Hector shrugged. “We can get guns from the Bloods.”

“Not like these.”

Hector shrugged again and made like he was turning away.

“Two,” Leo said. “But they been used already.”

“Done.” Virgins were nice, but after the first time, they were just

like all the others anyhow. The girls the Russians supplied were worth

compromising on that score—always well-trained, usually healthy, and

obedient.

“Someone will drop them off tomorrow night.”

Hector signaled to Carmen. “Make the exchange.” He backed

away, keeping his eye on the muscle who flanked Leo. When he was

far enough away to feel comfortable, he turned his back and walked

back to the Hummer. He climbed into the rear and wiped sweat from

his face.

Carmen hopped in five minutes later. “All taken care of, boss.”

“Any word on Mia?”

“Ramirez got a cousin of hers to talk. She says Mia headed north.

On the train, maybe.”

“Where north?”

Carmen shook his head. “She still won’t say, and Ramirez was

persuasive. Could be she doesn’t know.”

“Get her cell. Mia would’ve called her. We’ll find someone who

can trace the calls.”

“What you going to do when you find her?”

“Nothing,” Hector said, rubbing his palm over his dick. He was

getting hard thinking about Mia and the lesson he’d need to teach her.

“Just want my homegirl back home.”

v

Reese’s cell phone rang and she snatched it off the bedside table.

Rolling out of bed, she padded naked out into the hall. “Conlon.”

“I’m sorry to wake you up, Sheriff,” Allie said, “but I didn’t think

I ought to wait till tomorrow…”

“No problem.” Reese eased the bedroom door closed. From the

• 62 •

RAdCLY fFE

amount of moonlight slanting through the skylight in the hall, she

figured it was still early. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d

fallen asleep so early or so deeply. “What have you got?”

“Remember you called me this morning to ask me about the girl

who was hit by the van?”

“The one who left the clinic before Tory finished her evaluation.

Yeah, I remember.”

“I ran her ID this afternoon, and I just checked back tonight

because I was waiting on a few things. The computer system hasn’t

been—”

“Yeah, I know. I’m trying to get more money in the budget to

replace the whole system.” Ever since Nelson Parker had gone out on

medical leave, she’d taken over as acting sheriff and, come election

time, figured it would be permanent. She liked everything about the job

except the politics. “You find something?”

“No,” Allie said. “That’s just the thing. I didn’t find anything at

all.” “So she’s clean.”

“No, I mean I didn’t find anything on her in the system. No credit

cards, no driver’s license, no previous addresses, no Social Security

number.”

Reese walked into the baby’s room out of habit. The crib was

empty, and for a fraction of a second, her guts seized. Then she

remembered. Reggie was with her grandmothers. Reggie was fine.

Tory was asleep across the hall. Her family was safe. Her stomach

settled. “So she’s either off the grid, or she’s not who she wants us to

think she is.”

“That’s my take on it.”

“There’s no law against flying under the radar. Of course, if she’s

working, she ought to be paying taxes.”

“She’s working, all right. I just saw her in the Piper.” Allie drew in

a deep breath that made Reese think she wasn’t happy about what she

was going to say. “You think we should bring her in?”

“We don’t have any real reason to do that.” Reese walked into

the guest room where she kept extra clothes so she could dress in the

middle of the night without waking Tory. She opened the closet door

and pulled a khaki uniform shirt off the hanger. “I can meet you at the

station and we can talk about it.”

“Oh hell, no. I don’t want to drag you out tonight. I just have this

feeling—”

Sheltering DuneS

• 63 •

“Tremont,” Reese said, “if you’ve got a feeling, don’t ignore it.

You’ve got good instincts.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Reese smiled. “We need to do a lot more digging before we draw

any conclusions.”

“I can widen the computer searches.”

“Absolutely, that’s a place to start. We ought to send her picture

around and see if that pops anything for us.” Reese shrugged into the

shirt but left it unbuttoned. “I’ll come in early tomorrow morning and

we can get started. Good enough?”

“I, uh, thought maybe I’d just keep an eye on her tonight.”

“A stakeout? What else is going on that makes you think there’s

something there?”

“I talked to her tonight. She looked like she was a second away

from running.”

“Again,” Reese said softly. The girl was clearly afraid of the

authorities. That could mean anything—she could be a victim just as

easily as she could be a problem. “If she goes straight home, I want you

to do the same. I don’t want you running any kind of surveillance by

yourself. If you have the slightest suspicion of anything off, I want you

to call me. I’ll be your backup.”

“Yes ma’am,” Allie snapped, and Reese could almost see the

salute.“Well done, Tremont.” Reese started back to the bedroom.

“Remember, you even get a twinge that something is off, I want a

call.”“You got it, Sheriff.”

Reese disconnected and slipped back into the bedroom, making

her way to the bed in the dark.

“You have to go?” Tory asked.

Reese sat on the side of the bed and set the phone on the bedside

table. “No. That was Allie, calling about the girl you had in your clinic

this morning. She doesn’t seem to have any verifiable identity.”

Tory slid her hand under Reese’s shirt and rubbed her back. “What

do you think that means?”

“Almost anything.” Reese shrugged out of the shirt, tossed it onto

a nearby chair, and got back under the covers. She pulled Tory into her

arms and kissed her. “Sorry I woke you.”

“That’s okay. I think just to be extra sure, we should try that

helping-hand thing again.”

• 64 •

RAdCLY fFE

Reese chuckled. “Does just thinking about getting pregnant make

you horny?”

“Darling, you make me horny.” Tory pulled Reese on top of her.

“You’re not tired, are you?”

“Not even a little. I’m all yours.”

“Of course you are. And right now, I have work for you.”

Reese kissed her. Allie would call if she needed her. Right now,

Tory was all that mattered.

Sheltering DuneS

• 65 •

chapter eight

Flynn finished her Diet Coke and turned the empty glass between

her hands, watching the last of the ice melt. Mica had signaled

she was finishing up and would be ready to leave soon. Mica worked

quickly and efficiently, clearing glasses and empty bottles from tables

around the room, emptying ashtrays on the open deck that extended over

the beach, restocking the bar. She didn’t seem to notice the appreciative

glances from the women, mostly singles now, occupying stools at the

bar or leaning on the deck in casual poses, appraising their chances

of company for the night. Flynn didn’t want to be one of the women

staring at Mica, tossing out a flirtatious remark as she passed, hoping

to draw her attention. She tried not to watch her, but Mica was the

most attractive woman in the room—her tight faded jeans hugged her

curvaceous butt, and her sleeveless T-shirt with a washed-out Harley-

Davidson logo stretched tightly across her full breasts showed off her

lithe, muscular arms. When she bent over, the shirt slid up her back

and a bit of ink showed above the waistband of her hip-huggers. The

tat was big, and with a twinge in her belly that ought to have been a

warning but just felt good, Flynn wondered how low it went. In a word,

Mica was built, and combined with the strong, broad planes of her face,

her luminous dark eyes, and full lips, that spelled downright gorgeous.

Who wouldn’t want to look at her?

So Flynn looked, and occasionally when Mica glanced her way,

Flynn thought she caught a flicker of a pleased smile. Maybe Mica

really had been flirting with her earlier. She wasn’t entirely certain she

read signals from women accurately. When she’d first gone out with

Allie, she’d told Allie she wasn’t a virgin, which was true, but she still

didn’t have a lot of experience. Celibacy wasn’t a requirement in the

seminary, but she’d been far too busy at first with her studies, and then

• 66 •

RAdCLY fFE

too busy falling in love with the wrong woman, to get much practice.

After she’d left, she’d dated, but she still felt like she was learning

the rules. Not that the rules mattered right at the moment. She wasn’t

dating Mica.

Just that morning, Mica had been her patient, and Flynn wasn’t the

kind of paramedic who followed up with patients for any reason—social

or medical. She didn’t track down ER staff to find out what happened

to the injured she’d delivered to the hospital or to discover the fate of

the babies she’d transported in the back of the medic unit on a wild ride

through dark streets at night. She was happier walking away, doing

what she could in the moment and then letting go. She didn’t need to

know. She couldn’t change the outcome. She needed a clear beginning

and a definite end that had nothing to do with her, except for those few

critical moments when she was certain she was doing the right thing.

In this one area, emergency care, she trusted her instincts. She trusted

herself.

Unlike a few of the others, she’d never once tried to date anyone

she’d met on a call, even when their injuries had been minor or

nonexistent and the call had turned out to be more social than medical.

She’d vowed never to let her personal and professional lives bleed into

each other again. Walking Mica home was almost an exception to her

rule, but as long as she was only being friendly… She caught herself up

short, wondering if she was lying to herself the same way she had lied

to herself about Evelyn.

At first she’d denied her attraction, then called her growing desire

friendship, and only when she’d confessed her feelings had she been

abruptly reminded she’d willingly misread everything. If she hadn’t

been so involved with her own personal anguish over Evelyn, maybe

she would have seen Debbie’s pain more clearly. Maybe everything

would have been different. If Evelyn had been her only mistake, she

might have been able to forgive herself.

Flynn closed her eyes and let the pain wash through her on the

familiar crest of guilt and remorse.

“You ready?” Mica asked, sliding up next to her.

Flynn hadn’t seen Mica come around the end of the bar. She hadn’t

seen anything as she’d looked inward and backward, replaying what

she hadn’t said—what she should have done—and how the outcome

might have been different if she’d had better instincts. If she’d had the

instincts she’d needed and once believed she’d had. If she’d been a

better priest.

Sheltering DuneS

• 67 •

“Yeah, sure.” Flynn stood.

“You okay?” Mica didn’t move and Flynn ended up standing very

close to her. So close the scent of dark spices and a hint of chocolate

surrounded her. Mica’s eyes were soft and warm, as open and welcoming

as Flynn had ever seen them. Mica’s fingers trailed lightly down Flynn’s

arm. “You looked like something was…bothering you.”

Flynn flushed. She didn’t confide in people easily, but the

unexpected tenderness in Mica’s gaze made her want to confess. She

almost laughed. How had the tables turned so completely, and when did

she start believing absolution might be found on earth? “I’m fine.”

Mica shrugged and stepped back, the sliver of warmth in her eyes

chilling. “Suit yourself.”

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

Flynn shoved her hands in her pockets. They walked side by side

to the door in silence and the gulf between them widened. Every step

made Flynn panic just a little, as if she needed to get back to solid

ground before she sank beneath the weight of her own memories. “I’m

not usually moody.”

“No?” Mica kept walking and didn’t look at her. “What are you

usually?”

“You ask hard questions.”

“You like bullshit better?” Mica slowed on the narrow wooden

sidewalk that led from the club to the street. She seemed to be looking

around, but the dim, narrow alleyway leading to the street was empty.

At the far end, people strolled by on Commercial even though it was

close to midnight.

Mica waited, her silence a challenge.

“I don’t know what I am anymore,” Flynn said. “I like my job.

Keeps me busy. I don’t think about much of anything else.” Even as she

said it, Flynn saw her life for what it was—a highway to nowhere, and

she was taking it as fast as she could. She was running away every bit

as much as Mica seemed to be. “And no, I can do without the bullshit.

I’m sorry I can’t—”

“Look,” Mica said sharply, “forget I asked. Your business.”

Flynn nodded. The walls were up again. Just as well. She needed

the walls too. “Have you had anything to eat tonight?”

“I’ve been busy too, you probably noticed.” Mica headed toward

the street.

“I noticed.” Flynn caught up to her. “How’s the headache?”

• 68 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Can we leave off talking about my head and my stomach and any

other part of me,” Mica grumbled. “I took a spill, I didn’t get hit by a

subway train. I’ve had worse injuries dropping my bike.”

“Harley?” Flynn pointed to Mica’s T-shirt.

Mica grinned, pure pleasure lighting up her face. “Yeah. A sweet

little classic Softail.”

“So why were you on a bicycle this morning?”

“I sold it.”

Flynn heard the message in Mica’s clipped words. An off-limits

topic—at least for right now. “Look, I could use something to eat. Want

to stop at the Post Office and grab a sandwich?”

“No.”

“My treat.”

Mica stopped in the middle of the street across from Town Hall.

“Message time, Flynn. I asked you to walk me home, and if you get

lucky, maybe I’ll ask you up to my room. But if I do, it’ll be on my

terms because I want to get laid, not because I owe you anything.”

“Mica,” Flynn said quietly, “you don’t owe me anything and you

never will. If I offer something, it’s because I want to do it. Maybe

because I’m hungry, maybe because I’d like your company.”

“Yeah, sure. Why would you like my company?” Mica ran her

hand over her chest, slowly tracing the outline of her breast until her

fingers trailed down her belly and angled across her crotch. “This kind

of company, I get that. But like I said, that’s not for sale.”

Flynn blew out a breath. “Okay. We have a little problem here.”

“No, we don’t. See you around.”

Mica moved so fast she was halfway up the block before Flynn

got her ass in gear and jogged after her. When she caught up, she said,

“I don’t pay girls for sex, cash or otherwise. I don’t take girls out to

dinner and expect them to sleep with me afterward. I don’t even expect

a good-night kiss after taking a girl to a really good movie.”

“Then you’re a loser,” Mica muttered.

“Yeah,” Flynn sighed. “That might be why I never get laid.”

Mica laughed. “You are some kind of weird chick.”

“I think you told me that already.”

“So you’re not looking to get laid?” Mica cut Flynn a disbelieving

look.“No, I’m not.”

“So what do you really want?”

There it was, the question she’d been trying to answer ever since

Sheltering DuneS

• 69 •

she’d left the seminary. What did she really want? Some things she

knew for certain. She needed to feel useful. She needed to know that

her life meant something. The best, the finest way she knew of doing

that, was to make someone else’s life a little better. She’d grown up

believing from as far back as she could remember that the way for her

to serve was to minister—to provide a safe place to speak, to listen

without prejudice, to guide without judgment—that had been her goal.

She had never felt the need to convert others. She believed people came

to God in their own way, in their own time. Her mission was to help,

and if she was truly lucky, to heal. In the months since she’d left the

seminary, she’d cared for the body instead of the soul. She should have

felt more satisfied. She should have felt if not peace, at least solace. But

she didn’t.

They’d slowed until they were barely moving. People streamed

around them, laughing, talking, making plans, living. Irrepressible

humanity. Flynn tried to remember the last time she’d felt like she was

living, and she remembered Allie in her arms. She took a deep breath.

“I’d like some company,” Flynn said. “I don’t feel like being alone

right now.”

“Wow, your lines really do need a little work. That doesn’t exactly

make me want to let you jump my bones.”

Flynn laughed. “I was thinking we’d have a late dinner and then

I’d walk you home. Like we agreed.”

Mica chewed her lip, glanced behind them, and lifted her shoulder.

“Sure. Why not?”

Why not? Strangely lighthearted, Flynn decided not every question

needed an answer.

v

Allie leaned against the corner of Vorelli’s restaurant, shielded by

passersby, and watched Flynn and Mica carry on a conversation in the

middle of the street as if nothing else was going on around them. Flynn

had a way of doing that—zeroing in on you until you felt like the entire

world disappeared and all that mattered was what was happening in that

instant between the two of you. Allie couldn’t remember the last time

she’d been to church, but she remembered what it felt like to confide

in Flynn, to expose herself. To let herself be comforted. She’d felt safe.

Flynn must have been an amazing priest.

Flynn had given her shelter. No one had ever made her feel quite

• 70 •

RAdCLY fFE

that safe, not personally, not in her heart—except Ash. Allie could

easily have given her heart to Flynn if Ash hadn’t already owned her,

body and soul. Still, a little bit of her heart tugged every time she saw

Flynn. She didn’t want to sleep with her, she didn’t want to claim even

a little bit of Flynn’s heart, but she wanted to see her happy. She loved

Flynn like she loved Bri—like she loved few people—all the way deep

down inside.

Every time she saw Flynn, she wondered what could have possibly

made Flynn give up being what she must have been so good at. That

was a question she was going to get answered one day soon. But right

now, she wondered what the hell Flynn was doing. They bumped into

each other regularly on shift and off, and she’d never seen Flynn pick

up anyone before. She’d had to make the moves the few times they’d

gone out. And now Flynn was getting all tangled up with exactly the

wrong kind of girl.

Even if she hadn’t known Mica was hiding something, she wouldn’t

have wanted Flynn to hook up with her. Girls like that played girls

like Flynn—teasing them, stringing them along, using them. That little

dark-haired cutie was a hardcore badass, and if she wasn’t in trouble

with the law already, she was headed that way. She would probably use

anybody and anything to get what she needed. And Flynn was such a

goddamn sucker. So sweet. So kind.

Damn it, Flynn, what are you doing?

Flynn and Mica started off again, cutting through the crowd, and

Allie fell in behind them. She wouldn’t have called Reese if she hadn’t

been certain something was off with Mica, and talking to her for a few

minutes in the Piper had made her even more certain. The girl had been

skittish, more than skittish—she’d looked like the hounds of hell were

after her. That would’ve tripped her trigger even if Mica hadn’t been

hanging around Flynn. She wasn’t about to stand around doing nothing

and watch Flynn get dragged into something that might get nasty. If she

had to traipse around town in the middle of the night, every night, to

find out what the hell was going on, she would.

And first thing in the morning, if the computers didn’t give her

a lead as to the girl’s identity, she’d have to go at it the old-fashioned

way. She’d convince Reese to let her bring the girl in for questioning.

Reese had said to trust her instincts, and her instincts were telling her

trouble, big trouble, was waiting right around the corner.

Sheltering DuneS

• 71 •

chapter nine

So,” Mica said, “this is it.”

She slowed in front of a ramshackle building that once must

have been an elegant captain’s house. Now, even in the weak light cast

by the moon ducking in and out of the clouds, the shabbiness was hard

to miss. Peeling paint, sagging porch, shutters hanging askew. She’d

been lucky to get the apartment—more like a big room, really, with

the bonus of having a private bathroom, and she’d used the last of her

money paying the first month in advance.

“Thanks for dinner,” Flynn said.

Mica shook her head. “You paid, remember? So that’s my line.”

“Tell you what,” Flynn said. “Let’s make a deal—no lines. I won’t

if you won’t.”

“What does that leave us with?” Mica asked, looking for the con.

“The truth.”

“Yeah, right. But why not?” She tossed the ball back to Flynn. Her

play. Let’s see what she called truth. “So why the dinner?”

“Like I said before, I enjoy your company.” And she sounded like

she meant it. Looked it too—her eyes glinting in the moonlight, an easy

smile making her look sexy and sleek.

For a crazy nanosecond, Mica contemplated asking Flynn upstairs

with her. She’d had a good time at dinner—a really good time. Flynn

was easy on the eyes, easy to talk to, easy to be with. Too easy. She

made Mica forget for minutes at a time to be careful, to be wary. Flynn

even made her forget now and then to pay attention to who walked by,

who followed in the near darkness, who might be waiting up ahead.

Dangerous. Stupid and dangerous, all because Flynn made her forget

her own rules. And now she was thinking about asking Flynn upstairs?

Yeah, right.

• 72 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Are you working tomorrow?” Flynn asked.

“I work every day, if I can,” Mica said.

“Then you probably have to get up early. I should let you go.”

Flynn didn’t move away, and neither did Mica. Nothing waited for

her upstairs. A silent room, an empty bed, another night when she kept

the loneliness at bay by replaying the alternatives in her mind. Hector’s

mocking laugh, his rough hands, the wild, crazy gleam in his eyes.

“You want to come up?” Mica blurted. When she looked into

Flynn’s eyes, she couldn’t see Hector’s.

“I think we should stick to the original plan,” Flynn said seriously.

She cupped Mica’s chin and kissed her on the cheek before Mica could

jerk her head away. “Thanks for tonight.”

Mica stiffened. Flynn’s lips were soft and warm. She smelled like

autumn in the park, with just a hint of sweetness beneath the rich scent

of burning leaves. Mica hadn’t walked in the park since she was ten

and her mother took her and her brother and sister to the playground

on the rare Saturday or Sunday she wasn’t working. Then her mother

had lost her job and gotten hooked up with a man who’d put his hands

on Mica’s ass one too many times, and she’d found a new family. After

she’d joined MS-13, there were no more late-afternoon walks in the

park, not even the little scraggly one along the waterfront across the

highway from the high-rise where she lived. Mica pulled away from the

kiss before her body asked for more. “What the hell was that? If you

don’t want anything—”

“I don’t.” Flynn backed up. Her blond hair silvered in the

moonlight. Her lanky body, all dangerous edges and teasing curves,

shimmered like a blade. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

Mica’s breath snagged on a lump in the middle of her chest.

“Flynn—”

“Night, Mica.”

Her name whispered on the wind and Flynn was gone.

Mica waited, holding her breath, her belly tight and aching,

anticipating the instant when Flynn would reappear. She touched her

fingertips to her middle, felt her muscles clench—an unfamiliar longing

swirled in her chest. Flynn didn’t come back, and after a minute, Mica

sucked in a breath, spun around, and climbed the porch. She let herself

in and hurried up the dark stairs to the second-floor rear apartment. The

room smelled musty and abandoned, but underneath the heavy scent

of loss, she detected a hint of the sea, and hope. Leaning back against

Sheltering DuneS

• 73 •

the closed door, she shut her eyes. Her face tingled from the touch of

Flynn’s lips. That ache in her belly was bigger, part loneliness—that she

was used to—and another part so unusual she hadn’t recognized it at

first. The slow burn of desire flickered and flared. Her breasts tightened,

her nipples pebbled underneath her T-shirt. Her belly quivered.

None of the girls she’d played with, not even the ones she’d kissed

in the shadows when the loneliness got too big, had made her want so

much. She’d been crazy to ask Flynn to come upstairs. She couldn’t

afford to let anyone inside her defenses. Especially not someone who

made her forget for minutes at a time that her life was not her own.

v

Allie let herself into her garden apartment between Commercial

and Bradford a little after one. Her cell phone finally caught a signal

and she saw she had voice mail. She dropped her keys onto the table

that doubled as a dining table and desk and scrolled through the short

list, her heart kicking up when she spotted Ash’s number. She slid her

thumb over the Listen icon.

Hi, babe, I guess you must be asleep. Sorry I didn’t call sooner—

I’m in some kind of a dead zone and can’t get a signal half the time. Talk

to you in the morning. I love you.

Allie replayed the message. Ash’s husky voice cut through her as

if she hadn’t heard it hundreds of times before, leaving her awash with

joy and desire and old fears. Ever since Ash had come back into her

life a few weeks ago, the old wounds had started to heal, but she still

had moments when she walked into the empty apartment and nearly

drowned under the crushing memory of the long, lonely months after

Ash left her. God, she’d been miserable. She’d very nearly slept with

Flynn to push the pain away. She didn’t regret having met Flynn, having

gotten close to her, but a small part of her worried she might have been

using Flynn, and the guilt burned. She hit Call and waited, her stomach

jittery with anticipation.

“Hi, baby.” Ash sounded wide-awake.

“Hey,” Allie said, moving through the living room to her bedroom

without turning on a light. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m watching TV,” Ash said. “I’ve been in the car so much I

needed to unwind a little bit before trying to sleep.”

“How’s it going?” Allie pushed the speaker button, set the cell

• 74 •

RAdCLY fFE

phone on the dresser, and pulled off her T-shirt. “Are you almost

done?”

“Getting there. I’ve got a couple of sites to visit tomorrow

morning and then I’ll hit the last ones on my return leg. I ought to be

back soon.”

Dancing from foot to foot, Allie pushed out of her jeans and the

rest of her clothes until she was naked. She grabbed the phone, carried

it to the bed, and slid under the covers. The sheets were crisp and cool,

too cool without Ash. “That’s good.”

“What are you doing up so late? Didn’t you have the day shift?”

“Yeah.” Allie absently brushed her fingers over her chest, her

fingertips grazing her nipples. They hardened instantly. She smiled,

feeling herself get wet, thinking how easily Ash could turn her on. Just

thinking about her was enough to do that—add her voice, and she was in

trouble. “Something came up and I ended up working some tonight.”

“Trouble?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” Ash’s work as an insurance investigator

specializing in high-risk or suspicious claims made her an excellent

investigator, and Allie respected her opinions. Sometimes it was hard

having an older girlfriend with more experience in just about everything,

but she was learning to hold her own. Where work was concerned, she

wasn’t too proud to accept input from another professional. “There was

an incident this morning where a girl on a bicycle got hit by a van.

Seemed pretty routine, but then she skipped out of the clinic before

Tory could examine her. Reese asked me to follow up. The thing is, I

can’t find anything on her.”

“You run all the databases?”

“I sent her name, DOB, and description out everywhere—DMV,

IRS, missing persons—but the results are slow coming in. So far,

though, nothing.”

“Might not mean anything. Might not be anything to find.”

Allie smiled. Sometimes Ash and Reese were hard to tell apart. “I

know. The thing is…”

“What, baby?”

“Flynn caught the call this morning and transported the girl to the

clinic. And now it looks like…Well, it looks like she might be getting

involved.”

Silence on the line. Ash knew Allie and Flynn had dated. Ash

knew Allie had called it off too. Allie waited.

Sheltering DuneS

• 75 •

“Did Flynn tell you that?” Ash’s voice was neutral, casual.

“No. I bumped into her at the Piper and this girl was working

there. I talked to her and she just didn’t feel right. I ran it by Reese,

and she said to hold off until all the computer searches came in. I asked

Reese if I could keep an eye on things, just to get a sense of what was

going on.”

“Wait a minute. You just got home because, what? You were doing

surveillance? With who?”

“Nobody. I was just kind of keeping an eye on them.”

“Jesus, baby,” Ash said sharply. “What the hell is Reese thinking,

letting you do that solo? You’re barely healed from the last gunshot

wound.”

The hairs on the back of Allie’s neck stood up. If she’d been a dog,

she would’ve growled. She took a long breath. Fighting over the phone

was stupid. “Ash, I’m a cop, remember?”

More silence.

“Ash?”

“Yes, I remember,” Ash said. “Sorry. I love you. I worry.”

“I worry about you too.” Allie smiled and circled her fingertips

over the warmth in the center of her belly. “Well, there was nothing to

worry about, because nothing happened.”

“And if there’s any more surveillance to be done, you’ll do it with

backup?”

“Promise.”

“You know,” Ash said, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Oh yeah? How much?”

Allie laughed. “If I tell you, you’ll just get a big head.”

“Probably. But tell me anyway.”

“A lot. The bed is too big without you. And I’m horny.”

Ash chuckled. “Baby, you’re always horny.”

“Just hurry home.”

“I will.”

A rustling noise came over the phone. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed,” Ash said.

“Oh yeah? What are you wearing?”

“Besides a smile and a hard-on?”

Allie’s belly tightened. “That’s nice.”

“Speak for yourself. And I’m not wearing anything.”

• 76 •

RAdCLY fFE

Allie cupped her breasts, squeezing gently. Her nipples were hard,

aching. She rubbed them and her clit stiffened. “I don’t think it’s fair

that just talking to you gets me so horny.”

“Fair doesn’t enter into it. Have you been thinking about me all

night?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“How about I snuggle in next to you and warm you up?” Ash’s

voice turned silky and hot.

“I’d like that.” Allie closed her eyes and tucked the phone close

to her face on the pillow. She often woke up in the morning with Ash

curled around her, sheltering her in the curve of her body the way the

village, on its thin finger of sand, curved around the harbor, keeping

everyone within safe. With Ash holding her tight, she was protected.

Ash kept her safe—not just her body while she slept, but her heart with

every breath. “I love your hands on me.”

“Baby,” Ash whispered, “I love touching you. Do you want me to

touch you now?”

Allie cradled one breast in her palm and rolled the nipple lightly

between her fingers. She pressed the pads of the first two fingers of her

other hand against the base of her clitoris, feeling it beat in time to her

racing heart. “I want you to do a lot more than touch me. So hurry up

home.”

“We don’t have to wait, you know.”

“I know. I could come listening to the sound of your voice, but I

think I’ll wait.”

Ash chuckled. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not like me, I know.” Allie dipped one finger lower,

into the satiny heat, and moaned at the ripple of excitement.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re waiting. And if you don’t stop, there’s

no way I’m going to hold out.”

“I love wanting you as much as I love coming.”

“Aren’t we lucky we can have both.”

Allie thought about the endless nights after Ash left, of the women

she’d dated, trying to forget, and then, discovering she couldn’t forget,

the weeks when no one touched her. She hadn’t even wanted to come

by her own hand, because the orgasm was a lonely mockery of what she

really wanted. The single bright memory in all those weeks was Flynn.

“I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ash murmured.

“No, you don’t have to be. That’s behind us now.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 77 •

“But you still remember, I can tell.”

“I remember being without you.” Allie cupped herself, desire

making her swell, making her ache. The wanting was all the sweeter

for knowing Ash was hers. “I have you now. I’m not letting you go.

You’re mine.”

“Completely.”

“That’s all that matters.”

“Close your eyes and let me hold you while you sleep, baby,” Ash

said. “I love you. See you soon.”

“I love you too.”

Allie ended the call and closed her eyes. Ash was everywhere, in

her heart and her soul, and she would be there the next day, and the day

after that. That certainty was everything she needed.

v

Flynn rolled over and watched the moon track across the sky

through her bedroom window. She’d left it open even though the breeze

bordered on cold so she could hear the foghorn toll from the lighthouse

on Long Point. The smell of the sea reminded her of how insignificant

she was in the vast ocean of time, smaller than a speck of sand on the

shores of an endless universe. She would crumble under the weight of

her own inconsequentiality if she didn’t have some way to contribute

to that wonder.

Almost three a.m. Mica was probably asleep. Or perhaps she was

lying awake watching the same moon move across the cloud-strewn

sky, wondering, like Flynn, how the night might have been if Flynn

had accepted Mica’s invitation and gone upstairs with her. Flynn hadn’t

anticipated the invitation, even though Mica radiated loneliness. Flynn

recognized the shadows in Mica’s eyes and the sadness Mica tried to

hide. Mica was too strong and too stubborn to admit it, but some things

were impossible to hide. Flynn recognized a soul on the run.

Flynn laced her fingers behind her head and watched the shadows

flicker on her ceiling. Mica. What ghosts haunted her? What demons

chased her? And why shouldn’t two people help each other through the

night when they shared the same pain?

Sheltering DuneS

• 79 •

chapter ten

Reese,” Tory murmured sleepily, “where are you going?”

“To get the baby.” Reese leaned down and kissed Tory. “Go

back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“About five.”

Tory pushed up in bed. “You’re dressed for work. What’s

wrong?”

“Nothing. I just thought I’d go get her. You know she’s always up

early, and so is my mother.”

Tory shifted over and patted the bed next to her. “Sit down for a

minute.”

Reese sat. She knew what was coming, and like most times, she’d

have no answer. Before Tory could ask, she said, “Nothing’s wrong.

Really. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Were you having nightmares?”

Reese took Tory’s hand, threaded her fingers through Tory’s, and

kissed Tory’s knuckles. The dreams of running through the desert at

night, heart pounding and ears ringing, the sky overhead alight with

fireworks that might’ve been beautiful if they hadn’t been so deadly,

didn’t really count as nightmares, did they? How could something

she’d lived through really be a nightmare and not just a memory? “No.

I’m fine.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Tory rubbed her thumb over the top of

Reese’s hand. “But you don’t usually leave while I’m sleeping. I don’t

like waking up and finding you gone.”

Reese fished the piece of paper from the breast pocket of her

uniform shirt and held it up between two fingers. “I already had the

note written to put on my pillow where you’d see it. And besides, I was

• 80 •

RAdCLY fFE

coming back and Reggie and I were going to make breakfast. Really,

I just wanted you to sleep longer.” Reese hitched the sheet down until

she’d exposed a few inches of bare skin below Tory’s sleep shirt and

kissed her stomach. “After all, you’ve got a job to do and you need

your rest.”

Tory laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to make

things happen any faster at this point, including sleep.”

“Excited?”

Tory’s eyes sparkled. “I am. I want this.”

“I know. So do I.” Reese didn’t feel the slightest uncertainty

when she said it. She did want another baby. She just didn’t want Tory

endangered.

“Will it help if I tell you everything’s going to be all right?”

“Baby,” Reese murmured. “It always helps.”

“Well, if you’re up and breakfast is in the offing, I might as well

get up too.” Tory pushed the sheet the rest of the way off. “I’ll make

coffee and feed Jed while you collect our offspring.”

“Deal.” Reese got up, found Tory’s robe, and handed it to her.

“You know, part of the reason I like being a cop in the town where I live

is I feel like I can keep you safe by keeping everyone else safe. Does

that make sense?”

“Of course it does. Especially for you. You were raised to protect

and serve.” Tory wrapped her arms around Reese’s shoulders and

pressed against her, the robe on the bed, forgotten. “I love you for that.

And I love you because you’re getting up at the crack of dawn to get

our daughter and bring her home. I love you because tonight, when I’m

tired and wondering if I’m making any kind of difference at all, I’ll

be able to look at you and Reggie and know that I am. That I matter

because I’m in your life.”

Reese held Tory tightly against her chest and rubbed her cheek in

Tory’s hair. “You don’t just matter. You’re everything.”

“Like you are for me.” Tory kissed her jaw. “Go on now, Sheriff.

Important duty calls.”

v

Even after picking up Reggie, fixing pancakes with Reggie’s

help, and giving her a bath to repair the damage, Reese still got to the

department before seven. Other than the night deputy handling phones,

the place was empty. She pushed through the swinging gate that

Sheltering DuneS

• 81 •

separated the small seating area just inside the door from the rest of the

room where the desks for the patrol officers were located. She poured

herself a cup of coffee and walked into her office, a small cubicle with

big windows tucked into the back of the main room. She had a half

hour or so before roll call to review the reports from the night shift.

While not quite the off-season, the early fall was less busy in town than

the summer. The stack of reports was half the size it would have been

during the height of the tourist season. All the same, there’d been plenty

of activity—several traffic accidents, a handful of brawls, a lost child

thankfully recovered within a few minutes, and the random domestic

disturbance. She didn’t see anything from Allie, and she hadn’t expected

to. She’d given Allie an order to call her if she suspected any kind

of trouble, and Allie wouldn’t disobey. If anything had happened in

the unofficial surveillance Allie had been running on the girl with the

questionable identity, Allie would’ve called her.

Someone tapped on her open office door and she glanced up. She

expected to see Gladys, the dispatcher who seconded as a secretary,

civilian liaison, and just about anything else they needed in the

department by way of support staff. Allie Tremont, in uniform, waited

in the doorway instead.

“Come on in,” Reese said.

“Morning, Sheriff.” Allie carried a chipped white porcelain mug

with steam rising from the top. She had circles under her normally

vibrant deep brown eyes. This morning, their luster was dulled with

fatigue.

“Long night?” Reese asked.

“No, not really.” Allie dosed her coffee liberally with Splenda

and tossed the paper pack into the trash. “I got in about one or so,

but I couldn’t sleep. Ash is out of town—” She colored. “Sorry. Not

relevant.”

“That’s okay. I don’t sleep very well when Tory’s away either.”

Allie’s eyes widened. “Uh yeah.”

Reese guessed Allie’s surprise was because she didn’t usually talk

about anything personal while on the job, especially not with younger

officers who were barely more than rookies. Then again, Allie wasn’t a

rookie any longer. Allie had taken a bullet just a few weeks before and

had handled it like a veteran. She’d trust Allie at her back any day.

“I guess you get used to it,” Allie finally said. “Coming home to

an empty place, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Reese said. “I haven’t.”

• 82 •

RAdCLY fFE

Allie shot her a look of appreciation. “I don’t think I will either.

And she travels a lot.”

Reese nodded and sipped her coffee. “I take it nothing turned up

last night on your surveillance.”

Bri Parker appeared in the doorway. “What surveillance?”

“What is this, a party?” Reese asked. “Why are you both early?”

“No reason.” Bri looked sharp and alert, her khaki uniform

pressed within an inch of its life, razor-sharp creases in her pants and

shirtsleeves. Her boots were black mirrors. Her thick black hair was

trimmed just at her collar in the back and shorter along the sides. Even

though Bri was in her early twenties, Reese thought she might’ve grown

another inch or so in the last year. She had to be close to six feet now

and starting to fill out a little bit. She’d always been lanky, but now she

was beginning to muscle up.

“Sorry,” Bri said, shooting Allie a penetrating look. “I thought I

heard something about surveillance.”

“It’s nothing,” Allie said.

Bri’s brows drew down and she glanced from Reese to Allie. Her

jaw tightened. “Okay.” She spun on her heel and disappeared into the

squad room.

Allie sighed. “Any reason I can’t brief her?”

“None that I can see.” Reese smiled. “In fact, I’d recommend it.

Catch me up later if anything turns up on the girl.”

“Yes ma’am.” Allie jogged between the desks and plunked her

butt down on Bri’s desk. “Do you always have to be such a horse’s

ass?”Bri shuffled papers on her desk, not looking up. “I don’t know

what you’re talking about.”

“You damn well do. You’re upset because you think something

happened that you don’t know about. And you’re probably jealous that

I was talking to Reese—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Bri protested. “I’m not jealous of Reese.”

“Me then?”

Bri grinned and quickly smothered it. “Jesus, no. I haven’t lusted

after you for…a long time.”

“I’m broken-hearted.”

“You’re full of it too.” Bri glanced toward Reese’s office, but she’d

closed the door. “So what’s going on? If you were doing surveillance,

it must be something good.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Allie told Bri about her suspicions about

Sheltering DuneS

• 83 •

Mica, and her phone call to Reese. “There’s nothing solid at this point.

So you didn’t miss anything.”

“I don’t know, Al. I’d go with your gut. You need some help

running down the computer traces?”

“No, but thanks. At the rate they’re coming in, I’m not going to

get overwhelmed.”

“So you want to swing through town, see what’s cooking? We got

a few minutes before roll call.”

“I guess you’ll be riding with Carter again,” Allie said quietly.

“Now who’s jealous?”

“You wish.” Allie grabbed her uniform hat and settled it over her

brow. “Come on. Let’s see what’s shakin’.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 85 •

chapter eleven

Flynn ran along the harbor’s edge, skirting along the crescent

shoreline that extended from Long Point through the center

of town to the East End. The tide was on its way out, and the moist

sand left in its wake was dark and firm beneath her feet. Her footsteps

filled with water almost as soon as she made them, obliterating her path

within a few seconds, as if she had never been there at all.

The still air smelled of seaweed and brine. The sun blazed brightly

but the intense heat of summer was tempered by the first breath of fall.

Beneath a crystal-blue sky dotted with billowing white clouds, the harbor

glinted like a steel-gray mirror. Higher up the beach, early risers walked

barefoot, carrying their shoes in one hand and coffee cups in the other;

gulls circled and swooped, looking for scraps; and dog owners tossed

balls and sticks out into the water where sleek canine heads broke the

surface like schools of porpoises in pursuit. The day was as beautiful

as any she’d ever seen. As she ran, the shroud of a sleepless night fell

away and she breathed deeply, the excitement of a new day, ripe with

possibility, buoying her. Mornings were her favorite time—when the

defeats and disappointments of the day before had been distanced by

the dark, and dawn promised another chance.

Slowing, she checked the big black clock with gold hands on the

tower at Town Hall. Seven fifteen. She angled up the beach, sinking

into the soft dry sand with every step. The muscles in her calves ached

pleasantly, and a light sheen of sweat coated her bare arms and the

triangle of skin where the vee of her T-shirt exposed her chest. When

she reached the street, she thumped her running shoes against the edge

of the wooden sidewalk to shake loose the clumps of moist sand, giving

herself another few seconds to change her mind. When she couldn’t

delay without examining exactly why she was hesitating, she strode

• 86 •

RAdCLY fFE

down Commercial toward the West End where Mica worked. She’d

been thinking about seeing Mica again ever since she’d left her standing

outside her rooming house earlier in the week. When she’d gotten up

that morning, she’d told herself she was going for a run, but in the back

of her mind, her destination had always been the Shoreline.

The restaurant fronted the harbor, and once inside, she skirted

the tables in the main room and found a deuce near the railing on the

open-air deck that extended over the beach. While she was perusing

the menu, Mica appeared carrying a huge round tray laden with plates

to a table occupied by a party of six—two women, one Caucasian and

the other African American, and four children. Mica was as fast and

efficient serving food as she had been working the bar, but today, she

smiled at the kids and appeared to be making small talk. Her white

short-sleeved shirt was tucked into tapered black jeans that emphasized

her narrow waist and curvaceous hips. A tattoo, indistinct from so far

away, adorned her right upper arm. Her hair was down, the heavy black

waves blowing in the harbor breeze. Flynn’s mouth went dry. Mica was

all kinds of sexy.

Mica looked over, her lips pursing as her smile disappeared. Flynn

nodded and Mica set the tray on one of the empty tables and threaded

her way between the chairs over to Flynn. “What gives?”

Flynn smiled. “I was hoping for breakfast?”

“That’s what we do here.” Mica crossed her arms. The top two

buttons of her shirt were undone, and her bronze skin glistened. Her

jeans were cut so low the arch of each hipbone slanted beneath the

waistband, bold curves inviting the caress of hands.

Flynn almost told Mica she looked amazing, but caught herself just

in time. Mica had made it very clear that she didn’t trust compliments.

Flynn couldn’t ask her how she was feeling, even though she wanted

to know. Mica didn’t like to reveal personal information and didn’t like

being asked. Short of commenting on the weather, Flynn couldn’t think

of anything else to say except the truth. “I was thinking about you this

morning and I ended up here.”

“Yeah, right. Your breakfast order?”

“Poached eggs, wheat toast, chicken sausage.”

“Got it. You want juice?”

“Orange would be good.”

“Be a few minutes.”

“That’s okay. I don’t start my shift until nine.”

Mica turned away and Flynn settled back in her chair to watch the

Sheltering DuneS

• 87 •

boats. She had nothing on her mind, and the pressure she always felt

to be doing, moving, was strangely absent. Strange but not unpleasant.

She was waiting for Mica, nothing else, and that was okay.

v

While Mica waited for her orders to come up, she leaned against

a post in the main section of the restaurant and watched Flynn. She’d

pushed her chair back from the small table, extended her legs underneath,

and tilted her head against the back of the chair. Couldn’t be a very

comfortable position, but she looked good all the same. She must’ve

been out running. Her navy blue T-shirt with the paramedic emblem

on the chest had a dark diamond-shaped pattern down the center of her

chest. Sweat. Her hair lay in damp tendrils on her neck. Her bare arms,

still holding a summer tan, were sleek and lined with prominent veins

coursing over her wrists and the tops of her hands. She looked strong.

She looked damn good.

“Orders up,” the fry cook called and Mica went to fill her tray. She

served everyone else before Flynn, and by the time she reached her, it

looked like Flynn was asleep.

She almost didn’t want to disturb her. The tightness around

Flynn’s eyes and mouth, that she hadn’t realized was there until now,

had disappeared. Her face had relaxed, and she looked…younger. She

was always hot-looking, but now she was just beautiful.

“Hey,” Mica murmured close to Flynn’s ear, “wake up, your

breakfast is ready.”

Flynn shot upright, her eyes scanning rapidly. “What?”

“Yo,” Mica said. “Take it easy.”

Flynn scrubbed her face. “Sorry. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“Late-night action?” Mica grinned.

“Not exactly. I just didn’t sleep much.”

Mica almost said she hadn’t either. She rarely slept a night

through—waking up, heart racing, wondering if every sound in the

hall was someone on their way to her door. No way was she sharing

that, but she almost wanted to. Flynn had a way of catching her off

guard, simply because Flynn was never on guard herself. If Mica didn’t

know better, she’d think Flynn always told the truth. But that couldn’t

possibly be, because no one ever did. She slid the plate onto the table in

front of Flynn and set down her orange juice. She placed a cup of coffee

next to it. “Thought you could use this.”

• 88 •

RAdCLY fFE

Flynn grasped the mug, raised it up, and breathed deeply. “You are

so right. Thanks.”

“Well,” Mica said, remembering how they’d sat over sandwiches

the night Flynn walked her home, not talking much, just watching foot

traffic on Commercial and occasionally commenting on the sports

channel. She’d almost forgotten La Mara, and right now, she wished

she could pull out the chair opposite Flynn and sit down. Maybe ask

her what her day would be like. How she’d ended up in this town.

Why she wasn’t wearing a collar. She couldn’t remember the last time

she wanted to know anything about anyone in her life. What was even

scarier, she almost…almost…wanted to tell Flynn about hers. She

backed away from the table. “Enjoy it.”

“I will.” Flynn turned in her chair. “Mica?”

Mica hesitated. “Yeah?”

“You working tonight?”

“Every night, remember?”

“So maybe I’ll see you.”

Mica shrugged, ignoring the quick jump of her pulse.

“Whatever.”

Flynn smiled. “Yeah, whatever sounds good.”

Shaking her head, Mica beat a retreat. She didn’t understand Flynn

at all, and that couldn’t be a good thing. Could it?

v

Philadelphia

Detective Dellon Mitchell leaned down and kissed her girlfriend

on the mouth. “See you later, babe.”

Sandy Sullivan rolled over and grabbed Dell’s wrist, yanking her

down. She shoved the covers aside, exposing her warm nude body, and

kept pulling until Dell tumbled on top of her.

“Hey,” Dell said, laughing. “I’m geared up here, babe.”

“Yeah?” Sandy slid her hand up the inside of Dell’s thigh and

cupped her crotch. “I’m not feeling the love, baby.”

Dell reached under her black T-shirt, pulled her holster from the

waistband of her jeans, and dropped it onto the bedside table by feel.

Sliding her thigh between Sandy’s, she covered Sandy’s smaller body

easily and kissed her hard, slipping her tongue into Sandy’s mouth,

Sheltering DuneS

• 89 •

tasting her heat and the leftover remnants of the peppermint toothpaste

she’d used at bedtime. “Not that kind of gear.”

“No problem.” Sandy wrapped her legs around Dell’s hips and

squirmed underneath her. “You always feel good, no matter what kind

of gear you’re packing.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so.” Dell nibbled on Sandy’s lower lip,

thinking if Sandy kept it up she’d have to change her pants, because one

of them was gonna leave a wet spot somewhere. But what the hell, she

had plenty of jeans. Sandy arched her back and stretched under her like

a cat. A big, tempting cat.

“Mmm,” Sandy murmured, “isn’t it too early to be going to

work?”

Dell kissed Sandy’s nose. “For rookie patrol officers, maybe, but

not for us big bad detectives.”

“Oh, kiss my ass too.” Sandy shoved at Dell’s chest, but Dell

didn’t budge. Instead, she nuzzled Sandy’s neck and bit lightly at the

soft, fragrant skin above her collarbone. Sandy was still soft in all the

right places, but the police academy training had given her muscles

where she didn’t used to have them. Dell had always loved how girly

Sandy could be while she was smiling sweetly and busting your balls.

She was still girly, still as sexy as she had been the first time Dell had

seen her in a micro miniskirt and a skimpy top that barely covered

her breasts, and what was even better now—Sandy was all hers. Dell

sucked at the spot she’d just bitten.

Sandy slapped Dell on the shoulder. “Cut that out. I can’t go to

work with a hickey. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Hey, babe, everyone knows you’re mine. So they all know what a

stud you’re married t—” Dell laughed harder when Sandy punched her

in the arm. Damn it, that was going to leave a bruise. “Ow. Hey!”

Sandy grabbed a handful of Dell’s hair and tugged her head back.

Sandy’s eyes were a brilliant blazing blue, her blond hair still short and

spiky. Everything about her was hot, hot, hot. “You better not be talking

about your studly activities around the squad. It’s enough I have to live

down the fact I’m a hooker—”

“Were a hooker.” Dell kissed Sandy again, slower and softer.

“Were, baby, and you’ve always been a lot more than that.”

Sandy had just finished the police academy, and though she never

complained, she’d had a hard time with some of her classmates who

didn’t think she belonged there. Dell would’ve kicked some ass over

• 90 •

RAdCLY fFE

the subtle harassment, but she knew that wouldn’t help Sandy’s case.

Sandy wouldn’t want her to get in the middle, either, but Sandy never

wanted anyone to stand up for her. Sandy was too used to going it alone

after years on the street, and as much as Dell wanted to protect her, she

respected Sandy too much to smother her. But she wouldn’t stand by

and let anyone hurt her either. So maybe she had mentioned here or

there that Sandy had a rabbi. That just maybe that rabbi was Detective

Lieutenant Rebecca Frye. Everyone knew, from a wet-behind-the-ears

rookie to a seasoned detective, that if you had Frye behind you, you’d

earned it, and then some. Because Rebecca Frye didn’t give an inch

for anyone. So when word had gotten around that Frye had sponsored

Sandy’s admission to the academy, the grumbling stopped. And then

Sandy had taken care of the rest. She’d proven herself in the field and

in the classroom.

“You finished at the top of your class, babe,” Dell said. “You

earned respect.”

“I know.” Sandy eased out from under Dell until they were lying

face-to-face on the pillow, arms and legs entwined. She stroked Dell’s

cheek. “Most of the time it doesn’t bother me. But I don’t want people

thinking less of you because of me.”

Dell sucked in a breath and leaned her forehead against Sandy’s.

Could her girlfriend be any crazier? Didn’t Sandy know by now she

was the best thing to ever come into her life? “You know that’s a load of

crap, right? Because I get so many points for having a blazing girlfriend

like you, my rep is untouchable. Believe me, I want everyone to know

you’re my girl.”

“Yeah, yeah, Rookie,” Sandy said, still calling Dell by the

nickname she’d used since the first time she’d seen her. “You’ll say

anything to get in my pants.”

“True.” Dell kissed the tip of Sandy’s chin and pulled her closer

until their breasts and bellies and thighs melded. “But I love you like

crazy too. I’d be so screwed without you.”

“Not happening,” Sandy whispered.

There’d been a time when Sandy would’ve looked away,

disbelieving her. Or worse, walked away. A time when Sandy hadn’t

believed anyone could love her. Hadn’t believed anyone could want

her for more than a quick fuck in a dark alley. Even now, sometimes,

Dell could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, when the memories

came back too hard. But most of the time, Dell succeeded in making

Sandy believe how special she was, and how much she needed her. If it

Sheltering DuneS

• 91 •

took her a hundred years, she was going to make sure Sandy believed

all the way through how special she was. Besides, telling Sandy she

loved her made her feel good too.

“You’re it for me, babe.”

“You’re awfully smooth, you know.” Sandy tucked her head in the

bend of Dell’s shoulder and rubbed her bare breasts over Dell’s chest.

“I don’t suppose you have time to fuck me, do you?”

Sandy’s breath was fire against Dell’s throat, and her clit shot up

hard. “Oh man, that’s it. I wish I could, babe, but the Loo called for an

early briefing this morning, and you know I can’t be late.”

“Sometimes I wish you were just a regular detective and not

on Frye’s super-duper elite HPC squad. Then you could blow off the

schedule once in a while like everybody else I see is doing down at

Police Plaza.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t fit in down there any better than I do. If

you weren’t working high-profile crimes, you’d be so miserable I’d

probably never get laid.” Sandy grinned. “So what will you be doing

all day while I’m riding around in a patrol car with my training officer,

being lectured to and treated like I don’t have two brain cells to rub

together?”

Dell stifled a laugh. Being a trainee sucked, but everyone had to

do it, and part of the TO’s job was to bust on the trainees to make sure

they didn’t get themselves or someone else killed the first time they

went out on their own. Still, it was tough on the ego, and for someone

as independent as Sandy, even harder. “After the briefing? The same

thing I’ve been doing for the last six months—working the streets,

talking up the CIs, trying to find a way back into Zamora’s operation.

Ever since we took down their Eastern European pipeline, everything

has gone dead quiet. We can’t get a handle on anything—girls, dope,

guns. The lieutenant thinks there’s been a power shift, maybe with the

Colombians or Salvadorans moving in. But if anybody knows, they’re

not talking.”

“Something will break,” Sandy said. “The streets never stay quiet

for long.”

Slowly running her fingers down Sandy’s back, Dell settled back

for another minute of peace. Sandy was right. Something would pop,

soon, and when it did, things would get real hot, real fast. She couldn’t

wait.

Sheltering DuneS

• 93 •

chapter twelve

Philadelphia

“Fuck!” Hector rolled off the girl whimpering underneath him and

pulled the cell phone from the back pocket of his pants. His jeans were

halfway down his thighs, and he grabbed the bitch’s hand and wrapped

it around his still-hard dick. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Yeah,

what?”

“We got a lead off the cousin’s cell log,” Carmen said.

“Tell me you know where she is.” Hector squeezed the girl’s hand

around his cock and dragged her fist up and down, showing her how

he liked it.

“Not yet, but we got a good idea of where she was headed.”

“Where?” Hector pushed up in bed, slapped the girl’s hand off his

softening cock, and shoved his junk into his jeans. Some girls you just

couldn’t teach. They acted like they’d never seen a stiff cock before. He

made a mental note to hand this bitch off to one of his lieutenants. She

was a lousy fuck.

“Somewhere in Massachusetts.”

“What the fuck is she doing there? You sure?”

“She called her cousin a few times right after she took off.

First time was New York City—maybe she took a bus or something.

Then a couple more times, once in Connecticut and another time in

Massachusetts. The last time pretty close to Cape Cod.”

“What the fuck is out there?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been anywhere except to Jersey City on

a run.”

“You got a town name or something?”

“Not yet—our guy at the phone company can tell general area,

• 94 •

RAdCLY fFE

you know like area codes or some shit like that—but with cell phones,

not cities necessarily.”

“How does that help us?”

Carmen grunted. “We know where to look, we reached out to a

few friends up there. She can’t hide forever. She’s got no money, no

friends, no family. We ask around, we’ll find her.”

“We need to get to her before she does something stupid and

the cops pick her up. Besides, rules are rules.” The MS-13 had one

fundamental rule, and everyone knew it—once in, you never left. Not

unless you were dead. If you tried, you would be dead.

“Yo, boss, I hear you.”

“Good. We don’t want the members to think anybody can walk

away from us, no matter who they are.” He didn’t want to do it, but the

stupid bitch wasn’t leaving him any choice. Mia had been gone too long

for him to keep it from the higher-ups, and he couldn’t have his troops

thinking he couldn’t control his own woman. She needed to come back,

one way or the other. And soon. “Find her. I don’t care who you have

to hurt.”

v

Provincetown

“You care if I put on the ballgame?” Dave asked.

Flynn looked over from where she sat on the threadbare mustard-

colored sofa in the squad ready room, reading a history of gravestone

carvings in New England cemeteries. Old churches fascinated her. Her

father and his father and his before him, as far back as the family tree

could be traced, had been clergymen. She and her twin had grown up

immersed in symbolism and lore. She’d spent hours in the myriad small

cemeteries tucked away in wooded groves on country roads, behind

abandoned gas stations, or nestled in the bends of meandering creeks—

reading names, tracing family lineages, imagining the lives that had

passed over the same ground she had just walked. Continuity, the

connections between things past, present, and to come, gave her a sense

of purpose and rendered some meaning to the enormity of existence.

She tossed the book aside. She hadn’t really been concentrating well

enough to read it anyhow. “Who’s playing?”

“The Sox and—”

“That’s enough for me. Sure.” Flynn welcomed the diversion.

Sheltering DuneS

• 95 •

Usually she could lose herself in a book, and when history failed, the

Scriptures usually provided enough questions to keep her mind focused.

But not this afternoon. She kept thinking back to breakfast, and Mica.

Mysteries intrigued her as much as history, and Mica was nothing if not

a mystery. If Flynn judged by their conversations alone, she’d have to

conclude Mica didn’t want anything to do with her. Mica sent out clear

stay-away vibes, at least verbally, and Flynn wasn’t one to push where

she wasn’t wanted. She had the feeling Mica had been pushed plenty in

her life. No one ran away from a happy existence.

But people gave off other signals besides verbal, silent messages

Flynn often paid more attention to than what was said. Too often,

people said what they thought they should say, or hid their feelings

behind anger or gallows humor or sexual innuendo. But people were

often unaware of their body language, which made their feelings harder

to hide.

Mica wasn’t an easy read. She was good at hiding what she felt,

physically and in conversation, but Flynn was very good at discerning

the little signs that others might miss. Her ability to hear the unspoken

had been honed in a family where preserving the peace had been more

important than dealing with hard truths, and those skills had been refined

in the seminary. Other than administering the sacraments, a priest didn’t

have a much more important function than to recognize the truth. If one

couldn’t, how could one possibly preach? So she’d watched Mica while

she was eating breakfast, when Mica wasn’t watching her. Mica had

been constantly busy, serving tables that had filled rapidly after eight

when tourists and townspeople alike began to venture out. Flynn took

her time over her meal. She enjoyed watching Mica thread her way

between tables, talking and occasionally laughing with customers. She

moved quickly, confidently, sensuously. And every now and then when

Mica had finished taking an order or while she was clearing a table,

she’d glance in Flynn’s direction. Mica’d been aware of her, and that

meant something.

When Flynn had gone to the register to pay her bill, Mica had

passed by carrying a tray laden with dishes and glasses to be washed.

“I’ll see you later,” Flynn said.

Mica shot her a glance, as if she hadn’t expected her to be there,

but she’d smiled, and the smile had been warm with a whisper of

pleasure along the edges.

Yes, Mica had noticed her. And from a woman like Mica, that

counted a lot.

• 96 •

RAdCLY fFE

“You okay?” Dave asked.

“Sure. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Okay. You want to drive tonight?”

Flynn smiled at the ultimate gesture of friendship. “No, you go

ahead. I’m good riding shotgun.”

Dave smiled, looking relieved. “Okay, then.”

“Go ahead and turn on the—”

The siren blared and a second later Flynn’s radio sounded a

callout. She and Dave jogged to the garage and clambered into their

unit. Flynn strapped in and logged on to the mobile computer terminal

to read out the details from dispatch. “Female assaulted at Commercial

and Dyer. Police on scene.” Flynn’s chest seized. That was half a block

from Mica’s apartment. “Let’s go.”

Dave took them out with a screech of tires as Flynn flipped on the

siren and started her incident report. Lots of other houses in that area.

Lots of street traffic. The victim could be anyone. Besides, Mica was

working.

Flynn glanced at her watch. Two in the afternoon. She counted

backward in her head. Yesterday Mica had said she started at six thirty.

She was probably off now, and if she’d walked home, she’d be right

about at the location of the presumed assault. Flynn hissed in a breath, a

hard lump forming into the pit of her stomach. She keyed the dispatcher

on the dashboard microphone. “Name or description?”

“Don’t have anything yet, hon. All I know is it’s a woman and

she’s apparently pretty banged up.”

“Okay, thanks.” Flynn vibrated with the warning bells clanging in

her head. She didn’t believe in coincidence. She had never believed in

an elaborate grand plan where humans were only fixtures, destined to

play out some unknown pageant decided upon by a higher power. But

she did believe in fate. She believed some events were destined, but

humans had free will. Sometimes life-changing circumstances arose

that challenged and tested, and the decisions people made altered the

shape of their destiny. Just as she had faith in the amazing capacity of

humans to change, to grow, and to impact their destinies through their

own actions, she also knew there were mysteries in the universe that

defied explanation—mysteries and wonders that spoke of more than the

finite universe of humanity.

Her instinct was to reach out to those who crossed her path, those

whose lives touched hers. To fulfill her mission, she’d learned to keep

herself apart, and when she’d failed, she’d abandoned her calling for a

Sheltering DuneS

• 97 •

new life. But she couldn’t change who she was. Mica touched her, and

she could no more deny that than she could deny her faith. She feared

another test was coming, and Mica was part of it.

Flynn pointed to a side street blocked by a police cruiser.

“There.”

“I see it,” Dave said. “I’m gonna have to get up on the sidewalk to

get the unit in there.”

“Let me out here.” Flynn popped the seat belt and pushed her door

open.“Hold on! Let me stop before you fall out and I have to put you

on a gurney.”

Flynn jumped down, keyed the equipment compartment on the

side of the unit, and pulled out her FAT box. “I’ll meet you there.”

Running ahead, she shouldered through the crowd of onlookers

and made her way down a narrow alley between a bed-and-breakfast

and an art gallery. Allie knelt on the uneven stones next to someone with

long dark hair. A dark wet stain spread out from beneath the victim’s

head. Flynn’s stomach clenched. A second later her training took over,

and her mind cleared. She squatted next to Allie and opened the trauma

kit. Allie gave her a quick glance. “Late twenties, unconscious when

we arrived. We’re not sure when the incident occurred.”

The woman’s face was swollen with purplish bruises and scattered

lacerations. Dried blood caked her mouth and her left eye. Rust-colored

specks scattered her white shirt—more blood, almost certainly hers.

Her stomach was exposed where her blouse had been pulled from her

jeans, but her pants were still buttoned and zipped. Flynn’s breathing

slowed. This wasn’t Mica.

“My name is Flynn,” she said, beginning the introduction she

always used whether the victim appeared to be unconscious or not. The

human mind registered all kinds of stimuli even when an individual

appeared to be comatose. While she talked, she checked that the

woman’s airway was clear and inserted a short plastic airway to keep

her tongue from sliding back and blocking her trachea; she listened

for breath sounds on both sides, checked vital signs, and did a quick

cursory exam.

Dave arrived, took in the scene, and set about starting an IV.

“I’ll call Tory,” Flynn said, “but I think we’ll need to transport

right to Hyannis. She’s going to need a CAT scan and observation.”

“I’ll call her,” Allie said, her face tight with suppressed anger. “I’m

• 98 •

RAdCLY fFE

going with you. We’re going to need her statement as soon as possible.

Latimer is already canvassing the neighbors.”

“Thanks,” Flynn said.

Allie walked away and Dave said, “I’ll get the gurney.”

Flynn secured the victim’s neck with a cervical collar, and she and

Dave rolled her onto a backboard and transported her to the gurney.

They pushed the gurney up the steep uneven path to the road and toward

the unit. The crowd had grown in the few minutes she’d been there, and

she spied a familiar face.

Mica stood on the sidewalk, her face pale. Flynn climbed into the

unit, secured the gurney, and leaned out to close the rear doors while

Dave headed for the cab. She motioned Mica over, and after a second’s

hesitation Mica slipped between the onlookers and appeared beside the

open doors.

“Are you okay?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah,” Mica said quietly, without her usual comeback. “Is she

okay?”

“I don’t know yet.” Flynn grabbed the handles on the doors. “I

have to go now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Sure.” Mica stepped back as Flynn pulled the doors

closed.

“Be careful, okay?” Flynn said.

As the unit pulled away and Mica disappeared from view, her

voice carried to Flynn. “You too.”

Flynn settled next to the patient for the ride up-Cape. She wished

she didn’t have to leave right now. Mica had looked scared, and she

wanted to know why. Even more, she wanted to be sure no one hurt

her.

Sheltering DuneS

• 99 •

chapter thirteen

Hyannis, MA

Allie paced outside the closed curtain of the emergency room

cubicle, waiting for the green light from the emergency room doctors to

interview the victim. Flynn had stopped for a second to brief her when

they’d all arrived. The girl had regained consciousness in the medic

unit during transport and was talking a little bit, but not very much and

not very coherently.

Allie’s anger simmered just beneath the surface, a scalding tide

that burned through her, a fury she couldn’t walk off and she needed to.

She had a job to do; she couldn’t let her outrage distract her. She hated

seeing anyone get hurt under any circumstances, but when women were

assaulted, she could barely keep her fury under control. Someone had

done that to Bri once, and every time she saw a woman lying battered

and bruised and bloody, she imagined what it must have been like for

Bri, only a teenager at the time. Imagining how Bri must have suffered,

how terrified Caroline must have been, made Allie half-crazy. As

much as she missed being partnered with Bri, she was glad Bri hadn’t

been riding with her today. Even though she knew Bri could handle it,

probably better than she could, Bri couldn’t possibly be unaffected by

what had been done to that girl.

Allie ached to find the animal who had done this. She wanted

him on the ground on his belly, with her knee in his back and her cuffs

clamped down around his wrists. She wanted him to feel helpless, the

way this girl must have felt helpless, and she wanted justice. Not for

some ideological principle of right and wrong, but for something very,

very practical. She wanted the girl bleeding behind that curtain to have

• 100 •

RAdCLY fFE

the satisfaction of seeing whoever did this to her pay. Her job was to

find him and to deliver him for judgment.

The curtain twitched and Flynn stepped out. “It’ll be another few

minutes.”

“How is she doing?”

“Concussion, probably a fractured orbit. They don’t think her

jaw’s broken, though, and there isn’t any sign of internal injury.”

“That’s good, then,” Allie said, thinking nothing about this could

be good.

Flynn leaned against the wall, her hands in the pockets of her navy

blue uniform pants. She looked tired and worn.

“You okay?” Allie asked.

“Yeah,” Flynn said. “I just really hate this, you know?”

Allie suppressed the urge to touch her. Flynn stirred something

in her, the desire to comfort and protect. But there was just enough

tension still humming between them for her to know that trying to be

the person to ease Flynn’s pain was a bad idea. She didn’t want Flynn,

not the way Flynn needed, and they both knew it. But she couldn’t

turn her thoughts and feelings off like a water faucet either. She knew

where she belonged. She belonged with Ash, had loved Ash from the

first moment she’d seen her, and would always love her. But Flynn was

special, and Allie ached to see the unhappiness in her eyes. “How’ve

you been really?”

Flynn smiled, that slow, tender smile that was so damn sexy. “I’m

tougher than you think.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Allie remembered the night they’d

almost made love in Flynn’s apartment. Flynn had moved over her with

power and certainty. Flynn had been intense, passionate, in charge.

Flynn might be one of the gentlest women Allie had ever met, but that

gentleness covered a core of steel.

“So don’t worry, okay?” Flynn said. “I’m good. We’re good.”

“I’m glad. Really glad. So what about you and your new friend?”

Allie asked, knowing that was a lame-ass way to go about things but

not knowing any better way to do it.

“My friend?” Flynn pushed hard away from the wall. “You mean

Mica?”

“Mica. Right. How much do you know about her?”

“Why are you asking?” Flynn had an edge in her voice.

“I was following up after the vehicular incident, and I can’t seem

to find her in the databases.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 101 •

“Following up.”

“It’s my job, Flynn.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to find.”

“Yeah, that seems to be everyone’s opinion,” Allie said.

“But not yours?”

“Come on, Flynn.” Allie lowered her voice. “You have to admit

her behavior is suspicious.”

“Other than skipping out on a medical exam, I can’t see that she’s

done anything wrong. She doesn’t have insurance. She wouldn’t be the

first person to avoid medical care because they can’t afford it.”

“If that’s all it was, I’d agree with you. But she’s evasive, she

looks like she’s hiding something, and when you put that together with

the fact that her ID is probably fake—you have to come up with the

same answer I did. She’s either in trouble or she is trouble.”

“Sometimes, Allie,” Flynn said tightly, “people are just scared.

Sometimes they have a really good reason to be.”

“Do you think I’ve never been scared, Flynn? Do you think I

wasn’t scared when I thought Ash might have died? When I was facing

down a gun in the street?”

Flynn winced. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I know you’re doing your

job. Just don’t jump to any conclusions.”

“I won’t. I promise. But you need to promise me something too,”

Allie said. “Just be careful. You’re too damn trusting, Flynn. You’re

too kind.”

“You’re wrong, Allie. You don’t know me as well as you think.”

Flynn sighed. “I have to get back. Call me if you find out anything from

the patient?”

“I will.” Allie noticed Flynn had not answered her question.

Whatever she knew about Mica, she wasn’t telling.

v

Provincetown

Mica emptied a bucket of ice into the sink underneath the bar, one

eye on the front door. She felt stupid watching for Flynn to come in,

and even dumber when she acknowledged the fluttery feeling in her

stomach that had been there since she got to work at six thirty. She’d

never gotten excited about seeing anyone before. She hadn’t really

dated anyone except a couple of boys when she was eleven or twelve,

• 102 •

RAdCLY fFE

and she’d figured out really quickly that they didn’t do anything for

her. She’d never really thought about dating girls, even though there

was a group of chicks, a girl gang, who hung out together and fucked

each other and everybody knew it. Those girls had to fight a lot to keep

together, but that wasn’t why she stayed away from them. She wasn’t

afraid of a fight—she just hadn’t seen herself as one of them. Some of

them were Hispanic, a bunch were white, some were African American,

but their identity was different than hers. They were together because

they were queer. She hung with her people, the ones who spoke her

language—the language of the streets. She sided with the ones who

understood what it was like to live where she lived, speak as she spoke,

fight the same enemies. She went with the ones who just might be able to

protect her. And then when she was inside, she didn’t have any choice.

There were girls in MS-13 who liked other girls—she knew from the

whispered hook-ups she overheard when the guys weren’t around, but

they didn’t get it on openly. The girls were there to serve the men, and

those who wouldn’t didn’t last very long.

And now here she was, running from the life, running for her

life, and getting all worked up about some girl she didn’t even know.

Not just any girl either. A freakin’ priest. What did that mean, exactly?

How did that work? She had no reason to care that Flynn said she was

coming by, but she did. Like she said, stupid.

“Hi, Mica,” Flynn said as she slid onto a bar stool.

Mica straightened, swinging the empty white plastic bucket in her

right hand. She’d been watching for Flynn all night and then missed her

entrance while she was daydreaming. What if Flynn had been someone

else? What if she’d been one of Hector’s scouts? She was going to get

herself killed. “Hey.”

“How’s it going?”

“Same as any other night.” Mica glanced down the bar. The crowd

was light and the bartender was chatting with a regular. She needed an

excuse to keep working and ignore Flynn, but she wasn’t really pressed

to do anything right then. And she didn’t really want to ignore her.

Flynn looked good. Black sweater, blue jeans, boots. Nice tight, lean

body. Nice face. Really, really nice face. “You don’t look like the bar

type to me.”

Flynn laughed. “I’m not sure what that is, but I mostly come in

here to relax.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Most nights. But that’s not why I’m here tonight.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 103 •

Lightning sizzled through Mica’s blood. “Oh yeah? Why are you

here?”“To see you.”

Mica drew a blank. She didn’t have a comeback. She couldn’t

get used to Flynn always answering a question with what sounded

like simple truth. But then, how would she know what simple truth

sounded like? She’d learned pretty early that what should have been

simple truths never were—I love you meant I want to own you, you’re

beautiful meant I want to fuck you, I’ll always be here for you meant

I’ll be around as long as I get something out of it. She shivered.

“Are you okay?” Flynn asked.

Mica shrugged angrily, as if she could shake off the past. “I

meant, why are you here in this town? Shouldn’t you be in a parish

somewhere?”

“Could I have a beer?”

“I’m not a bartender.”

“Okay. Then how about I get a beer when the bartender is ready,

and I drink it while you work. Then later, when you’re not working, I’ll

tell you what you want to know.”

“Why?”

“Because you asked. And because I want to tell you.” Flynn

reached across the bar and touched Mica’s arm. Her fingertips were

warm, soft. Like her lips had been. Mica’s skin tingled all over, as if

electricity were shooting out from the small spots where Flynn touched,

heating her body like an electric coil on a stove. “I don’t have anyone

else I want to tell, Mica.”

“I don’t understand you,” Mica said.

“I’m not complicated. When I look at you, I feel things.”

Mica swallowed. This was crazy. She shouldn’t be here like this.

She shouldn’t care what Flynn said next, but she did. “What things?”

Flynn smiled. “Are you sure you want to know? Some of them

might be X-rated.”

“Just some of them?” Mica tried to sound dismissive, but she

wanted to laugh too. Flynn made her want to laugh. No one ever had

before. “Spill.”

“I think you’re beautiful. You make a spot inside my chest glow,

like sunlight on my skin, only inside. I think you’re tough and strong,

and that makes my heart race a little bit. Sometimes I think you’re sad,

and I want to make you smile. You make me feel all kinds of things, and

when I think about you, I want more.”

• 104 •

RAdCLY fFE

“If I thought you really meant all of that—”

“I do. Someday I hope you’ll believe me.”

Mica almost believed her now. Flynn was easy to believe. Flynn

was going to make her weak, make her vulnerable, and if that happened,

Flynn was going to get her dead.

“You don’t want to get involved with me, Flynn,” Mica said

softly.“How do you know?”

“Because I know you don’t know me.”

“Then let me. I’ll talk to you and you can talk to me. That’s how

it works.”

“You don’t know how anything works in my world.”

Flynn slid her fingers down Mica’s arm and grasped her fingers.

Flynn’s hold was gentle, but firm. Certain. And the heat shot lower, into

Mica’s depths.

“Then teach me. Let me learn you.”

Mica trembled. Her belly flared and for a second, her head grew as

light as her heart. “And then what do I do when you walk away?”

“Why isn’t it easier to start out thinking I won’t?”

Mica shook her head vehemently. “I can’t.”

“Give me a chance, Mica. Please.”

How could she say no? No one had ever given her a choice before.

They’d taken or commanded or threatened. But they’d never stood

before her completely open and vulnerable and given her the choice

to stay or walk away. She threaded her fingers through Flynn’s and the

connection felt right. Scary, but right.

“I’m on a short shift tonight. Ten o’clock?”

“I’ll wait.”

“I’ll get you that beer—draft, right?”

“You remembered.” Flynn smiled, and a blaze ignited in Mica as

if Flynn had poured gas on kindling. Mica didn’t run. She was going to

burn for this, but she couldn’t run from the promise in Flynn’s eyes.

Sheltering DuneS

• 105 •

chapter fOurteen

Allie awakened to the sound of the lock on the front door

sliding home and footsteps crossing the living room toward

the open bedroom door. She didn’t turn on the bedside light. She liked

waiting in the dark for Ash. One or the other of them so often returned

during the middle of the night after a late shift or an out-of-town job,

they’d gotten used to moving around the bedroom by memory. She liked

lying under the covers, absorbing the small sounds of Ash emptying

her pockets, piling change and keys and her wallet on the dresser,

taking off her clothes. Those small familiar tasks of Ash coming home

to her made Allie think of permanence, of an endless tomorrow. The

safety and certainty of that future warmed her as much as knowing in

another minute Ash’s hard, strong body would slide next to hers. Ash

approached the bed, and Allie pulled the sheets back.

Ash lay down with a sigh. “Hi, babe.”

“Hi, baby,” Allie whispered.

“Sorry to wake you. I didn’t think you’d be in bed.”

“I didn’t sleep much last night, so I turned in early tonight. It isn’t

late, is it?”

“Just a little after ten.” Ash turned on her side and drew Allie

against her.

When Ash kissed her, the last shadows of worry and longing

disappeared from Allie’s mind. Right at that moment, all she knew was

Ash was here, and hers. “I love you.”

Ash stroked her back and kissed her throat. “I love you too. You

okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Allie pulled Ash on top of her, opening her legs so

Ash could settle between her thighs. She stretched beneath Ash, fitting

• 106 •

RAdCLY fFE

her breasts and her belly into the solid planes of Ash’s body. “I’m really,

really good right now. I bet in a few minutes, I could be even better.”

Chuckling at the not-so-subtle message, Ash braced herself on her

elbows and skated her mouth over Allie’s. The feel of Allie’s warm

pliant flesh, the scent of her—light and sweet with an undertone of dark

orchids—went through her like a knife. Wanting her was a sweet agony

she would gladly bleed for. “Jesus, I missed you so much.”

“Do you think you always will?”

“Babe, I’m sure of it.” Ash skimmed her open mouth over Allie’s

breast, scraping her teeth lightly over Allie’s nipple.

Allie made a soft purring sound in her throat, the kind of sound she

made when she was happy and turned on. Ash loved pulling that moan

from her, almost as much she loved Allie’s cries of pleasure when she

came. She rocked her hips between Allie’s, slipping her tongue deeper

into her mouth, stroking slowly in all the places she knew got Allie even

hotter. When she’d been away for a few days, Allie was always on edge

when she got home. Allie was going to need a lot more reassurance to

convince her she wasn’t walking out on her again. A lot more time, a

lot more reassurance, and a lot more moments like this. Sex was more

than just physical pleasure for Allie. For her too, but Allie was one of

the most passionate women she’d ever met. Allie connected with others

in a lot of different ways, but sex was definitely one of her most intense

forms of expression. Allie absorbed sensation with every glance, pulled

in emotion through her fingertips with every touch. Making love to

Allie was just one way to prove she was staying—and definitely no

hardship.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we talked last night.” Ash

wanted to be the one to fill her, to satisfy her, to convince her she’d be

there every single day from now on. She caressed Allie’s belly, stroking

softly until Allie’s hips lifted and her legs went tight.

“Ash,” Allie murmured, half warning, half plea, “I’ve been ready

since last night. If you’re not careful—”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to be very, very careful.” Ash slid her

fingers between Allie’s legs, finding the silken path that took her home.

She entered Allie in a long smooth thrust, and Allie gasped. Sometimes

she took Allie slow, sometimes she liked to tease her until she begged,

but after she’d been away a while, she took her fast the first time,

reminding Allie of what was theirs alone. She kissed her mouth, pushed

deeper, filled her until there was no space between them. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Allie murmured, her fingers digging into Ash’s

Sheltering DuneS

• 107 •

shoulders. “More than I ever…thought…oh God, Ash, I’m going to

come.”

“That’s right, babe, that’s right.” Ash clenched her teeth, her clit

pounding, the urgency in her loins painting her vision red. She wanted

to own her, down to her last fiber, she wanted to move her the way no

one else ever would or ever could, the possessive passion driving her

nearly insane. She picked up her pace and Allie came, squeezing down

around her fingers, twisting and whimpering.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Allie cried. “I’m going to come again,

baby. Don’t stop.”

“I know, I know,” Ash whispered. She slowed, but didn’t stop—

moving deeper with each tight stroke. The tide of Allie’s pleasure caught

her by surprise, and before she could get control, she went under. “I

can’t…I’m coming. God Allie, touch me—hurry.”

Ash lifted her hips and Allie scissored her fingers around Ash’s

clit. Allie squeezed erratically, her attention fractured by the orgasm

breaking inside her.

“Harder,” Ash groaned. “I’m almost there. Harder, please. Please,

oh fuck.”

“Ash!” Allie bucked under her and Ash exploded, coming hard in

Allie’s hand. Her mind gave way, her breath gave out, and she crumpled,

helpless and drained. Allie wrapped her up in her arms, and Ash closed

her eyes. She’d wanted to comfort Allie and found peace instead.

v

“All set.” Mica grabbed her denim jacket from a peg on the wall

behind the bar and swung around the end to join Flynn.

Flynn pushed her half-finished beer aside and they walked outside.

The streets had come alive and were filled with couples strolling hand

in hand, groups of boisterous club crawlers, families with tired children

in tow. Despite the still-warm days, the nights were cool, and Flynn put

her hands in her pants pockets.

“Cold?” Mica asked.

Flynn smiled. “A little bit.”

“You want my jacket?”

“Then you’ll be cold.”

Mica hunched a shoulder. “I don’t get cold that easily.” She looked

Flynn up and down. “Except I don’t think it’ll fit you.”

“I appreciate you offering. I’ll warm up in a few minutes.” Flynn

• 108 •

RAdCLY fFE

hesitated. “Although I suppose you could put your arm around me and

get me warmer all that much faster.”

Mica laughed. “You are so obvious.”

“I need practice.”

“Seriously.” Mica slowed, seemed to study Flynn’s face. She

wrapped her arm around Flynn’s waist. “Better?”

Flynn’s pulse jumped into the stratosphere. Mica was smaller than

her, an inch or two shorter, more delicate appearing, but the arm around

her waist was firm and strong and she liked the way it felt. “Much,

much better.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Why? You think I need taking care of and you don’t?” Mica

didn’t let go of her, but she sounded angry.

“It’s not that,” Flynn said. “I’m just not used to it.”

“Not used to what?”

Flynn sighed. “Being taken care of, I guess.” She’d never really

been with a woman she could lean on. No one’s fault, but that hadn’t

been her role. With her parishioners, she’d had to be strong. With

Evelyn she’d had to be the voice of reason, although she’d failed at that

pretty miserably. She and Allie had come together as two bruised souls,

seeking solace in one another. They both had been a little too hurt to do

more than hold on.

Mica’s arm tightened around her waist. “So enjoy it.”

“I will.” Flynn slid her arm around Mica’s shoulders, lightly

cupping her upper arm. The position was intimate, more intimate than

anything she could remember. The time she and Allie had walked home

holding hands came close, but she hadn’t had any expectations that

night.She felt differently now. Even though she knew nothing was going

to happen between them, a frisson of excitement stirred in her belly, and

she let the thrill spread through her. Mica was incredibly beautiful.

“Something wrong?” Mica asked.

“No, why?”

“Because you’re shaking all over.”

“I’m really bad at this. I’m sorry.”

“At what?”

“Dating, I guess.”

“Oh man, don’t tell me you’re a—”

“No, I’m not.” Flynn laughed. “Everyone’s always asking me that.

Sheltering DuneS

• 109 •

I just…haven’t had all that much practice either. And it’s kind of been

a while.”

“Are we dating?”

“I’d like to.”

Mica gripped the waistband of Flynn’s jeans, as if she thought

Flynn might go somewhere. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“That’s good, because neither do I.”

“Maybe it would be better if we just fucked.”

“I’m sure that would be great,” Flynn said, proceeding by feel as if

she were in a blacked-out room without the slightest glimmer of light.

She didn’t doubt for a second if she said the wrong thing, made the

wrong move, Mica would flee like a skittish animal. She didn’t have a

roadmap. She had no game plan. She had instincts that could barely be

called instincts, based on nothing except the fear she’d seen in Mica’s

eyes and the uncertainty she’d heard in her voice. “I think going to bed

with you would be fabulous. But I’d sort of like to work up to it, so

when we get there, we can do it more than once.”

“You mean in a row?”

Flynn laughed again, feeling as if she’d dodged one landmine only

to face another one. “Well yeah, that too, but I was sort of thinking that

I didn’t want it to be a one-time thing.”

“So what if that’s all I want—one time?”

“Then that would be good to know up front.” Flynn stroked up

Mica’s arm, over the crest of her shoulder, and lightly clasped the back

of her neck, letting her fingers rest against the side of Mica’s throat. She

was so warm. So soft. “It’s your call, Mica. But I have to warn you, I

have a feeling that one time is going to leave me awfully hungry. So I’d

rather we wait and find out if we maybe could do it differently.”

“I don’t know if I want to wait.” Mica threaded her fingers through

Flynn’s and pulled Flynn’s hand away from her neck and down inside

her jean jacket.

Flynn’s palm rested just at the top of Mica’s breast. If she moved

her fingers an inch lower, she’d be caressing the hard point of Mica’s

nipple. The cauldron of excitement in Flynn’s stomach exploded and

shot down her legs, through her chest, and out her fingertips. “Oh man,

I don’t want to wait now either. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Yeah? I like that.” Mica rubbed her hip against Flynn’s as they

walked, dragging Flynn’s hand down and molding it to her breast.

“No fair,” Flynn muttered. She tugged Mica into the shadows

under the awning of a closed clothing store, tilted Mica’s face up with

• 110 •

RAdCLY fFE

her free hand, and kissed her. Mica tasted sweet with a little bit of a

tangy bite. Flynn had seen Mica take a shot of bourbon right before

they’d left the bar, the only drink Mica had had all night. The whisper

of whiskey tingled on Flynn’s tongue. She wanted to keep kissing her,

but if she did she’d have to touch her, and she couldn’t do that here.

“Sorry, I just needed—”

“Me too.” Mica wrapped her arms around Flynn’s shoulders and

pressed against her, tilting her head back and giving Flynn her mouth.

Flynn kissed her again, deeper and more thoroughly. When she

lifted her head she was gasping for breath. “Mica, we can’t—I’m sorry.

I should’ve waited.”

“I think you should shut up and kiss me again.”

Flynn looped her arms around Mica’s waist and swayed with her

in her embrace. “I want to. I really, really want to. But I’d rather be

alone with you, somewhere private. Just in case.”

Mica grabbed Flynn’s hand and tugged her back onto the street.

“Then you better hurry up. You already got me hot. Now you better

deliver.”

Flynn practically had to run to keep up. She was getting dizzy, not

from the pace, but from a lighthearted excitement she’d never known

before. “Me? Me? It’s all you, Mica. You’re amazing.”

“Like I said, you’re crazy.” Mica smiled up at her, a blazing smile

that made her look so young and so free, Flynn’s heart wept.

“No argument. I told you I’d be hungry.”

“It’s okay,” Mica said. “I like you that way.”

They passed through the center of town and into the East End,

where the crowds thinned rapidly. Storefronts gave way to bed-and-

breakfasts. The galleries along the way were all closed and dark. Soon

they were alone. A block from Mica’s, Flynn noticed Mica glancing

over her shoulder for the third time. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Mica said, but she sounded distracted and her expression

was tight.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Mica’s smile was forced, all joy gone from it. “Come on,

we’re almost there.”

They’d almost reached the alley where Flynn had tended to the

woman who’d been assaulted when running footsteps bore down on

them from behind.

Mica cried, “Flynn, run—”

Flynn didn’t have time. A heavy blow landed in the middle of her

Sheltering DuneS

• 111 •

back, throwing her off balance. She stumbled forward into the darkened

alley and crashed against the side of the building. She almost fell, caught

herself with a hand against the building, and swung around, desperately

searching for Mica. A man, judging by the size of the attacker, had

Mica around the waist and was dragging her farther down the alley,

into the dark.

“Let her go! Let her go! Help! Someone call the police!” Flynn

charged, still yelling at the top of her lungs. She took a running leap and

grabbed the guy around the neck, hoping the weight of her body would

knock him down. He was twice her size and she didn’t have a prayer of

taking him one-on-one. He grunted when she hit him, and the three of

them landed in a heap in the sand and stones.

“Flynn,” Mica gasped. “Get out of—”

Mica’s voice ended in a strangled gasp. Flynn grabbed the arm

circling Mica’s neck and yanked. A fist caught her just under the

diaphragm and the air exploded from her chest. She couldn’t suck in a

breath and curled into a ball, gasping and writhing. Her lungs were on

fire. All she could think of was Mica. He had Mica.

Sheltering DuneS

• 113 •

chapter fifteen

Philadelphia

Dell rode the elevator to the third floor of the renovated warehouse

in Old City where JT Sloan lived and, along with her business partner

Jason, ran a cyber-security firm. Since the High Profile Crimes Unit

had merged with Sloan’s civilian operation, the warehouse had become

their headquarters. Dell liked that a lot better than a few desks shoved

together in some corner at One Police Plaza. Here, she felt like they

were in their own world, where Rebecca Frye led the team and they

all contributed, regardless of rank or experience. She was still a rookie

detective, but she felt as if she’d earned her stripes and the Loo treated

her that way. Everyone did.

So it especially sucked when she wasn’t contributing. She hadn’t

accomplished anything all day. She’d hit all her usual places, hunting

up confidential informants, talking to the street girls, even spending

a few hours at the Trocadero after dark, hoping someone had heard

something about where all the action had gone. None of the drag

queens, transvestites, or drag kings who frequented the Troc, and whose

affiliations often crossed ethnic and cultural divides, had any intel.

Ever since the HPC unit had busted the human trafficking ring

smuggling young girls from Eastern Europe into the country to fuel the

porn and prostitution business for the Zamora family, crime had gone

underground. None of the team believed they’d stopped the Hydra-like

organization, even though they’d cut off one of its main heads. Kratos

Zamora, one of the two brothers in charge of running everything from

guns to crack cocaine to girls for hire, had been shanked in his jail

cell before he even went to trial. His brother Gregor was suspected

of having orchestrated Kratos’s assassination. Whatever information

• 114 •

RAdCLY fFE

Kratos might have traded in a plea bargain to reduce his prison time

had died with him. Gregor, so far, was untouchable. For all intents and

purposes, he was an upstanding businessman.

The only rumor Dell had been able to pick up after pounding the

streets for twelve hours was the same one she’d been hearing for the

last six months—vague rumbles that new blood was moving in from

Central America by way of the West Coast and challenging the long-

established crime hierarchy on the East Coast. MS-13 and its offshoots

were organizing, merging disparate cliques into cohesive gangs with

solid leadership and better communication. Unlike traditional crime

families that tended to specialize in one type of crime, La Mara

would take on anything to turn a profit—drugs, guns, prostitution,

pornography—and their currency was violence and intimidation.

The police were scrambling for leads—they had faces, they even

had some names, but what they didn’t have was evidence. The OC

guys were running wiretaps wherever they could, shooting thousands

of surveillance photos, trying to put undercover officers into the gangs,

but infiltrating well-organized groups took years. And every day that

passed, more girls died in the service of masters who only saw them as

commodities to be sold, bartered, bargained for, and discarded when

their use was over. Every day more schoolkids became addicted to the

drugs that flowed freely, every day young men died in gang wars fought

not with fists and chains, but with automatic weapons. The battle was

unending; only the colors of the uniforms and the symbols tattooed on

faces, arms, and torsos changed.

Dell stepped off the elevator and the doors slid silently closed

behind her. She threaded her way through the desks, computer

workstations, monitoring equipment, file cabinets, and other workaday

equipment that filled the huge loft. Ten thirty at night. Most of the lights

were off, but she wasn’t surprised to see one monitor glowing. Sloan

leaned back in her swivel chair, her hands flying over the keyboard as

data streamed across the thirty-inch screen. From across the room she

looked relaxed, sleepy even, but Dell knew better. She’d looked into

Sloan’s face enough times to know her sharp indigo eyes would be

intensely focused and her scarily quick mind assessing, collating, and

discarding facts as rapidly as they appeared.

Dell pulled out a nearby chair and dropped into it. Sloan glanced

over, brushing her hand through her jet black hair. The platinum

wedding band glinted on her left hand. She wore her usual jeans and

tight white T-shirt. She looked nothing like the Justice agent she’d once

Sheltering DuneS

• 115 •

been, or the current civilian liaison to the police department. “What are

you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” Dell stretched out her legs, clasped her hands

behind her head, and stared at the ceiling. “Sandy’s got swing shift

and won’t be home for a while. I’m getting nowhere. I think I must be

missing something. Have you got anything?”

“Not yet. But there’s encouraging chatter.”

“Chatter.” Dell sat up straight. “Meaning?”

“Jason and I have been working on this new algorithm to track

low-level street activity that ordinarily would get written off as too

minor to mean anything—drive-bys, bar fights, domestic disturbances,

drug busts. Minor street activity that usually flies under the radar.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because when you can’t see the big picture, you need to start

looking at the small pieces. Remember, maybe once or twice a year

we’ll take down a huge shipment of cocaine or find a container full of

girls, but those big hits never stop the crime machine from running.

Business as usual is mostly small deals—selling a trunk full of guns,

street soldiers peddling a dime bag here, a vial of crank there, some

sleaze shooting a thirty minute porn flick on dirty sheets with his iPhone

in the back of some warehouse. Your scumbag pedophile uploading a

handful of blurry photos to his friends for a small charge.”

“How does tracking all that help us?”

“I’m pulling data from the central system downtown and mapping

geographical profiles of where crimes are occurring, which gangs are

involved or suspected to be involved, assigning territories, looking at

shifting borders.”

“Does the brass know?”

Sloan grinned, a feral smile that would have made Dell’s blood run

a little colder if she hadn’t known her. Sloan had been betrayed by the

very system she’d fought for, and she had no respect for organized law

enforcement. She followed no one’s lead, other than Frye’s. “They’re

not using it, so I might as well.”

That figured. Dell leaned forward, clasping her hands between her

knees. “What does all that tell you?”

“The old territories are in flux—boundaries are changing.”

Excitement shot through Dell’s chest. “Like we thought, new

regimes.”

“Definitely. By cross-referencing crimes with the new geography

along with what little intel we’re getting from vice, organized crime,

• 116 •

RAdCLY fFE

and homicide, we can start placing people inside the high-activity

zones, which means we can start building profiles of leadership.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Dell glanced across the room to the huge whiteboard

where they posted photographs and other data on the hierarchy of the

various crime families. What had once been a simple genealogy with

one dominant ruling crime faction now looked like an array of stars

circling a sun. The smaller constellations weren’t splinter groups, but

new gangs moving in. La Mara was one, but only a few photos with

names underneath were arranged in that constellation. No clear leader

had been identified.

“So how do we figure who’s who?”

“You tell me.” Sloan’s eyes glinted.

“We need someone inside, but infiltrating a gang takes a long

time.”“Or?”

“We turn someone already inside.”

Sloan nodded. “Exactly. I’ve set up a capture net to monitor any

busts involving anyone from the hot zones, anyone associated with

anyone from those areas, anyone who we might be able to leverage into

giving us intelligence.”

“You know,” Dell said, “if we could get to someone like that, we

could use them to get one of our people inside. Save us a lot of time.”

“You got anybody in mind?” Sloan grinned.

Dell ran her hand over her chest and rested her fingertips just above

her belt line. She hadn’t been undercover for a while. After things got

really hot with the Zamoras, Mitch had to disappear for a while. She

missed him. “Yeah. I know just the guy.”

v

Provincetown

Flynn retched, her stomach empty, nausea rolling through her like

an oily tide. Gravel bit into her cheek, burning the abraded skin. She

blinked dirt from her eyes and rolled onto her belly, trying to get her

hands and knees underneath her. She was so weak she couldn’t push

herself up. If she could just get a breath, just one short breath, she could

get to her feet, she could find Mica, she could tear that bastard apart for

putting his hands on her.

Sheltering DuneS

• 117 •

Screams filled the alley.

Oh God, not Mica. Please, please don’t let her be hurt.

The screaming trailed off into a steady wail, reverberating inside

her head. Her lungs expanded sharply and cool salty air burst down her

throat. She sucked in a lungful, coughed, sucked in more, and managed

to push to her knees.

Siren. Not screaming. A siren.

“Mica?” Her voice was barely a croak.

A bright light hit her in the face and she raised her arm, trying to

shield her tearing eyes.

“Hands in the air,” someone shouted.

Flynn raised her other arm. “Mica,” she gasped. “A guy…took

Mica.”

“Flynn?”

Flynn couldn’t see through the glare, but she recognized Bri’s

voice. Dark shapes raced by at the edges of Flynn’s vision. “Bri,

somebody’s got Mica.” Fear gripped her throat so hard she couldn’t

get the rest of the words out. She shoved upright and staggered, nearly

going down again. “He’s got—”

“Hey, take it easy.” Bri’s arm came around Flynn’s waist. “Let’s

get you over here where you can sit down.”

“No.” Flynn tried to pull away. “Mica.” She scrubbed her eyes

and saw swaths of light cutting through the dark near the beach.

Flashlights.

“Got something,” someone yelled.

Flynn’s heart stilled in her chest and she managed to break Bri’s

grip. “Stay here, Flynn,” Bri ordered, a command edge in her voice.

“More backup’s on the way.”

“I need to find her. If she’s hurt—”

“If she’s hurt, we’ll take care of her.”

Flynn couldn’t just wait. Mica was out there in the dark, maybe

hurt, maybe dying. Life ended so quickly, without warning, without

rhyme or reason or logic. Life’s plan wasn’t meant to be understood.

Flynn knew that, but she’d never been able to accept it. She couldn’t

accept it when Debbie had done the unthinkable, and she couldn’t

accept it now. If she could have found peace with God’s wisdom, she’d

still be wearing her collar. She yanked away from Bri. “I’m not leaving

her out there alone.”

• 118 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Sorry, Flynn, but you need to stay out of the way.” Bri waved

to a sandy-haired officer. “Smith, keep an eye on her until the EMTs

come.”

Two figures stumbled out of the darkness into the flickering blue

light that bathed the alley.

A uniformed officer called, “Need a medic.”

A second, raspy voice cut through the jumble of voices. “Get your

hands off me. Where’s Flynn?”

Mica. The fist of terror crushing Flynn’s chest eased. Mica sounded

royally pissed off. She’d never heard anything sweeter. “Mica? Mica!”

“Flynn!”

Flynn ran toward the sound and Mica broke free, stumbling toward

her. Flynn braced herself and Mica crashed into her arms. Pain raged

through her chest, but she wrapped her arms around Mica and held her

close. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Mica’s hands flew over Flynn, tracing her shoulders, her

chest, her sides. “Did that motherfucker stick you?”

“I’m okay.” Flynn winced when Mica squeezed her right side.

“Like hell you are.” Mica searched the faces of the officers milling

about, her arm around Flynn’s waist. “Yo, you guys! Over here. She’s

the one who needs a medic. I think her ribs are broken.”

Bri stepped out of the crowd. “You’re both going to the clinic.

Once you’ve been seen to, I’ll get your statements.”

Another cruiser screeched to a halt in the street, a door slammed,

and Reese Conlon strode down the alley. She took one look at Flynn

and Mica, then turned to Bri. “Do we have the assailant?”

“Negative,” Bri said. “We were here maybe a minute or two tops

after this all went down. A civilian walking by heard someone yell for

police and hit nine-one-one. We were ten-seven at the Wired Puppy.

Two seconds sooner and we would’ve had him.”

Reese’s cool gaze slid over Mica and Flynn. “Looks like you got

here in time.”

More sirens, the crackle of radios, and the alley quickly filled with

paramedics and more officers. EMTs from the night crew pushed a

gurney toward Flynn and Mica.

“Who’s first?” a short muscular blonde asked, staring at Flynn in

concern. “God, Flynn, are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’ll walk, Chris,” Flynn said.

“Like hell you will.” Mica pointed at the EMT. “Her ribs are

broken. She needs to ride.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 119 •

“You heard the lady, Flynn,” Chris said, taking Flynn’s arm and

leading her to the stretcher. “No use fighting us all.”

Flynn gave in. Her legs were about to give out. When she tried to

lie back, pain shot through her chest and she felt something pop. She

groaned.

“What is it?” Mica said sharply. “Where are you hurting?”

“I think the cartilage is separated,” Flynn said, gritting her teeth.

“It hurts like hell but the ribs aren’t broken.” She raised her hand and

Mica took it. Mica’s knuckles were scraped and bloody. “You sure

you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Mica said her expression closing down. “I’m just great.”

“You’ve got blood on your shirt,” Flynn said gently, her stomach

twisting.

“Yeah.” Mica glanced down as she walked along beside the

stretcher. “It’s not mine, though. Asshole had a switch. Now he

doesn’t.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 121 •

chapter Sixteen

Allie awoke disoriented, unsure if it was morning or night.

The buzz of her cell phone vibrating on the bedside table

reminded her of a swarm of angry wasps, and she resisted the urge

to slap at the air. She searched in the dark for a touchstone and found

it in Ash’s warm body pressed against her back. In an instant she

remembered climaxing with Ash inside her, falling asleep with Ash in

her arms. She knew where she was, who she was, and she groped for

her phone. “Tremont.”

“Hey,” Bri said. “Sorry to get you up, but I thought you’d want to

know someone jumped Flynn and another girl tonight.”

“Is Flynn all right?” Allie pushed up in bed and Ash, waking

instantly, wrapped an arm around her waist. “What happened?”

“Not sure yet. We’re on the way to the clinic right now.”

“The girl…Hispanic, early twenties, about five-seven, black hair,

brown eyes?”

“Sounds right. That the one?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Roger that.”

Allie disconnected and shoved the covers aside. “I have to go in.

Sorry.”

Ash clicked on the lamp on her side of the bed. “What’s going

on?” “That was Bri. Flynn and Mica—the woman I told you about—

were assaulted. That’s all I know.” Allie grabbed a pair of jeans off the

shelf in the closet. Her hands were shaking.

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. Damn it. I knew something was going on. Tell

me this is a coincidence.” Allie yanked a shirt off a hanger. “If I’d

• 122 •

RAdCLY fFE

questioned her the way I wanted to instead of waiting for the damn

computer checks, I might have—”

“Hey.” Ash’s hands came down on Allie’s shoulders, and she

drew Allie back against her chest. Ash kissed her temple. “Facts first,

right?”

Allie took a breath and gave herself a second to let Ash’s calm

strength settle her. She didn’t usually get emotional where work was

concerned. If Ash was hurt, yeah, her world tilted. Flynn was a friend—

okay, a little more than a friend; the exact definition escaped her—but

that still didn’t explain why she felt so guilty. “I feel like this is my

fault, somehow. Like I should know what’s going on and I don’t.”

“Babe,” Ash murmured, turning Allie to face her. “You’re doing

all you can do. Go find out what’s going on and take it from there.

You’re a good cop. Better than you should be for someone your age.”

Allie laughed and slugged Ash softly in the shoulder with her fist.

“Don’t go pulling that older and wiser crap on me.”

Ash grinned. “Well, as soon as you get your temper up, you start

thinking more clearly.”

Allie kissed Ash hard on the mouth. First she’d make sure Flynn

was all right, then she’d find out who Mica really was, and she wouldn’t

stop digging until she had the answers she wanted. “I love you.”

“Same here. Take it easy out there, okay?”

“I always do.”

v

The back doors of the medic unit opened, and Mica looked out on

the same parking lot she’d seen before. The same clinic, only lit tonight

by floods at the corners of the roof and over the door. She was strapped

to the same stretcher, but this time she was awake and Flynn was on a

stretcher across from her. A lot more police cars pulled in around them

than the first time too.

Her chest seized. This was bad. She’d gotten away the last

time before she’d been asked questions she couldn’t answer, but she

wasn’t so sure she could do that again. Too many cops and a lot more

questions. Then there was Flynn. She turned her head, peering around

the blond EMT who was bent over Flynn in the tight space, organizing

the lines and tubes and monitors attached to her. Flynn had a plastic

collar Velcroed around her neck, an IV in her arm, and a bunch of wires

attached to her chest. Her eyes were open, but in the flat yellow light

Sheltering DuneS

• 123 •

of the ceiling dome, she looked dead. Dead people got this look about

them—their eyes stopped shining the second their soul, or whatever it

was inside them, disappeared.

Mica’s heart hammered hard against the inside of her ribs.

“Flynn?” Mica wet her dry lips. “Flynn, are you okay?”

Flynn’s eyelids flickered and she turned her head a tiny bit until

the collar stopped her. “Yeah. You?”

“Good. I’m good.” Mica got her breath back and the pain around

her heart lessened. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? Did you kick me?” Flynn’s voice was hoarse, lower than

it usually was.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and there’s no reason for you to be sorry.” Flynn raised the

hand that wasn’t strapped down and tugged at the collar on her neck.

“Come on, Chris, I don’t need this. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Sorry, Flynn,” Chris said. “You know the drill. It looks like

somebody played soccer with your head. The immobilizer stays on

until Tory says it can come off.”

The male paramedic who’d been driving climbed into the back,

and Mica gripped the stretcher for the trip into the clinic. The medics

took Flynn out first.

“I want to go with her,” Mica called. “Let me out. I don’t need to

be—”Chris knelt by her side. “You’ll be inside in just a second. She’s in

good hands. Nobody’s going to let anything happen to Flynn.”

“Yeah, sure.” Mica knew better. No one was ever safe. Anything

could happen to Flynn, and no one would tell her.

v

Tory heard familiar footsteps coming down the hall outside her

office. She didn’t have to see Reese’s face to know that was her. Reese

might be a cop now, but she walked like a marine. Sharp, steady,

perfectly even steps, as if she always knew her destination and never

wavered. Warm heat flooded through Tory’s chest. The thing she loved

best about Reese was how steady she always was. How sure and strong.

Even when she was hurt and frightened, Reese never wavered.

“Incoming,” Reese said from the doorway.

“I heard the sirens. How bad?”

“Both walking wounded. I’ll leave the rest up to you.” Reese

• 124 •

RAdCLY fFE

leaned against the doorway, her brow faintly furrowed. “You didn’t get

much sleep. How are you feeling?”

Tory smiled. “Is this the first of the million times you plan to ask

me that in the next nine months?”

Reese’s brows drew down further. “Try two million.”

Tory laughed. “I’m fine. If you’ll remember the last time, I—”

“I remember, Tor,” Reese said darkly.

Tory came around her desk and motioned Reese in. “Close the

door.”Reese pulled the door closed, and when she met Tory in the

middle of the room, Tory pressed her palms to Reese’s chest and kissed

her. “I’ve only got a second. I know you remember the last time. You

remember how it ended. Try to remember how exciting it was, how

miraculous, to feel the baby kick the first time, and think about Reggie

and all she’s given us. I’m going to be fine. Promise me you’ll try not

to worry.”

Reese slid her hand around the back of Tory’s neck and tugged her

closer. “I can’t promise that. But I can promise I’ll enjoy every second

of this pregnancy.”

“Well, maybe not the morning sickness part. I won’t ask that of

you.” Tory kissed her again and stepped away. “I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll wait. I’ll need statements from them.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as you can see them.” Tory went into the

hall and met Chris Connelly, one of the local EMTs, outside treatment

room one. Another EMT was assisting a patient in treatment room two.

“Which one first?”

“This one,” Chris said, indicating the room behind her. “The

patient in two is stable—a few lacerations and abrasions, some blunt

force trauma to her neck, but none of it looks too serious. Her vital

signs are stable, no loss of consciousness.” She grimaced. “Flynn, on

the other hand, took a beating. She was disoriented at the scene, but no

documented loss of consciousness. She’s got a significant contusion on

her right temple and localized right rib tenderness. Possibly fractures.”

“All right, I’ll start with her. Can one of you stay with the other

patient just to be sure she remains stable?”

“Yeah, I’ll radio base we’re not available for calls until you give

us the go-ahead.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I can wake Nita up, but by the time she

gets here, I’ll probably have a chance to look at both of them.”

“No problem,” Chris said.

Sheltering DuneS

• 125 •

Tory walked over to Flynn and picked up the clipboard on the

bottom of the bed. She scanned it quickly. Vital signs were all normal,

although her pulse was rapid and her blood pressure high. An area over

her right temple and cheekbone was swollen and discolored. She leaned

down and squinted at the area. Not a fist. A shoe, most likely. Anger

simmered but she pushed the distracting fury aside and rested her hand

on Flynn’s wrist. Her pulse was bounding. Stress, fear, pain. “How are

you feeling?”

“Not bad.” Flynn’s voice was reedy and thin.

“Show me where your chest hurts,” Tory said as she fit her

stethoscope to her ears. Flynn covered an area on her lower right

side, and Tory avoided the spot as she moved her stethoscope over

Flynn’s lung fields. Breath sounds were present, but depressed. Flynn

obviously wasn’t taking a deep breath. She set her stethoscope aside

and pushed Flynn’s shirt up. A five- by eight-inch area over her right

lower rib cage was mottled purple. She gently palpated the area, and

Flynn stiffened, trying unsuccessfully to hide a wince. Tory didn’t feel

any crepitus from air in the tissue or grating from shattered bone ends

grinding together, but the degree of Flynn’s pain suggested a fracture.

“We’ll need to X-ray you.”

“Have you seen Mica yet?”

“The other patient?”

“Yes.”

“Not yet. Mica. Wait a minute. The girl who was hit while riding

her bicycle?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Tory made a few notes on the clipboard. Red flags were waving

from every corner. “That’s a pretty unlucky coincidence.”

“The driver of the van was from up-Cape,” Flynn said slowly.

“This guy wasn’t from around here. Not related, I don’t think.”

“Well, you don’t need to figure it out for me. Reese will be talking

to you in a little while. What we need to do now is get you X-rayed.”

“Can I talk to Mica first?”

“If it will keep her from running out again, yes. But she’ll have

to come to you. I don’t want you moving around until I’ve seen your

X-rays.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

“Let me finish looking at you, and then I’ll get her. Where else do

you hurt?”

Flynn closed her eyes. “I think that’s about it.”

• 126 •

RAdCLY fFE

“That’s enough.”

Flynn nodded, saving her breath. Every inhalation was like

swallowing fire, and her stomach, even though it was empty, was still

in revolt. She did not want to vomit. All she wanted was to see Mica,

but she knew that wasn’t going to happen unless she cooperated. The

sooner she got her X-rays, the sooner she’d be able to see her. She

needed to make sure Mica was all right, and she needed to make sure

she didn’t disappear.

The trip to and from X-ray was an exercise in torture—every

movement incited another surge of stabbing pain. Tory gave her some

Percocet, and after a few minutes that started to help. Flynn concentrated

on keeping her breathing even and her heart rate quiet. Prayer was like

meditation for her, and after so many years, she could easily slip into

that self-contained zone where mind and body existed on separate

planes. The meditation helped dull the burning pain, but knowing she’d

see Mica after the procedure helped even more.

Chris, who had volunteered to transport her to the X-ray bay,

wheeled her back to the treatment room just as Tory came out of the

room opposite.

“Mica?” Flynn asked.

“She’ll be over in a minute. I’m going to go read your films.” Tory

nodded to Chris. “Thanks. I think you and Vince can take off.”

“Sure thing, Doc.” Chris leaned over the stretcher to Flynn. “You

take it easy, you hear? I don’t want to see your face at work for a few

days.”“I’ll call the captain in the morning,” Flynn said.

“I’ll take care of it.” Chris squeezed Flynn’s shoulder. “Just get

some rest.”

“Hey,” Mica said, sidling up to the stretcher. A red, angry swath of

bruises encircled her neck. Fingerprints.

Flynn pictured the shadowy figure clamping an arm across Mica’s

throat and dragging her away. She reached for Mica’s hand and when

Mica immediately took hers, Flynn’s pounding pulse settled. “Did he

hurt you?”

“Nah,” Mica said with a shrug. “He was too busy whaling on

you.”Flynn smiled. “I’m glad I could offer a diversion.”

Mica stroked Flynn’s arm, her dark eyes wide and worried. “He

really did a number on you. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey. Not your fault.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 127 •

Mica bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to say something, but

she remained quiet.

“When we get out of here,” Flynn said, “will you tell me what’s

going on?”

Mica flicked her gaze to the door as if worried someone might

overhear. “You don’t want to know. There’s nothing you can do and—

well, you see what kind of trouble you can get into just being around

me.” Flynn gripped her fingers more firmly, sensing her wanting to

withdraw. “You weren’t the one making the trouble. Don’t run out on

me.” “You ask a lot.”

“Do I? Do you mind?”

“I don’t know.” Mica frowned. “I just don’t want you getting hurt

anymore.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that.”

“Because you don’t seem to have much sense.”

Flynn smiled and tried not to laugh. She couldn’t breathe enough

to laugh. “You know, you really make me feel special.”

Mica grinned. “Good.” She blushed. “’Cause, you know, you

are.” “Mica,” Flynn said seriously, “the police will want to talk to us.

Can you do that?”

“Sure,” Mica said quickly. “Why not.”

Flynn recognized the bravado for what it was, an attempt to cover

up her uncertainty. “I know these people. You can trust them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“I wish…”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Look, when this is over, I want you to come home with me.”

“Um, I think your timing needs a little work.”

“Not that way,” Flynn said. “I don’t think you ought to be alone.

And besides, I’m not going to be very functional and I could use the

company.”

Mica narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re playing me now.”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Mica ran her fingers through Flynn’s hair. “Maybe I feel

a little bit sorry for you.”

• 128 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Thanks.” Flynn leaned her cheek against Mica’s palm, relieved

that Mica had agreed to stay with her. Whoever the guy was, he was

still out there, and Mica was vulnerable. She wasn’t going to let anyone

hurt her.

Allie strode through the door. “Hey, Flynn. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Flynn tugged Mica a little closer, afraid she would

bolt. “A few bumps and bruises is all.”

“Uh-huh.” Allie didn’t look like she believed her, her cool gaze

assessing Mica. “Dr. King said it would be okay if we got your statements

now. I’ll take you,” she said to Mica, “first. Come with me.”

Mica glanced at Flynn, and Flynn nodded. “I’ll be here when

you’re done.”

Wordlessly, Mica followed Allie from the room. Flynn fought

down a wave of fear that she wouldn’t see Mica again. She tried telling

herself she was overreacting, but she knew better. Sometimes people

walked out the door and never came back.

Sheltering DuneS

• 129 •

chapter Seventeen

Tory sat at her desk finishing her notes. She looked up when

Reese appeared in the doorway, talking on her phone.

“Hold on a second,” Reese said to whoever she had on the line and

looked at Tory. “Status report?”

“I’ll fill you in when you’re done.” Tory gathered the files and

moved over to the sofa in the small sitting area across from her desk. A

minute later, Reese joined her.

“Problem?” Reese asked.

“No. They’re both stable and capable of speaking with you.”

“Allie said you gave her the green light. She’s going to talk to the

girl first. I was on my way to talk to Flynn.” Reese crossed her ankle

over her knee and leaned back, stretching out one arm along the back

of the sofa until her fingertips touched Tory’s shoulder. “Something’s

bothering you.”

Tory grasped Reese’s hand and threaded her fingers through

Reese’s. “Are you thinking one of them might have been targeted?”

“It’s certainly possible. Going by the statistics, though, a random

assault—possible robbery, even gay bashing—would be more likely.”

Tory stroked Reese’s palm, thinking about Mica. The girl hadn’t

run away this time, but everything about her screamed that she

wanted to. She rarely made eye contact, her answers were short and

uninformative, and her manner belligerent—at least on the surface. She

had an edge of anger, all right, but her attitude seemed fueled more

by fear than anything else, and that bothered Tory. Her instinct was

always to heal, and while she was able to tend to Mica’s body, she

hadn’t been able to help her escape whatever monster was chasing her.

“My ethical responsibilities are getting a little tangled here. You know,

patient confidentiality.”

• 130 •

RAdCLY fFE

“This is an official police investigation,” Reese said. “We need

to know what’s going on, especially if one of them is a target. This

could’ve been a homicide investigation. They were lucky.”

“I know that. But I’m also their doctor, and our conversations are

confidential.”

“True.” Reese’s tone was casual. She wasn’t pushing, but she

wouldn’t. Not just because she was Tory’s partner, but because Reese

believed in the fundamental merit of rules and regulations. She would

entrust her life to the hierarchy that created order and safety out of chaos.

“You’ll have to decide how much is confidential and what is essential

for us to know in order to see that this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry,” Tory said. “I wish I did have something substantial to

point you toward, but I don’t. I’m just really worried that the next time

one of them shows up here, they’re going to be a lot more seriously

injured.”

“I intend to see that doesn’t happen,” Reese said. “I appreciate

your impressions. Tell me what you can, I’ll ask what more I need

to know, and you answer whatever is appropriate. You’ve got good

judgment. I trust you.”

“Thank you.” Tory collected her charts and sat back down. “I

can give you a physical update. They were both viciously assaulted,

although Flynn was the more seriously injured.” She ran through her

physical findings for each patient. “On the basis of this, if one of them

is a target, I think it’s Mica.”

“Why, if Flynn took the brunt of the beating?”

“From what I’ve put together from the two of them, it sounded

as if the assailant was focused on Mica, and Flynn got in the way. She

was…”

“Collateral damage.” Reese’s expression never changed, but she

had to be thinking about the troops she had lost.

“I hate that term,” Tory said.

“So do I. What you’ve told me is very helpful. What else?”

“Mica’s ID says she’s from New York City, but when I mentioned

a few places, she didn’t seem to be very familiar with any of them.

Doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s not being truthful, but I suspect

both her name and her address are false.”

“That jibes with what we’ve found out so far.” Reese regarded

Tory steadily. “Any distinguishing marks or characteristics?”

Tory hesitated. “She has scars indicative of knife wounds—one on

her lower abdomen, several on her arms, one on her back. I can’t really

Sheltering DuneS

• 131 •

tell now how serious they might have been, but she’s no stranger to

violence. She has a number of tattoos, most of which are actually very

well done. The large one on her back says…” She looked at her notes.

“La Mara. Someone’s name, I imagine. The others—”

“Wait a minute,” Reese cut in. “Two words…La Mara?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a number?”

“Huh.” Tory pictured the design in her mind. “I didn’t see it

initially, but yes, the scroll after the words that I thought was decorative

is actually a fairly complex and quite beautiful thirteen.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the information.” Reese stood up, her face

settling into the stark lines Tory recognized as ultimate focus. Reese

was now on a mission.

“This is serious, isn’t it,” Tory said, rising with her.

“It could be.” Reese brushed the backs of her fingers over Tory’s

cheek. “Wait here until I can have someone take you home. I’m going

to go into the office in a few minutes and make a few calls.”

“All right. I’ve got plenty to do until you have an officer who’s

free.” Tory slid her arms around Reese’s waist and kissed her quickly.

“Can you make it home for breakfast? Pick up the baby on the way? We

might as well let her sleep the rest of the night with Kate and Jean.”

“I’ll be there.” Reese looked at her watch and frowned. “Why don’t

you catch some sleep while you’re waiting for a ride? The paperwork

can keep.”

Tory smiled. “Spoken like a true cop who I happen to know hates

paperwork. If I get tired, I’ll nap. Be careful.”

“I will.” Reese kissed her. “I love you.”

Tory waited until the sound of Reese’s footsteps ended with the

opening and closing of one of the treatment room doors. She closed her

own door and stretched out on the sofa with Mica’s chart balanced on

her knees. As she completed her notes, she thought of the tattoo that

had meant something to Reese and that Reese had very carefully not

explained.

v

Flynn was drifting, struggling to stay awake as the Percocet kicked

in, when someone knocked on the treatment room door and walked in.

Hoping Mica had returned, she shifted painfully onto her right side and

opened her eyes. “Hi, Reese.”

• 132 •

RAdCLY fFE

Reese pulled over a stool and sat down next to the treatment table,

putting them on the same level. “Doing okay?”

“Not too bad,” Flynn said. “Any word on the guy?”

“I was just talking to Bri. She and a couple of the other officers

have been canvassing the neighbors and patrolling the general area.

Nothing so far.”

“He either took off in a car or he’s inside somewhere.”

“More than likely, but we’ll keep looking. Can you give me a

description?”

Flashes of those few minutes in the alley ran through Flynn’s

mind. Mica’s shout for her to run, the torrent of blows, the helpless

frustration. A wellspring of fury clouded her already cloudy mind.

“Give me a second.”

“I’m sorry to have to do this now,” Reese said.

“No. It’s okay. It just happened really fast.”

“Take it one thing at a time. Let’s start with what was going on

before you reached that alley. Where were you?”

“Walking east along Commercial. On our way to Mica’s.” Flynn

smiled at the memory of them rushing down the street, arms around

each other, and why they were in such a hurry. She’d been happy and

lighthearted, excited to be with Mica, to be connected to her. She’d

been thinking about being even closer. “We were half a block from

Mica’s when it happened.”

“Do you remember where he came from? What direction?”

Flynn tensed, reliving the shock of the first blow in the middle of

her back. “Someone hit me from behind, pushed me down the alley,

away from Mica.”

“So he came up behind you? Any indication he might have been

following you?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I guess he could’ve been standing in the

doorway of one of the buildings when we passed. I remember—” She

remembered Mica looking over her shoulder, more than once. As if she

was looking for something or some one behind them.

“What?” Reese asked.

“Nothing.”

“Mica didn’t give any indication she was nervous or frightened?”

Flynn’s head began to pound. A cascade of flashing lights shot

through her eyes, and a thousand needles pierced her brain. “I’m sorry.

I’m not sure. I’m a little fuzzy right now.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 133 •

“I understand,” Reese said patiently. “Just give me your

impressions. I’ll sort things out from there.”

“I think Mica looked back a couple times. I can’t be sure.”

“Okay. She didn’t say anything? Didn’t warn you in any way?”

“No. We were kind of wrapped up in each other. At least I was.

Not paying much attention to anything else.”

“The two of you, you’re involved?”

“I’m not sure.” Flynn flushed. “It was a date. A casual one.”

“Uh-huh, okay. So someone came up behind you, shoved you into

the alley. Then what?”

Flynn gripped the side of the stretcher, curling her fingers around

the cool steel. Surprise, pain, fear, and anger flooded through her in

succession. Mica’s sharp cry of pain, the sight of the attacker’s arm

wrapped around Mica’s throat, lifting her off the ground, pulling her

away. Pulling her into the dark. “He was medium height, heavyset.

Maybe three or four inches taller than Mica. There wasn’t much light.

No beard, close-cut hair. Big arms. No jacket.”

“White? Black?”

“Not black. I remember his forearm was bare. There was a mark—

some kind of tattoo on his forearm—right forearm.”

“Do you remember what it was?”

“No. I only saw it for a second, but it was big, maybe five inches

high.”“Did you hear his voice?”

“Yes. He had an accent. Spanish, I think.” Flynn’s breathing was

ragged and she was starting to get light-headed. She settled herself,

fighting off the disorienting effect of the drugs and the icy fear of

memory. “I’m sorry I don’t have more for you.”

“That’s all right, you did really well.” Reese leaned forward and

rested one hand on the stretcher next to Flynn’s. She didn’t touch her,

but her presence filled the space. “What can you tell me about Mica?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Flynn said almost automatically.

Everything always came back to Mica and unanswered questions. And

always, her pressing need to protect Mica from everyone, even the

people she trusted.

“The usual things people talk about when they first meet—where

she’s from, what she’s doing here. Is she married, seeing anyone,

hooked up with friends in the area?”

“Shouldn’t she be telling you this?”

• 134 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Yes, but I’m not sure she will.” Reese held Flynn’s gaze. “You

know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you anything.”

“I can understand that you don’t want to. That keeping her

confidence is important to you. But one of you could have been killed

back there. If there’s any chance it’s going to happen again, I need to

know what’s going on.”

“I don’t know the answer to your questions,” Flynn said.

“If you did, would you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Flynn struggled to explain what she couldn’t even

explain to herself. “You’ll have to find out from her what you need to

know.”

“All right. Try to get some sleep.” Reese rose. “When we’re done

talking to Mica, I’ll have Allie give you both a ride home.”

“Thanks.”

Reese paused on the way to the door. “By the way. Is this her

priest protecting her or her girlfriend?”

“I’m not her confessor.” Flynn took a long breath. “I don’t think

I’m her girlfriend either, but I’d like to be.”

“Word of advice, then—love sometimes makes it hard to see

the whole picture, especially when all you see is her. You can get into

trouble that way.”

“Yeah,” Flynn said. “I know.”

v

“Your ID says your name is Mica Butler.” Allie motioned to a chair

in the small conference room down the hall from the treatment rooms.

Mica glanced at the chair and then the door they’d come through, and

Allie braced herself to grab her if she tried to run. She looked like she

might. “Do you want a soda or something?”

“No,” Mica said.

“You might as well sit down. This is going to take a few minutes.”

Allie pulled out a chair at the small round wooden table and set her hat

on the top. She leaned back and waited. It was two a.m. She had all

night.Mica yanked out a chair across from Allie’s and flopped into it.

“You want to tell me what happened tonight?” Allie asked.

“We got jumped. He took off when we didn’t lay down for it.”

“You know him?”

Sheltering DuneS

• 135 •

“Nope.”

“Know why he went for you?”

“Nope,” Mica said.

Allie took out her notebook. “Description?”

“It was dark.”

“He almost killed Flynn,” Allie said conversationally and looked

up from her notes. Mica’s bored expression faltered. Her eyes sparked

and her lips thinned. Bingo.

“I didn’t see him all that well.”

“And you don’t know him,” Allie repeated. Come on, give me

something.

“I already said no.”

“Butler.” Allie changed tacks, hoping to catch Mica off guard.

“Something tells me that’s not your real last name.”

“I already told you, I don’t know who the guy is. I don’t have

anything else to say.”

“Where are you from?”

“New York City.”

“Where did you go to school?”

Mica crossed her arms. “A bunch of places. I quit before I

graduated. Can’t remember them all.”

“And you came all the way here to what, work for minimum wage

in a bar?” Allie got up, pushed change into the coffee machine, and

waited while steaming liquid the color of muddy water filled a paper

cup. She added Splenda from a shelf next to the vending machine and

sat back down. She blew on the top, sipped, and wondered why coffee

machines couldn’t make decent coffee. Ever. “No bars in New York

City?”“Is there some law against me working in a bar?”

“Nope.” Allie placed the coffee cup down in front of her. “No law

against it at all. There is a law against lying to me, though, and I’m

pretty sure you’re lying.”

Mica stared at some point past Allie’s shoulder. The message was

clear. She wasn’t talking and she knew she didn’t have to.

“Whoever this guy was, he’s still around. He’ll probably be

back.”Mica’s jaw tightened. She was beautiful, even pissed off and

wanting a fight.

“Did you cut him?” Allie asked.

“Yeah, I cut him.”

• 136 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Stuck him or cut him?”

Mica glanced at Allie with amused respect. “Stuck him, but not

as hard as I wished I had. He blocked most of it, caught a shoulder, I

think.”

“Left shoulder? Right shoulder?”

“Left.”

“How’d you get the knife away from him?”

“Asshole held it to my throat, put it right up where I could get

it.” “Pretty risky. He could have gotten you first.”

Mica shrugged. “He wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“What was he trying to do?” Mica’s face went blank, and Allie

took that as a sign she was headed in the right direction. “He wasn’t

interested in raping you. Men who want to rape women don’t jump

couples. So if he didn’t want to kill you, what does that leave us?”

“You’re the cop.”

Allie smiled. “That I am. I’m glad you’ve got that in focus.”

“Look, I don’t know the dude. It was dark, and he was behind me.

Couldn’t see him. I got nothing that will help you.”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” Allie said. “You know what

he wants, don’t you?”

“Got no idea.”

“Yet you know he wasn’t trying to kill you. Makes me think he

wants you. Why would he want you?”

“No idea.”

“Let’s say I believe you,” Allie said, although she let disbelief seep

into her tone. “Let’s say you’re right. This guy comes out of nowhere

and goes after you for no good reason. You were lucky to get away. You

got a piece of him. Good for you.”

Mica narrowed her eyes, looking for the trap.

“Too bad Flynn got in the middle. Maybe next time she won’t be

so lucky. Maybe he won’t just beat her, maybe next time he’ll cut her

throat quickly.”

“Maybe there won’t be a next time,” Mica said sharply.

She looked like she wanted to dive over the table and get her hands

on Allie’s throat. Good.

“You better hope there isn’t,” Allie said. “Because if he comes

after you again and Flynn ends up getting hurt, I’m not letting you walk

away.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 137 •

Mica pushed her chair up and stood. “You got nothing. Except

maybe the hots for Flynn.”

Mica walked out the door and Allie let her go. Mica was partially

right. She had nothing, only the same suspicions she’d started with.

But she had one thing she hadn’t had before—certainty that this wasn’t

the end of trouble for Mica. And now that Flynn was mixed up in it,

she wasn’t backing off until she found out exactly what was going on.

As to having the hots for Flynn, Mica was wrong. But then, Mica was

jealous.

Allie smiled. She could use that.

Sheltering DuneS

• 139 •

chapter eighteen

Allie pulled open the front door of the cruiser parked in front

of the clinic. “You’ll probably be more comfortable sitting in

the front, Flynn.”

Flynn took in the backseat—no inside handles, steel mesh and

impenetrable plastic between the rear compartment and the front—a

cramped prison cell on wheels. Her ribs ached, but the Percocet had

helped dull the stabbing pain that accompanied every breath. She could

move a little more easily now too. No matter how much it hurt to

squeeze into that tight space, she wasn’t going to let Mica ride in there

alone. “Thanks. I’ll be fine in the back.”

Allie frowned at her across the roof of the cruiser. The security

lights flooded a crescent of the parking lot with harsh light, giving

Allie’s sensuous features a dangerous edge. Allie glanced from Flynn

to Mica, shook her head, and reached inside the cruiser to pop the rear

locks. Flynn pulled the door open with her left hand and, seeing Mica

hesitate, got in first. Mica finally inched in beside her and pulled the

door closed.

When Allie started the cruiser, the locks snapped down. Allie’s

silhouette was visible through the impregnable barrier, but they were

effectively isolated.

Flynn had never been conscious of being a prisoner before, and

she quickly discovered she didn’t like it. The space was claustrophobic,

and just knowing that she couldn’t get out if she wanted to brought acid

roiling in her stomach. Beside her, Mica sat staring straight ahead, her

hands clenched on her thighs. Flynn slid toward her, wincing as the

movement tugged at her damaged ribs.

“You should have sat in the front,” Mica muttered.

• 140 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Yeah, probably.” Flynn rested her fingertips on Mica’s thigh.

Mica’s slender muscles were rigid. “This is pretty awful back here.”

Mica snorted, her mouth lifting into a smile Flynn guessed held

no humor.

“At least nobody’s puked back here. Tonight anyhow,” Mica

said. “Geez, I hope not.”

“You can tell her to take me to my place.”

“Is that what you want?”

Slowly, Mica turned on the seat until she faced Flynn, their

bodies very close. Her breath gave off the sweet tinge of alcohol and

peppermint.

“You’re pretty busted up. I don’t think you’d be much good

tonight.”

“Maybe so.” Flynn kept her fingers on Mica’s thigh and stroked

slowly up and down. “Got any more mints?”

Mica sighed, fished a small plastic container out of her front

pocket, and shook two into Flynn’s hand.

Flynn popped them into her mouth and chewed. “I still want you

to come home with me.”

“Why?”

“It’s been an exceptionally crappy night, but it started out really

well. Walking home with you was one of the best evenings I’ve ever

had. I don’t want that part to end.”

After shooting a quick glance at the front seat, Mica cupped

Flynn’s jaw and kissed her. “Didn’t anybody ever teach you not to say

exactly what’s on your mind?”

Flynn slid both hands to Mica’s waist and leaned in to her until

her ribs protested and she had to stop. She rested her forehead against

Mica’s. “I’ve sort of been trained to tell the truth, you know? Tough

habit to break.”

Mica snorted. “Not every priest tells the truth.”

“Not everyone does. You’re right.”

“Sometimes telling the truth can get you hurt.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“We’re not talking about me.”

“Not right now.”

Mica wrapped her fingers around Flynn’s upper arms and caressed

her. “You’re pretty scary the way you never give up.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 141 •

“I didn’t think you scared easily.”

“Not usually. If I could figure you out better, I’d be good.”

“Nothing to figure out,” Flynn said mildly. “I like you. I like

everything about you. Plus I think you’re beautiful, and I love the way

you kiss. Maybe you could do that again.”

Mica pressed her palm gently against Flynn’s side and Flynn

winced. “Like I said. You’re not going to be up to doing much

tonight.”

“More than you think.”

Mica kissed her again, easing her tongue between Flynn’s lips,

teasing her with quick darting caresses and the slow slide of her full

warm lips. She kept going, probing and stroking and playing until Flynn

moaned. Mica eased back and grinned. “Guess we’ll find out.”

Flynn nodded, the heavy pall of pain and frustration lifting from

her shoulders. “I guess we will.”

When Flynn settled back, she caught a reflection of Allie’s eyes

in the rearview mirror, watching them. Intent, bright, unhappy. Mica

shifted closer and Flynn stroked her hair. “Tired?”

Mica nodded silently, rested her head on Flynn’s shoulder, and

wrapped one arm gently around her waist.

“We’ll figure this out in the morning,” Flynn said.

“Sure,” Mica whispered, not sounding very convincing.

From the front seat, Allie’s muffled voice announced, “We’re

here, Flynn.”

“Thanks,” Flynn said as the locks popped up. She tried not to rush

to get the door open.

The dome light came on, and Allie shifted around to look back at

them. “Where do you need to go, Mica?”

Mica shot a glance at Flynn. Flynn pushed the door open, eased

one leg out, and gripped Mica’s hand. “She’s not going anywhere. She’s

staying with me.”

“Do you think that’s smart?” Allie asked. “Neither of you is in

very good shape, and if you run into any kind of trouble—”

“We’re fine,” Flynn said gently. “But thanks.”

“Yeah, right,” Allie muttered as Flynn closed the door.

The cruiser slowly pulled away, and Flynn slid her arm around

Mica’s waist. “Ready?”

Mica regarded her steadily. “Are you?”

“This is the part where you’ll have to trust me.” Flynn held her

• 142 •

RAdCLY fFE

breath. She was talking about a lot more than the two of them maybe

sleeping together, and Mica knew it too. This was where Mica would

walk away, or take a chance. Flynn’s heart thudded in her chest, and

with every passing second a cold hard stone grew in the pit of her

stomach. She couldn’t talk her way into Mica’s life. She couldn’t talk

away Mica’s problems. But she could listen to them. And if Mica gave

her a chance, she could prove she was worth the risk by staying. No

matter what Mica told her.

“I don’t want the night to end either.” Mica took Flynn’s hand.

v

Allie slowly pulled away, watching Flynn and Mica make their

way up the path to Flynn’s condo. Four a.m. She’d only had a few

hours’ sleep after Ash had gotten home, and not much the night before,

but she was wired. She set her radio to Bri’s channel and tried her.

“Adam Charlie one, you copy?”

“Adam Charlie one,” Bri came back immediately.

“Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“You coming in?”

“Going to make another swing around.”

“Roger that. Thanks.” Allie switched off and drove back to the

sheriff’s department where she’d picked up her cruiser earlier. Reese’s

SUV was in the lot. Allie parked and went inside. The place was empty

except for a civilian dispatcher manning the phones. A light shone under

Reese’s office and the door was ajar, so she knocked.

“Come on in,” Reese said.

Allie pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Sorry to bother

you, I saw your light.”

“No problem.” Reese gestured to the chair. “Have a seat.”

Allie pulled the straight-backed chair closer to Reese’s desk, sat,

and leaned her forearms on the edge of the desk. “I didn’t get anything

from Mica.”

“What were your impressions?”

Allie shrugged. “She’s been questioned before. Very cool. I think

she knows something but she’s not talking, either because she doesn’t

trust us or she’s involved in something she doesn’t want us to know

about.”

“What do you know about La Mara?” Reese asked.

Sheltering DuneS

• 143 •

Allie frowned. “It’s a West Coast gang. I think I saw a documentary

on it once.”

“It started out as a group whose main purpose was to protect

Salvadorans who were being preyed upon by other factions on the West

Coast, but it evolved into a gang that took advantage of the very people

it was supposed to be protecting,” Reese said. “In the late nineties

their reach extended through most of California and into some of the

surrounding states. In the last few years, offshoots have sprung up all

over the East Coast. We’ve started to see a lot of activity in Boston as

well as New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Richmond.”

“We don’t see very much gang activity here, though,” Allie

said. “Most of the population is seasonal. And there’s no local gang

culture.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean we won’t. This is still a

popular place for yachts to harbor, and wherever you have high traffic

volume, you have the possibility of drugs and weapons. Easy to come

into port, pick up or drop off a shipment that goes out right away by land

or water, and then travel on to the next destination. No one’s required to

register their vessel beyond the most basic information for an overnight

berth in the harbor.”

“Still, that requires a pretty high level of organization.”

Reese nodded. “Ten years ago La Mara wouldn’t have been able to

pull it off. But times have changed. They’re strong, they’re organized,

and they’re violent.”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“I’m pretty sure Mica has gang ties. If not now, she has in the

past.”Cold dread seeped into Allie’s stomach. “I read somewhere that

no one gets out once they’re in.”

“That’s true. If she’s running, she’s in danger.”

“And so is anyone with her.” Allie wanted to jump up, tear back

to Flynn’s, and kick Mica’s ass around the block for putting Flynn in

danger. “You think that’s what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t get any information

until the morning. I’ve put a few calls in to my contacts in the FBI

for background information. They’ll get the message first thing in the

morning, and we might turn something up. I take it your searches didn’t

come up with anything?”

“Not yet, but I widened the geographic area and expanded the

search parameters earlier today. I was about to fill out my interview

• 144 •

RAdCLY fFE

report and run down the computer checks again. Nothing popped earlier

tonight.”

“All right. We still don’t have anything concrete, but the pieces

I’m starting to see don’t look promising.”

“What about Flynn?”

Reese leaned back in her chair and rested her arms on the

armrests, studying Allie. She knew about Allie and Flynn and knew

their involvement was over now, but that didn’t mean Allie wasn’t still

invested. Allie didn’t walk away from anything—especially not people

she cared about. She was passionate, and passion could be a good thing

in a cop. Passion fueled drive, kept a cop looking and searching when

it seemed there would never be any answers. But passion sometimes

clouded good judgment. “I got the impression Flynn was personally

involved. But Flynn is smart. And remember, Mica hasn’t done anything

illegal.”

“That we know of, yet,” Allie said.

“That’s true. But at this point, she’s a victim, and that’s how we

need to go about running down our leads. As to Flynn, I think you have

to trust her judgment.”

Allie pushed the chair back and rose. “Yes ma’am. I’ll get on those

computer checks.” She turned and started for the door.

“Tremont,” Reese said quietly.

Allie stiffened. “Yes, Sheriff?”

“If you’re going to take the lead on this case, you’re going to need

to have a clear head.”

Allie jerked around. “The lead?”

“You’re the one who picked up on something being wrong.

You’ve already started the investigation. Stay with it.” Reese reached

for a stack of papers. “Keep me in the loop at all times. And keep your

personal feelings under wraps.”

“I’ll do that.”

Reese watched her go, wondering if she’d be able to keep her

feelings for Flynn from interfering with her judgment. She needed to

learn how, and there was no better time than now.

v

Flynn opened the door and flicked the switch just inside. A table

lamp came on across the room, next to the faded brown sofa. Allie had

been the last woman she’d had in her apartment, and they’d ended up

Sheltering DuneS

• 145 •

tangled around each other on that sofa. After Mica followed her inside,

she closed the door.

“Are you hungry? Need anything to drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Come on.” Flynn took Mica’s hand and led her through the living

room, past the kitchen alcove, and down the short hall to her bedroom.

She flipped another switch and a small lamp next to her bed glowed a

warm yellow. “The bathroom is through that door over there. If you

check the medicine cabinet, you’ll find a couple of new toothbrushes

and toothpaste. Do you need a T-shirt or anything?”

Mica glanced down at her dirt-smeared T-shirt and jeans. “Yeah,

guess I better.”

“I’ll get you something. Go ahead and use the bathroom first.”

After Mica disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door,

Flynn slowly and laboriously undressed. She pulled on an oversized,

faded Boston Bruins T-shirt and didn’t bother with anything else. By

the time she’d accomplished what usually took her ten seconds, Mica

was back, still in her soiled clothes. Flynn held out a soft white V-neck

T-shirt. “I think this will fit you well enough.”

“Thanks.”

Flynn took her turn in the bathroom, and after washing up and

brushing her teeth, she turned out the bathroom light and crossed to

the bed. Mica was already under the covers, the sheet drawn across

her chest. Her arms rested on top of the pale blue comforter. Her skin

was an even golden brown except for the dark patches of the ink on her

right upper arm and left inner forearm. A heart with a knife through it.

A crescent moon wreathed in blood-red tears. Mica’s tattoos were like

her, mysterious and beautiful and kissed with sadness. Flynn pulled

back the covers and slid underneath. Six inches separated her from

Mica in the double bed. When she turned to shut off the bedside lamp,

pain shot through her right side, and she winced.

“I’ll get it.” Mica leaned up on her elbow and reached over Flynn.

Her breasts brushed Flynn’s and Flynn’s nipples hardened. Mica

instantly stilled.

Flynn clasped Mica’s waist, her fingers curving around Mica’s

narrow middle, her thumbs pressed into her firm stomach muscles.

Mica looked down at her, her eyes wide dark pools, her full mouth

swollen and moist.

“You’ll want to be careful, now,” Mica warned.

“Why’s that?” Flynn’s throat was tight with wanting. Mica shifted

• 146 •

RAdCLY fFE

closer, her naked thighs sliding over Flynn’s. Flynn sucked in a breath

when Mica’s soft, smooth skin pressed against her center. She was wet

and Mica had to feel it.

“Because you’re hurt and I’m horny,” Mica murmured.

Flynn grinned. “If I don’t move very much, I don’t hurt.”

“Then you better not move.” Mica carefully shifted, bracing

herself above Flynn on her bent arms. Her pelvis settled into Flynn’s,

heat against heat.

Flynn watched Mica’s face come closer and closer. She tilted her

head. “I really want you to kiss me.”

“You know if we do, there might be no going back.”

Flynn tightened her arm around Mica’s hips and held her more

firmly. Mica remained poised above her, waiting. Waiting for her to

decide. Flynn stroked her other hand up the center of Mica’s back and

buried her fingers in Mica’s hair. Mica was absolutely still, her eyes

unblinking.

Flynn pulled Mica’s head down and kissed her.

Sheltering DuneS

• 147 •

chapter nineteen

Philadelphia

Sloan punched in a number on speed dial with one hand and

alternated scrolling between the three monitors in front of her and

tapping keys with the other hand. She hummed a passable version

of Springsteen’s “Born to Run.” Her blood pumped furiously—the

thrill of the hunt infusing her with excitement nothing except being

with Michael could ever match. Detective Lieutenant Rebecca Frye

answered on the second ring.

“Frye.”

“Hey,” Sloan said, “got something you might be interested in.”

“At a quarter after four in the morning?”

Sloan glanced at the time readout in the lower corner of the closest

monitor. The last time she’d looked had been when Dell had left a little

after midnight. “Sorry. I was chasing some data…”

“Right. Is Michael out of town again?”

“Yeah, she’s the keynote at a think-tank summit on cloud

communication integration.” Sloan laughed. “How’d you know?”

“Because every time she goes away, you don’t move out of that

chair until she calls and tells you to go to bed.”

“Oh. She did. I was going, and then, well. You know.”

Frye laughed. “What do you have?”

“I set up keyword tags to send alerts if any query anywhere cross-

references to our open cases.”

“How you’re pulling from other databases is one of the things I

don’t need to know, right?” Frye sounded wide-awake.

“Technically it’s just data sorting—the capture programs, well,

they might be a little…specialized.”

• 148 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Right. Like I said…I don’t know how you came by the info.

And?”“Someone in Massachusetts is asking about the identity of a young

Hispanic female with ties to La Mara.”

“Gotta be thousands of them,” Frye said.

“Yeah, you’re right, but the various factions have pretty well-

defined territories. So if we assume East Coast, that narrows it down.

And if they’re having trouble identifying her, it means she’s either not

in the system anywhere at all—and you know how unlikely that is—or

she’s trying to hide her identity. So why would she do that?”

“I can think of plenty of reasons. Top of the list being she’s wanted

for something somewhere. What else got you interested?”

“Hector’s main squeeze has been noticeably absent on video

surveillance for quite a while.”

“Whose surveillance would that be?”

“The Gang Control Unit has been watching Hector and crew for

over a year, trying to build a RICO case. They’ve got three or four

surveillance units and a wiretap going. Most of the conversations they

pull are in code and pretty useless, but every now and then they’ll get

a good shot of three or four lieutenants and Hector holding a meet

somewhere.”

“And we have access to the Criminal Intelligence Unit video

surveillance tapes how?”

Sloan smiled and tilted her head back, staring at the shadowy

patterns in the pressed-tin loft ceiling overhead. Intricate patterns like

the information highways she traveled in cyberspace, intertwining in

ways that made no sense until suddenly the perfection of the design

snapped into view. “Let’s just say they left the file cabinet drawer open

for anyone passing by to look.”

“You hacked their computers.”

“That’s such a harsh word.”

“Okay, I’m not asking,” Frye said. “That thread you’re pulling is a

little bit stronger now. We’re missing a girl, someone else has one they

can’t identify. What did she do?”

“Don’t know. Right now it’s a missing persons inquiry.” Sloan

sat forward, switched programs on one computer, and pulled up a

reasonably good shot of Hector, two other men, and a young woman

climbing into a Hummer. The girl was pretty—dark curly shoulder-

length hair; emphatic features; strong, full-bodied build.

“Where?”

Sheltering DuneS

• 149 •

“Provincetown.”

“That sure is a far cry from the Badlands. What’s her name?”

“Mia Gonzales. I know it’s a long shot, Frye, but the description

fits her. Right age, right distinguishing characteristics.”

“Ink?”

“That we don’t have.”

“What’s your theory?”

“If it’s her, she’s either doing work for Hector up there—muling

maybe—or she’s running.”

Rebecca sighed. “If she skipped out on MS-13, they’ll chase her

until they find her. And they won’t care about leaving a trail of bodies.”

“I know. But if it’s her, and we get to her first—we’ve been looking

for some way into 13 for a long time. She could be our key.”

“Do we have anything on her?”

Sloan tapped keys and another database opened. “I’m looking.

Hector is pretty damn arrogant—he takes credit for just about everything

that goes down in the region, but no one has any evidence to make

anything stick. If she’s his girl, she’s got to know what he’s into. Makes

her an accessory at the least.”

“Worth working it.” Rebecca sounded as if she was getting up.

Her muffled voice said, “It’s okay. I’m not leaving yet.”

Sloan realized she’d probably woken Frye’s wife with her phone

call. “Sorry about the hour.”

“Forget it. I’m up now, and Catherine is used to nighttime calls.

I’m going for a run, then I’ll reach out to the Massachusetts people

when the sun comes up. Text me the name and number of whoever’s in

charge up there.”

“Good enough.”

“And, Sloan?”

“Yeah?”

“Go to bed.”

“Sure thing.” Sloan disconnected, swiveled to face another bank

of monitors, and called up another program.

v

Provincetown

Mica felt as if she was walking through a dark room with her

hands out in front of her, trying to identify familiar objects that were

• 150 •

RAdCLY fFE

no longer where they used to be. She wasn’t a virgin. She knew what

sex was. She’d thought, before the first time Flynn kissed her, she’d

known what desire was. She’d been so wrong. The shape and texture

of the landscape she’d thought she understood and knew how to travel

had changed. She couldn’t recognize the landmarks, couldn’t find the

guideposts. She was lost.

Her skin burned, her breasts ached, and she was so wet her own

body was a foreign country. The pressure between her thighs was

unbearable. Unbearable and scarily exciting. She had no idea what she

was doing, she only knew she couldn’t stop. Flynn lay beneath her, soft

and strong and warm. Part of her mind was aware Flynn was hurt, and

she kept her weight on her forearms and thighs, but everywhere their

bodies touched, Flynn’s heat seared through her protective layers and

scorched her to the bone.

Mica had never experienced desire so exquisite, or as disorienting,

as the brilliant surprise of Flynn’s caress. Her touch, gentle and sure,

was as mysterious as it was reassuring. Mica knew what it was to be

seen as a possession, to be touched with disregard, to be used without

consideration. She’d never known the aching tenderness Flynn’s

fingertips painted over her skin.

“We gotta stop,” Mica murmured. “Your side.”

“I’m okay.” Flynn skimmed her tongue over Mica’s lower lip.

“You have a beautiful mouth. I think I could be happy kissing you

forever.”

Mica’s hips surged. The look in Flynn’s stormy blue eyes melted

every wall she’d ever built to keep herself from breaking. Flynn was

already too close, already had too much power. “You’re gonna hurt

when your brain starts working again.”

“If you want to stop, we’ll stop.” Flynn licked Mica’s throat from

the hollow between her collarbones to the sensitive spot under her jaw.

“But my brain is working fine and it’s saying I want you. I want your

mouth again. Kiss me. Just one more time.”

Mica couldn’t say no. She couldn’t bear to see the light in Flynn’s

eyes disappear. She wanted to make her burn the way she burned.

Flynn’s desire for her made her want to cry. The sweetness of Flynn’s

touch was as sharp as a perfect blade, piercing without pain to her core.

“One,” she whispered. “You get one more.”

Flynn wrapped Mica’s thick hair around her wrist and slowly

drew her head down until their mouths were a breath apart. “Make it a

long one.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 151 •

Mica brushed her mouth back and forth over Flynn’s and teased her

tongue over the silky inner surface of Flynn’s lower lip. Flynn sucked

lightly on her tongue and her clit pulsed rapidly. She couldn’t stop at

one, she was drunk on the headiness of Flynn’s taste. She slipped her

tongue inside and played in the recesses of Flynn’s mouth, stroking and

probing, her kisses becoming harder, more demanding. She wanted her.

She wanted her in places she couldn’t touch. Groaning, Mica straddled

Flynn’s thigh and rocked her hips. Her breasts brushed Flynn’s and her

nipples tingled. Never like this before. Never.

The sounds Flynn made in the back of her throat stabbed through

Mica like sweet agony. She couldn’t get enough of Flynn’s mouth,

couldn’t get deep enough inside her. She wanted to crawl inside Flynn’s

skin, but hers felt as if it were going to burst open any second.

Mica yanked her head back. “I can’t breathe. Dios. I’m going to

explode.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll slow down.” Flynn caressed her cheek, the

light strokes calming Mica’s racing heart. “Better? You good now?”

Mica caught her breath, but her hips pumped of their own accord.

She was naked except for the T-shirt and so wet. Every time her clitoris

slid against Flynn’s hard thigh she wanted to come. She was so close her

stomach cramped. She stared at her fingers, gripping Flynn’s forearms

until her knuckles were white. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Flynn’s hands glided up and down her back, soothing

one second, exciting her to the point of screaming the next. “What are

you sorry for?”

“Holding you too hard.” Mica’s sex tightened and she gasped.

“Bruising you.”

“You feel wonderful. You’re not hurting me.”

Mica fought back a whimper and tugged her lower lip between

her teeth. Spots danced before her eyes. Her throat tightened. She was

on the edge of coming, and if she did, if she did…panic swelled in her

chest. She’d never felt so vulnerable, so out of control. “I don’t know…

Flynn. Help me.”

Flynn’s eyes darkened and her hands tightened on Mica’s ass.

“Mica. Have you ever—”

“Not like this. Not like this. I can’t…” But oh, she wanted to.

Wanted to so much.

“You don’t have to.” Flynn grasped her shoulders. “Mica, stop.

Just…lie down beside me. Everything is perfect, just as it is. We don’t

need to do anything else. We don’t—”

• 152 •

RAdCLY fFE

“No. Don’t go.” Mica kissed her again, needing to taste her,

needing to breathe her in, anything to give her something to hold on

to. She was flying away. Losing herself. She was terrified, amazed.

Flynn tasted so good. Flynn’s arms tightened around her waist and

Mica rocked against Flynn’s pelvis. Flynn’s fingers came into her hair,

holding her, massaging her. Everywhere she burned. The tension in

her loins grew harder, brighter, and she felt herself expanding. Electric

shocks radiated from someplace deep inside her—down her legs, along

her spine. She moaned into Flynn’s neck. “Feels so good. Don’t stop.

Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Flynn whispered, trailing her mouth down Mica’s

throat. She pushed Mica’s T-shirt up and kissed her breast.

Mica whimpered, the heat of Flynn’s mouth setting her aflame.

Her clitoris tightened into a hard knot. “More, do more.”

Flynn pulled Mica’s nipple into her mouth and Mica felt herself

coil inside the way she did before she came. She cupped Flynn’s neck,

holding Flynn’s face to her breast, watched Flynn’s eyes glaze with

desire. As long as she could see Flynn, see her desire, she wasn’t afraid.

She pressed her clit hard into Flynn’s leg and her control unraveled.

“Make me come.”

Flynn sucked her nipple, biting lightly.

“Harder.” Mica twisted her fingers in Flynn’s hair, rode Flynn’s

thigh faster, soaked her leg. Panting, she pushed her breast harder against

Flynn’s mouth. Her vision tunneled until all she saw was Flynn’s face.

Through a haze of unbearable need, she clung to Flynn’s fierce bright

gaze. Burning for her. Mica’s ass clenched. “I’m so so close.”

Mica cried out, pleasure tearing through her. Her arms turned to

jelly and she sagged against Flynn, quivering, racked with pleasure.

She’d never come so hard before. She shuddered and another orgasm

rippled through her. She moaned and clung to Flynn. “What’s happening

to me?”

Flynn cradled Mica’s face in the curve of her neck and kissed her

throat. “You’re all right. Mica, you’re all right. I promise.”

Mica closed her eyes. For just one minute, she wanted to believe.

Sheltering DuneS

• 153 •

chapter twenty

Reese pulled into the deserted clinic lot as the first hint of

sunrise colored the eastern sky a moody purple. She unlocked

the front door and traversed the waiting area with the aid of the faint

light coming from the hallway on the far side of the reception desk. She

remembered the first time she’d entered the building in the middle of

the night after answering a 911 call about a possible break-in. That was

the day she’d met Tory. She smiled at the memory of their unexpected

meeting in a darkened room and Tory’s swift, very effective self-defense

move. If she hadn’t been in so much pain, she would’ve realized she

was falling in love at that very moment.

Now all the examining room doors were closed, and her footsteps

echoed in the silence, but the walk to Tory’s office was a familiar one.

The door was slightly ajar and the reading lamp on the corner of Tory’s

overladen desk lit the room with faint yellow light. Tory was asleep on

the sofa, partially curled on her side, one arm pillowing her cheek, her

legs drawn up. Her right hand rested on her stomach, as if protecting

even now what might be growing within. Reese knelt by the sofa and

kissed Tory’s forehead. “Hi, baby.”

“Good, you’re back,” Tory murmured, sliding her hand up Reese’s

arm and across her shoulder to the back of her neck. She pulled Reese

down for another kiss.

Tory’s mouth was warm, her fingers firm and familiar on Reese’s

neck. The surge of tenderness and desire she always felt on seeing Tory

after they’d been apart kindled in her stomach. “Time to go home.”

Tory kissed her again. “I didn’t know you’d be coming back for

me. Thought you’d send Allie or one of the others.”

• 154 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Allie is still filling out reports and chasing some leads on the

computer. The rest are out looking for the assailant.”

Tory rose up on her elbow and tugged Reese down so she was

sitting on the sofa. Then Tory settled her head in Reese’s lap. “Getting

anywhere?”

“I’m not sure.” Reese stroked Tory’s cheek.

“You sound worried.”

“I am, a little bit. What you told me about the tattoo—La Mara—

it’s a gang tattoo. A particularly nasty gang. I don’t know if what

happened here in town is related to that or not, but it stands to reason

it could be.”

“And you don’t believe in coincidences.”

Reese sifted strands of Tory’s auburn hair through her fingers,

noticing a few new strands of gray. She liked them. Tory got more

beautiful every day. “No, I don’t. I at least have to consider that what’s

going on has something to do with her gang affiliation.”

“Just how serious might this be?”

“Hard to tell.” Reese heard the concern behind Tory’s question

and tried to deflect it. She wasn’t sure how big a problem this might be,

and no matter what the situation, she didn’t want Tory worrying about

it. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“You’d say that no matter what you thought.” Tory rubbed her

cheek against Reese’s stomach. “I’m never going to break you of the

habit of trying to protect me, am I?”

Reese brushed the backs of her fingers over Tory’s cheek.

“Probably not. I don’t know any other way to love you.”

“I know that.” Tory caught Reese’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

“That’s why I’m not giving you a harder time.”

“You do the same thing, you just hide it better.”

Tory laughed. “Probably. Are you ready to take me home?”

“It’s still really early. We should probably leave Reggie with the

grands.”

“You’re right. They won’t mind keeping her. I’ll stop by to see her

before I come back to work and make sure everything is all right.”

“Sounds good. Maybe if we get lucky, we can even sleep in for a

while.”

Tory sat up and kissed her. “We can always hope.”

v

Sheltering DuneS

• 155 •

Mica rolled onto her side with her back to Flynn and drew her

knees up, curling in on herself. Flynn wrapped herself around Mica

from behind, bending her legs so her hips fit against Mica’s ass. She

slipped her arm around Mica’s waist and held her breast in one hand,

pillowing her face against the back of Mica’s shoulder. She kissed the

curve of her shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”

Mica was silent for so long Flynn wondered if she had gone

immediately to sleep.

“I don’t know how to make you come,” Mica finally whispered.

“You don’t have to.”

“You don’t want to?”

Mica was so stiff, Flynn wondered if she was in pain. Maybe the

guy had hurt her worse than she’d let on. Flynn instinctively drew her

closer. “I never said that. Feeling you get excited, holding you while

you came, turned me on really a lot. I’m wet for you. Hard for you.”

“Jesus.” Mica fumbled for Flynn’s hand and gripped Flynn’s

fingers tight. “I know how it works, I just don’t know what you want—

not sure where to start.”

“Do you want to?”

“Make you come?”

“Yes.”

Mica twisted until she was on her back, staring up at Flynn. “Yeah.

I do.”“You could start by kissing me again. Pretty much drives me right

to the edge.”

“Jeez, you’re kind of easy.” Mica grinned a little unevenly.

“Not so much. You’re just mega-sexy.”

“Yeah?”

Mica’s tone was playful on the surface, but a shadow of uncertainty

swept across her face. Flynn’s heart twisted. How could she not know

how amazing she was? Flynn could barely stand to think of who had

touched her before and failed to tell her how special she was. The fury

that seethed in her belly gentled her voice. “Like nobody I’ve ever

known before.”

“Shut up,” Mica ordered, but she was smiling for real when she

slid her arm around Flynn’s shoulders and tugged her down for another

kiss. The kiss was every bit as sweet and hot as the ones before, only

now Flynn couldn’t concentrate on the slide of Mica’s mouth on hers.

She was tied up in knots inside. When Mica had orgasmed, Flynn’s

• 156 •

RAdCLY fFE

clit pounded so hard she thought she might come herself. She was still

pounding, so tightly wound inside she wondered if she could come at

all. She wanted Mica to touch her, but whatever happened between

them needed to be Mica’s choice. She doubted Mica had had many

choices in her life, especially around sex.

Mica’s fingers trailed down her throat and over her chest. When

Mica cupped her breast, Flynn jerked.

“No?” Mica breathed against her mouth.

“Yes, please, yes.” Flynn groaned.

Mica made a humming sound in her throat and squeezed Flynn’s

breast gently. Flynn’s nipple hardened against Mica’s palm, and a small

strangled sound escaped her throat.

“You like that,” Mica said, no doubt in her voice.

Panting, Flynn nodded. “Yeah, I do. When you do it, I like it.”

Mica nibbled on Flynn’s lower lip and Flynn’s hips started to

rock. She needed to come and she didn’t want to push Mica. Maybe she

should masturbate, maybe that would make things easier for Mica. She

kept her hands fisted at her sides. She wanted to wait, she wanted to let

Mica decide. But she wanted to come so bad.

“You’re vibrating.” Mica dragged her teeth down Flynn’s throat.

“Can’t help it. You’re driving me crazy,” Flynn confessed.

“Yeah? Excited, huh?”

“So, so bad. You make me so hot.”

Mica slid her hand down Flynn’s belly. “You’re really tight. I like

that.”Flynn’s arms and legs trembled. Air rushed in and out of her lungs

so fast she was light-headed. “Mica, I’m sorry. I want to go slow, but I

need you so much.”

“You do?”

Flynn moaned. “So much I can’t stand it.”

Mica drew circles on her stomach with her nails and echoed the

movement on Flynn’s breast with her tongue. Electricity shot through

Flynn’s belly and struck her clitoris like a high-voltage current. She

jerked, her legs quivering.

“If you keep that up, I’ll come.”

“Good.” Mica kissed her way down Flynn’s stomach and nibbled

on the taut circle of her belly button. She raked her fingers over Flynn’s

lower abdomen and confidently cupped her sex. Flynn thrust against

her hand, knowing she was getting her wet.

Sheltering DuneS

• 157 •

“You’re in a bad way,” Mica muttered, sounding entirely pleased

with herself.

Flynn gasped, circling her hips, desperate to ease the pressure in

her clit. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do.” Mica stroked Flynn’s shaft between her fingers. “I

think I know what you might be feeling right now.” She continued to

caress her, steady and firm.

“You’ll make me come,” Flynn warned. Her eyes were open but

she couldn’t see a thing. She was blind with pleasure.

“How soon?” Mica sucked Flynn’s nipple and circled faster

between her legs.

“A minute,” Flynn gasped.

Mica tugged on her nipple and sucked it hard into her mouth. The

electricity turned into a shock wave and Flynn’s clit exploded.

“Now,” Flynn exclaimed. “Right now.”

And then she was coming all over Mica’s hand, groaning and

writhing and totally helpless.

Mica threw one leg over Flynn’s and rubbed her clit against Flynn’s

leg while Flynn was coming. Feeling Flynn orgasm, hearing her sobs of

relief, made Mica need to come again. The little bit of pressure against

her clit was enough to set her off, and she cried out against Flynn’s

breast, her mouth brushing Flynn’s nipple. Flynn’s arm came around

her, holding her tight, keeping her close.

“Don’t stop,” Flynn gasped. “Keep going, I’ll come again. Oh

yeah, just like that. I need you.”

Mica lay half on top of Flynn, quivering, still stroking her. She’d

never felt so powerful or so out-of-control in her life. “Come. I want

you to come again.”

“I am. So good. So, so good.” Flynn pulled Mica on top of her,

settling Mica’s thigh between her legs against her still-pulsing clit. The

pressure kept her hard just the way she needed it. She stroked Mica’s

back. “You do amazing things to me.”

“You do pretty crazy things to me too.”

Flynn closed her eyes. “I’m so glad.”

Mica sighed, as if she was suddenly weary, and rested her head

on Flynn’s shoulder. Flynn wondered how long she had before Mica

started to regret what had just happened between them.

v

• 158 •

RAdCLY fFE

Allie got home a little before six a.m. She’d tried to be quiet

coming in and undressing, but she knew Ash was awake. She could

feel her presence in the dark, waiting for her. She crawled into bed,

rolled onto her side, and nestled against Ash. Resting her cheek on

Ash’s chest, she brought one leg up over Ash’s and wrapped her arm

around her. Ash’s hand came into her hair and Allie sighed. She loved

being totally connected like this.

“Flynn okay?” Ash asked.

Allie nodded and kissed Ash’s breast. “Pretty banged up, but she’s

okay.”“Get the guy?”

“No. Probably won’t either. At least not right away.”

“Random?”

“On the surface, it looks that way. But—I’m not sure.”

Ash stroked her back and massaged the tightness between her

shoulders and Allie snuggled closer. “How do you always find the spot

where the knots are?”

“Because you’re mine,” Ash murmured lazily.

“Yeah, yeah.” Allie melted every time Ash said that. She loved

being hers. She loved that Ash belonged to her too. Hers and only hers,

in all the world. “Reese thinks there’s a gang connection, somehow,

with Mica. And I’m pretty sure Flynn is involved with her.”

“Really. I wouldn’t have called that.”

“What? Flynn being involved, or her being involved with that

kind of girl?”

“Babe”—Ash tilted Allie’s face up with a finger under her chin

and kissed her—“I can see Flynn with a girl, no problem—just as long

as it’s not you. I guess I’ve been thinking of her as the stereotypical

priest—unadventurous, introverted, traditional.”

Allie laughed. “That’s not Flynn.”

“Guess not.” Ash tucked Allie’s head back under her chin. “So

what do you think about Reese’s theory?”

“I’ve been doing some research. If Mica is part of La Mara, it’s

bad news. I found a couple of reports of members who tried to get away,

and they never made it. One girl turned informer and they tracked her

down across three states. Killed her. Same thing for a guy.”

Ash stiffened. “You think that might be what’s going on here?”

“Maybe. I have to talk to Mica again.”

“And Flynn is involved with her?”

“Oh yeah. They went home together.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 159 •

“How are you with that?”

Allie caressed Ash’s belly, smiling to herself when Ash sucked in

a breath. “That Flynn’s seeing a really cute girl?”

Ash’s hips lifted into Allie’s hand as Allie caressed lower.

“Uh-huh,” Ash gasped.

“Mmm. Doesn’t bother me.” Allie let her fingers drift between

Ash’s legs. Ash was hot and wet, unbelievably sexy. “Oh yes.” Leaning

up on one elbow, she kissed Ash, stroking with her tongue in time with

stroking between her legs. When she stopped to breathe, she said, “But

I’m not real happy about Flynn getting mixed up in things.”

“You’ll be careful, right?” Ash turned Allie onto her back and fit

her hips between Allie’s thighs. Allie wrapped her legs around Ash’s

hips and Ash worked her hand between them and inside her.

“Oh God, baby,” Allie moaned.

“You’ll be careful, right?”

“God yes, yes. Just fuck me.”

Ash pushed deeper and did exactly as Allie demanded. Allie lifted

her hips, took her deeper, and forgot about everything except Ash.

Sheltering DuneS

• 161 •

chapter twenty-One

Flynn watched Mica move quietly around the room, gathering

her clothes in the gray light of dawn. When she slid her hand

across the sheet to where Mica had been a few moments before, the

spot was already beginning to cool. She doubted they had dozed for

more than an hour.

“Where are you going?”

“Gotta get home. Have to work in an hour or so.”

Flynn slowly pushed up on the bed, protecting her still-sore side.

“You’re going to try to work today?”

“Not like I have any choice,” Mica said with her back still

turned.

“I think considering what happened, your boss will give you the

day off.”

Mica, nude, spun around with her T-shirt gripped in her hand

and partially covering her breasts. Flynn’s heart plummeted at Mica’s

sudden wariness. They’d been so close, so united, when they’d been

making love, the distance now flamed like an open wound.

Mica glared. “When are you going to get that the rules you live by

are different than how most of us live? Maybe you never had to worry

about losing a job because you had to take your kid to daycare or your

grandmother to the doctor and were ten minutes late.”

“You’re right.” Flynn pushed the covers aside and swung her

legs over, halting halfway through as another tearing sensation lanced

through her side.

“You hurting?” Mica pulled on her jeans, not bothering with

panties.

“I’m okay.”

“Doesn’t look like it. Stay there. You got aspirin or something?”

• 162 •

RAdCLY fFE

“There’s a bottle of Motrin in the medicine cabinet in the

bathroom,” Flynn said. “I wouldn’t mind having four of them. What

about you? You’ve got to be sore.”

“It’s not bad.” Mica shrugged and pulled on her T-shirt.

“You’re a little bit hoarse.” Flynn didn’t mention the chain of

faint red blotches on Mica’s neck where their attacker had gripped her.

Mica would undoubtedly shrug it off, and reminding her of what had

happened just seemed cruel.

When Mica disappeared into the bathroom, Flynn got up, found

her jeans, and, bending carefully, pulled them on. Shirtless, she held

out her hand for the glass of water Mica brought back, along with four

ibuprofen. “Thanks. Did you take some?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jeez.” Mica’s gaze trailed down over her chest and

Flynn’s nipples tightened. She couldn’t remember ever having been so

sensitive to another woman’s attention. Maybe because she suspected

Mica didn’t give her attention easily. She wondered if Mica had a

girlfriend. The idea of someone else touching her, pleasuring her, made

Flynn agitated and uneasy. There was so much she didn’t know about

Mica, so much she wanted to know. And after last night, so much she

needed to know.

“Okay, so,” Mica said, “you ought to go back to bed. Didn’t the

doctor say you should take it easy?”

Flynn pulled on a cotton shirt and buttoned it halfway up. “Mica,

I know last night was crazy,” Flynn paused and grinned, “and part of

it was amazing, but you told me you would talk to me. I need for us to

talk.”“I never said we’d talk.” Mica backed up as if Flynn had threatened

her. Flynn stood still, willing to give her space, but not willing to let

her put up walls. “I don’t want you to go.”

Mica took another step back. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Maybe you don’t remember, but I’m pretty sure you said we’d

talk.”“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“How about us sleeping together?”

“Is there something about it you didn’t understand?” Mica slipped

into the flip-flops she’d kicked off inside the bedroom door a few hours

earlier.

“Oh, I think I understand what happened pretty well,” Flynn said.

Sheltering DuneS

• 163 •

“Like I said, it was amazing. You’re amazing. I pretty much lose it the

minute you touch me.”

Mica went very still, her face hard to read, but her eyes lit up from

within. “You mean that.”

“I do. If I had any choice at all, I’d want you back in bed with

me right now. I’d want to keep going, do a million things we haven’t

had a chance to do yet. I told you I’d be hungry. I didn’t realize I’d be

starving.”

“I don’t know if I can do that for you,” Mica said quietly. “Take

care of that hunger.”

“We won’t know, will we, until we try? What about you? Are

you hungry at all?” Flynn felt as if she were poised on the edge of a

precipice. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d been the only one to

need, the only one to want. She’d misjudged completely with Evelyn.

She’d been so blinded by her own passion she hadn’t realized Evelyn

was afraid. Afraid of censure, afraid of losing her social status, afraid of

losing her position in the church. Evelyn had been willing to sleep with

her but not commit to her. She’d chosen the safer route, one that Flynn

had never seen coming. Evelyn had chosen her twin, who looked almost

exactly like her, except that he was male and therefore acceptable. Her

heart hammered wildly, as if she were waiting for judgment. “Mica? If

it’s only one time, tell me now.”

Mica closed the distance she’d created between them, pressed her

hands flat against Flynn’s chest, and kissed her. Her kiss was open-

mouthed, hard and demanding. Her breasts crushed against Flynn’s,

her pelvis molding to her. Everything about her was hot and possessive.

The ache in Flynn’s heart vanished. Even the pain in her injured side

receded to a distant throb. She wrapped her arms around Mica’s waist

and lifted until Mica was standing on tiptoe, straddling her thigh, riding

her. The movement hurt, but Flynn didn’t care. Mica seemed to be the

only medicine she needed.

When Mica pulled away, Flynn had lost her train of thought, and

that never happened to her. She fought to steady her breathing, her

fingertips resting on the outer contours of Mica’s hips. “Was that a yes?

Please tell me that was a yes.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” Mica said. “I want you to do everything you

did to me last night and more. You’re so hot when you come—I want to

make you do it over and over. I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t

know if I’m glad about that or not.”

• 164 •

RAdCLY fFE

“I’m here,” Flynn murmured. “This can be the beginning, not the

end. If you let me, I’ll stay.”

Mica pushed away, the hot light of passion in her eyes turning to

a blaze of anger. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that. You don’t know

anything.”

Flynn caught Mica’s hand before she could retreat again. “Then

tell me. Help me. Please.”

“What do you want to know? What do you think talking will

prove?”

“Tell me about the tattoo on your back,” Flynn said.

Mica jerked. “What?”

“The tattoo. It’s beautiful, but I wonder what it means.”

“Forget it.” Mica turned and strode out of the room.

For half a second, Flynn contemplated letting her go. She was

pushing, maybe pushing too hard. Mica might have a very good reason

for keeping her silence. If the attack in the alley wasn’t random last

night, then Mica was in danger. But if Mica was in danger, Flynn

needed to know why. She couldn’t help her unless she did.

Flynn went after her. The only way to show Mica she wasn’t

going to treat her the way everyone else had was not to live up to her

expectations. Mica expected her to let her go. And she wasn’t going to.

Flynn made it to the living room just as Mica reached the front door. “I

could use coffee. How about you? I think I might have some bagels or

something too.”

Mica stopped, paused for seconds that felt like eternity, and finally

spun around. “I could do with some coffee. But you are not making it.

You sit your ass on one of those stools at the counter over there and tell

me where all the stuff is. Then I’ll make it.”

“Deal.” Flynn eased onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar and

directed Mica to find coffee, mugs, and the bagels. Despite everything,

she was hungry for food, and she suspected Mica was too. It’d been a

hell of a night.

“Here you go,” Mica said, passing Flynn a mug of coffee.

“Thanks. So are you going to tell me about the tattoo? I’ve never

seen one so big or so elaborate.”

“It’s the symbol of my crew.”

“Your crew?”

“You know, the people I hang with.”

“Are we talking about a gang?”

“Yeah,” Mica said, thrusting her chin out, preparing for the pain

Sheltering DuneS

• 165 •

when Flynn walked. She hadn’t planned on telling Flynn anything, but

she hadn’t planned on waking up in bed with her either. Flynn just

didn’t quit, and every time Mica pulled away, Flynn said something,

did something, to reel her back in again. Well, now she knew. Now it

was out in the open, and this was when Flynn would quit. At least it

would be over quickly, and she wouldn’t have to tell Flynn anything

that could get her hurt. Better to cut off any connection before they got

any tighter. She was already having trouble making it out the door. She

never should have let Flynn get over on her the way she had, but Flynn

was so freaking beautiful. So amazing. No one had ever made her feel

the way Flynn did. No one had ever touched her as if she were special.

Flynn turned fucking into something she’d never thought possible. She

made it miraculous. If she hung around Flynn much longer, she was

going to forget who she was and what mattered.

“Does this gang have something to do with that guy attacking us

last night?” Flynn asked.

Mica hadn’t expected the question. She’d thought Flynn would

pull back, make small talk, and get her out of the apartment as quickly

as possible. Now Flynn really seemed to want to know what was going

on. Fuck, this was getting way too complicated. “I don’t know. Look,

Flynn—”

“But it might?”

Mica reached for a bagel, broke it in half, and bit off a piece. If she

told Flynn anything else, Flynn could get in trouble. She wasn’t going

to do that. “Just let it go.”

“I want to know, Mica. It matters to me. Whatever is happening, or

you think might happen, you don’t have to handle it all on your own.”

Mica dropped the bagel onto the paper plate she’d found in one of

the cupboards. “You don’t think so? And just who do you think is going

to come to my rescue? I know you’re a priest, and for all I know, you

can really make miracles. But it’ll take more than a miracle, and I don’t

think you come equipped with what it takes to handle this.”

“What does it take?”

“An assault rifle.”

Flynn flinched. “Well, you’re right. I don’t have one of those. If

I did, I wouldn’t know what to do with it. But I’ve got friends who

probably have something similar. You met one of them last night. Allie.

If you’re in trouble, why don’t we—”

“Your friend Allie—if that’s what she is, is a cop. She can’t help

me.”

• 166 •

RAdCLY fFE

“You’re not asking about her”—Flynn took the other half of the

bagel Mica had left on the plate, cut it open, and spread some butter on

it—“but Allie has a partner she’s crazy about. And that’s just fine with

me—like I said, she’s a friend.”

“She’s still a cop.”

“She is. And she’s honest. She cares about what happens to

people.”

Mica shook her head. “I’m not one of her people. I’m the outsider.

This doesn’t have anything to do with this town or any of you.”

“It does now,” Flynn said. “It matters now because you’re here.

And you’re one of us now.”

Mica stared. One of them? Why—because she worked in a

restaurant and slept with one of the townies? Because she was queer,

like them?

“I’m not one of you. I’ll never be one of you.”

“Are you one of them still?”

Mica thought about the tattoo on her back, about the scars on her

body, about the memories she’d never get rid of. She thought about

Hector’s fists lashing out and his cock driving inside her.

“No, I’m not one of them either. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“Maybe you do, and you just don’t know it yet.”

“And you think you’re going to help me figure that out?”

Flynn took Mica’s face in her hands and gently kissed her. “Maybe.

Maybe you’ll help me figure it out too.”

Mica rested her cheek on Flynn’s shoulder. “I don’t see how. I’m

not even sure I can help myself.”

“Call in sick,” Flynn said. “Then come back to bed and tell me

the rest.”

“The guy last night in the alley,” Mica said quietly. “He’s probably

just a scout. If I stick around here and anyone else comes, they won’t

be as friendly.”

Flynn suppressed a shudder as ice crystallized in her blood. She

wasn’t afraid for herself, not physically. But she was terrified of not

being able to help Mica. “Why? Tell me why.”

“You have to understand what you’re getting into. If you get

caught in the middle of this, you could get hurt. Do you get that?”

“I understand. I’m not afraid.”

Mica gripped a handful of Flynn’s shirt. “You should be. You

should be fucking terrified. You should let me go right now.”

“No.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 167 •

Mica closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against Flynn’s

chest. “Why not?”

This was the answer she couldn’t get wrong. Flynn stroked Mica’s

hair and clasped her loosely around the waist. She wouldn’t hold her if

she didn’t want to stay, but she wanted Mica to know beyond doubt that

she cared. “Because I love the way you laugh. And I love the way you

kiss. And I love how strong you are. You’re strong in ways I’ve never

been, but you make me feel I could be. I don’t want you to go because

I need you to stay.”

Mica tilted her head back and studied Flynn’s face. She brushed her

fingertips over Flynn’s mouth and kissed her. “Just for a little while.”

“All right,” Flynn said softly, taking her hand, “a little while.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 169 •

chapter twenty-twO

Allie grabbed the phone on the first ring, slipped out of bed,

and padded naked into the living room so as not to wake Ash.

“Tremont.”

“Got a call to route through to you,” Smith said.

“What’s it about? I just finally got to bed.”

“I know, sorry, but I figured you’d want this. You’ve been running

all those checks and something must have popped up somewhere. Got

a detective down in Philly wants to talk to the lead investigator, and the

file says that’s you.”

Allie’s heart jumped. Finally, something. “Great. Can you connect

us?” “Hold on…” A click and a buzzing came over the line. “Go

ahead.”

“This is Officer Allie Tremont.”

“Detective Lieutenant Rebecca Frye of the Philadelphia PD.”

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” Allie hoped she didn’t sound

nervous. Ordinarily she wasn’t intimidated by brass, but detective

lieutenants didn’t make callbacks for nothing. All of a sudden, she

wasn’t certain what she wanted to hear. If Mica was in trouble, then

she wanted to know. She wanted to prevent another episode like last

night. On the other hand, if Mica was trouble, Flynn was going to get

hurt. She’d seen the way Flynn had looked at Mica. Flynn was already

hooked whether she knew it or not. Mica had been harder for Allie to

read. When she’d looked into the rearview mirror and seen Mica with

her head on Flynn’s shoulder, she’d been surprised. She hadn’t expected

that kind of vulnerability from the tough street kid Mica obviously was.

Now she found herself hoping she wasn’t going to hear something that

would end up hurting either of them.

• 170 •

RAdCLY fFE

“I might be able to help you,” the cool, deep voice on the other

end of the line said.

“How is that?”

“You sent out a missing persons bulletin—Hispanic female, mid-

twenties, using the name Mica Butler.”

Allie squeezed the phone so hard the edges made ridge-like

indents in her palm. She really was on to something, and she somehow

doubted a detective lieutenant was calling back about a missing person.

“That’s right.”

“What has she done?”

“Nothing that I’m aware of. She was involved in a vehicular

incident, and then last night, an assault.”

“Butler assaulted someone?”

Allie searched for some clue in the detective’s voice but could

find nothing. She was aware she was providing more information than

she was getting, but then again, she was the one asking. “No. She and

another woman were assaulted while walking home from the bar where

Butler works. Could be random, but I have the feeling Butler was the

target.”

“What makes you think that?”

“No attempt was made to sexually assault either woman, robbery

didn’t seem to be the motive, and it didn’t have the earmarkings of a

hate crime. It appeared the assailant specifically wanted Butler.”

“An abduction?”

Allie took a stab in the dark. “Or maybe a retrieval. A jealous

husband maybe.”

“Do you have a computer handy?”

“I’m at home, but my personal computer is available.”

“Let me have your e-mail address and I’ll send you a file. You can

tell me if your girl is our girl.”

Allie strode to the small alcove she used as an office and opened

her mail program. She gave the detective her e-mail address. “May I

ask what your interest in this is?”

“The file’s on its way,” Frye said. “If your girl and our girl are

one and the same, you’ve got the girlfriend of the leader of the mid-

Atlantic division—Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware—of MS-

13 up there.”

Allie’s pulse skyrocketed. She knew it. She knew something was

off. “Is she wanted for anything?”

Sheltering DuneS

• 171 •

“At this point, she’s a person of interest. She might be on the run.

We’re not sure.”

“Wait a minute, it’s coming through.” Allie clicked on the file

and a grainy photo appeared. The girl in the image was Mica. She let

her breath out and her stomach turned over. She was happy to have

been right, but felt no joy in being vindicated. Whatever was going on

couldn’t be good for either Mica or Flynn. “That’s her.”

“Her name is Mia Gonzales,” Frye said. “She’s twenty-three and

has been in La Mara since she was fifteen.”

“Any arrests?” Allie asked. God, what was she going to tell

Flynn?

“Surprisingly, no. Our intelligence is patchy, but reports are she’s

smart and tough and has managed to avoid routine sweeps.”

“Maybe she’s clean.”

“Maybe. Tell me about the assault.”

Allie filled her in. “We don’t have much of anything to go on at

this point.”

“I take it your population is fairly transient—tourist town?”

“The year-round population is small and we know everyone.

There’s no established gang activity locally, but we’ve had our share

of problems during the height of the season with drugs moving through

and even some small-time arms deals.”

“I remember there was an offshore shootout a few years back.

That was drug related, wasn’t it?”

“I wasn’t here then, but the acting chief was. Reese Conlon.”

“You’ve got a situation on your hands that could get nasty, Officer.

We need to know what she’s doing there.”

“I can talk to her.”

“You could,” the detective said. “I’d like to speak to your chief

first. Got a problem with that?”

Allie smiled. Like it would make a difference if she did. When a

ranking detective wanted to speak to her boss, she didn’t have much

choice. “Of course not. I can give you her number. Unless you want to

wait for her to call you when she comes in.”

“I’d like to keep things moving. Let me have her number.”

Allie gave her Reese’s number.

“Thanks, and nice work, Officer Tremont. Most people would’ve

just let it go.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

• 172 •

RAdCLY fFE

“I have a feeling we’ll be speaking again.”

“Any time.” Allie ended the call, went back into the bedroom, and

took a clean uniform out of her closet.

“Going back to work?” Ash asked, coming up behind her.

Allie turned, wrapped her arms around Ash’s neck, and kissed her.

“That was a police detective from Philadelphia. Mica—the girl with

Flynn—is part of a gang there.”

“You were right, then, about something going on.”

Allie sighed. “Yeah. So why don’t I feel better about it?”

“Because you don’t want Flynn to get hurt, and something tells

me you may even like Mica a little bit.”

Allie draped her uniform shirt and pants over the back of a chair

and headed for the bathroom. Ash followed. When she turned on the

shower and stepped under the spray, Ash came with her. She put her

hands on Ash’s shoulders and said, “Turn around.”

Ash did, and Allie soaped her shoulders and back, running her

hands up and down the columns of muscle, her belly heating as Ash’s

ass flexed with each stroke. “There’s something about Mica that’s

likable.” She massaged Ash’s neck, pressing along her spine with her

thumbs, working out the knots. Ash had spent too many hours behind

the wheel lately. “She’s tough and strong, but I suppose she’d have to

be to survive in that environment.”

“Babe, you gotta stop touching me or you’re not getting to work

for a while.”

“Is that right? Well, you were gone longer than usual, so you must

be working on a deficit right now.”

Ash spun around, grabbed the soap, and tumbled it into the soap

dish while backing Allie against the tiled wall and kissing her. “I don’t

have to be away to build up a powerful need for you. I just have to be

breathing.”

Allie skimmed her hands over the outer edges of Ash’s breasts

and rubbed Ash’s nipples with her thumbs until they tightened. “You’re

going to have to hold on to that powerful need a little while longer. Can

you do that for me?”

“I can do anything you want.” Ash nuzzled Allie’s neck and kissed

her. “Just be careful.”

“I will be, I promise.” Allie hoped for Flynn’s sake, and Mica’s

too, that this all turned out to be nothing more than a coincidence. That

the assault in the alley had nothing to do with Mica’s past. She could

hope for that, but she knew it was only wishful thinking.

Sheltering DuneS

• 173 •

v

Flynn lay with her head propped on her elbow facing Mica, who

sat cross-legged, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. Mica

had pulled off her T-shirt and Flynn had stripped down too. The room

was warm, sun coming through the window behind Mica, haloing her

body in gold and leaving her face in shadows. She could see Mica’s

eyes, though, dark and glittering and troubled.

“Why was that guy after you last night?” Flynn asked.

“I’m not sure,” Mica said. “He either wanted to take me back, or

he wanted to make an example of me.”

Flynn couldn’t get a deep breath, not because her side hurt, but

because the more Mica told her about the gang, the more her stomach

tightened with dread. “What does that mean? Make an example of

you?”“When you join La Mara, it’s for life,” Mica said. “No one

leaves.”

“But you did.”

“I didn’t leave. I ran away.”

“Why?”

Mica shook her head. Flynn kept catching her off guard with her

questions, asking her things she couldn’t believe Flynn cared about. Like

why she joined, and what her family was like, and if they knew what

the gang was like. Asking her what it was like being in the gang, being

a woman, being afraid. She answered things she’d never told anyone,

because Flynn kept watching her with her calm, gentle expression and

eyes so fierce Mica felt Flynn’s gaze heat her skin. Flynn was the most

amazing combination of steady and strong. Mica reached for Flynn’s

hand. Warm. Sure. “I don’t want to tell you any more. You shouldn’t

know any of this.”

“It doesn’t matter what you tell me,” Flynn said, “because you’re

not going back. And no one’s going to know what I know.”

“But if they find me with you, you need to be able to walk

away.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then I hope being a priest doesn’t mean you can’t lie. Because

you’ll have to. You have to tell them you don’t know anything. That we

just hooked up casually and you don’t know anything about me.”

“Let me worry about what I say and who I say it to.”

• 174 •

RAdCLY fFE

“I would if you weren’t so crazy.”

Flynn smiled.

“Now it’s your turn,” Mica said.

“What do you mean?” Flynn pushed some pillows together against

the wall and sat up, her bare leg stretching along Mica’s.

Flynn’s skin was smooth and hot, and Mica remembered coming

with her legs wrapped around Flynn’s thigh. Her breasts swelled and

her clit started to ache. She wanted to straddle Flynn right then and

there, kiss her and rub against her until she made Flynn make those

crazy sexy noises, until she got hot and wet and came on her again.

That would be the easy thing to do, a lot easier than talking. But Flynn

knew things about her now that no one else did. And she wanted to

know about her.

“I saw you with that sick guy the other day. I heard you praying

for him—and it mattered to him. You’re a priest. What are you doing

here, why aren’t you, you know, being a priest?”

Flynn traced her fingers down Mica’s arm, around the edges of the

blood-red heart. “I left—not the church. Just the system.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t very good at it.”

Mica narrowed her eyes. “I think that’s bullshit. You looked pretty

good at it to me. And that man thought so too. Whatever you were

saying, it wasn’t just words. I could feel it across the hall. You touched

him somehow, someway.”

Flynn closed her eyes against the piercing pain. She’d always

known her calling, always been so sure, until her arrogance cost an

unbearable price. When she opened her eyes, Mica was staring at her,

demanding an answer. “I was counseling a teenager. Her name was

Debbie. She thought she was a lesbian, but she wasn’t sure, and she was

afraid God would abandon her if she sinned.”

“Do you think God cares?”

“No,” Flynn said, “I don’t. I think love, respect, caring—those are

the things that matter. But what I think isn’t what’s important.”

“So what happened?”

“We talked. I urged her to discuss things with her parents, gave

her some information on gay and lesbian youth groups where she could

connect with other young adults in the same situation. We talked about

God.”“You didn’t tell her what to do?”

Flynn shook her head. “It’s not my place to dictate behavior.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 175 •

Mica laughed. “You’re kind of a strange priest.”

“At the end of our last session, Debbie said how much our talks

had helped her understand her feelings. That she felt better about who

she was.”

“So that’s good.”

“I thought so,” Flynn said grimly. “I was very pleased with what

we had accomplished. Except the next morning she took a bottle of

her mother’s prescription medication. By the time anyone realized she

wasn’t in school, it was too late.”

“She didn’t tell anybody?”

“No. She didn’t call me. She didn’t tell anyone. But she left a note.

A note that said she knew God wouldn’t forgive her for what she’d

done, but she didn’t believe God would forgive her for who she was

either.”

“Oh man, that’s bad. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t see it coming.” Flynn rubbed her face. “If I’d suspected,

if I’d had the slightest idea what she might do, I could have stopped her.

But I let her walk out, pleased that we were making progress. Pleased

that I’d helped her. When I had utterly and completely failed her.”

“Being a priest,” Mica said softly, “that makes you a mind reader

too, huh?”

“I should have known, Mica. I should have known and I didn’t.”

Flynn’s chest constricted with the agony of her failure. “My arrogance,

my pride, blinded me to her need. I failed her.”

“You did what you could—if she’d come to you, you would have

helped her. It’s not all on you.” Mica shifted closer and slid her arm

around Flynn’s shoulders. She tugged and Flynn rested her head on her

shoulder. “You can’t save everyone, you know.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Flynn murmured. “But if you don’t try,

what’s the point of anything?”

“Do you think you can save me?” Mica asked.

“If you’re in need of saving, you’ll do it yourself. You’re plenty

strong enough.” Flynn tilted her head and met Mica’s gaze. “I don’t

want to be your savior. I’m no one’s savior.”

“That’s good, because I don’t want you to be my priest.” Mica

kissed Flynn slowly and thoroughly. “Even if you are one, no matter

what you say about it. You can walk away from your life if you want to,

but you can’t change who you are. Didn’t they teach you that?”

Sheltering DuneS

• 177 •

chapter twenty-three

What do you think?” Reese asked.

Tory snuggled closer, her cheek pressed to Reese’s chest,

one of her favorite positions. She loved listening to Reese’s heart. The

steady, strong, unwavering beat, so much like Reese herself. She pressed

a kiss to one of the many scars that were so much a part of Reese too.

She might never be able to overlook them, but she understood them.

She understood Reese’s need to put herself between those she loved

and danger. Reese had been raised in a military family to be a soldier,

and she lived the concepts that were to so many only theoretical. The

words “honor” and “duty” shaped the horizons of Reese’s life and

guided the actions of every day, in her family, in her job, in her dreams.

Tory hadn’t expected to find a woman she could count on to be there,

physically and emotionally, unendingly. The price she paid for that

incredible gift was the ever-present fear that one day Reese wouldn’t

come home. Joy almost always overshadowed her dread, relegating the

agony to the distant recesses of her consciousness, but every morning

when Reese left the house, some small part of her worried over what

evil Reese would face that day and if she would put herself in the line

of fire rather than let even the life of a stranger be at risk. “What do I

think about what?”

“The little swimmers.” Reese stroked her hair. “Did we hit a home

run?”Tory laughed. “Well, we certainly gave them a good send-off.”

“Oh, I know I got my part right.” Reese chuckled, a comforting

rumble that chased away the whisper of sadness. “A couple of times.”

“Your part. Oh really? All on your own?” Tory slapped Reese’s

stomach, and muscles sang beneath her fingertips. She loved Reese’s

body, the soft swell of her breasts, the taut stretch of her abdomen

• 178 •

RAdCLY fFE

and thighs. She skimmed her fingertips in slow circles over the ridges

and valleys and lines of past battles, other moments when she could

have lost her. But she hadn’t lost her. Reese was hers. “In addition to

your stellar performance and out-of-the-park winning hits, I have this

feeling…”

Reese sucked in a breath. “A feeling? What kind of feeling?”

“There’s this thrumming deep inside. A kind of knowing. It feels a

lot like coming home to you—comforting, peaceful, exciting.”

“That’s good, then.” Reese kissed her. “That’s great. I can’t wait

until I can feel him.”

“Him?”

“Reggie asked for a brother.”

“Um, darling? She’s not two yet. Are you sure she said that?”

“Positive.”

Tory laughed. “You’ll need to tell her that’s not the kind of thing

you can just order up. Even if you do think you can make the world

spin just for her.”

“I don’t—spin, huh? I suppose if she asked me to—”

“You’d find a way.” Tory smiled. “I’m a little older this time

around. It might be a little harder hitting that home run.”

Reese tightened her arms around Tory. “I haven’t noticed any

difference. You’re still just as beautiful, just as hot, and just as sexy as

ever. I’m not worried, but the nice thing about all of this is if we have

to try again, it’ll be a hell of a lot of fun.”

Tory pushed up on her elbow and traced the outline of Reese’s

mouth. Outside the window, the sun had climbed high in the sky. They

weren’t going to sleep again. She had work waiting in the office. And

ever since Reese took over as chief, she went in before the day shift

started, no matter how late she’d worked the night before. The day was

upon them, but right now, right this moment, she could pretend that

time was all theirs. She kissed Reese. “You make me feel like the most

cherished woman in the world. I don’t think I can tell you what that

means to me.”

Reese framed Tory’s face and ran her thumbs along Tory’s jaw.

The simple caress set Tory on fire.

“Before you,” Reese said, “a huge part of my life was just waiting

to happen, and I didn’t even know it. I thought I was complete. I thought

I was happy. I didn’t know there was a difference between satisfaction

and happiness. I didn’t know what it meant to be fulfilled. You gave me

Sheltering DuneS

• 179 •

happiness—you gave me a future that was filled with something other

than war and death. You gave me Reggie, and soon, you’ll give me

another gift that I’ll never have a way to thank you for.”

“You know there’s no thank you in love, right? You give, I give.

That’s how it works.”

“I think that might be one of those lessons I’m not gonna be very

good at learning.”

“We’ll work on it.” Tory slid on top of her and eased her thigh

between Reese’s legs. She wanted her. Not to make a baby, but to

celebrate who they were together. “I love you.”

Reese cupped her ass and pulled her tighter against her leg. The

strength in Reese’s hands, the ease with which Reese took control, sent

pleasure surging through her. Tory moaned, losing focus for a second.

“I love—”

Reese’s phone rang and Tory closed her eyes, pressing her forehead

against Reese’s shoulder. “Answer the damn thing.”

“Sorry.”

Tory chuckled. “Me too. Maybe we’ll still have time. If not,

later.”“Yeah. That’s a good thing about being married.” Reese slid her

hand under Tory’s hair and clasped her neck as she reached for her

phone with the other hand. “We’ll always have another time.”

Tory clung to that thought, needing to believe there would always

be another moment when Reese was completely hers.

v

“Conlon.”

“Sorry to call so early, Chief. This is Detective Lieutenant Rebecca

Frye—Philadelphia PD. I just spoke with Officer Tremont, and I believe

you’ve got a person of interest up there in a case we’re working.”

“That would be the Butler girl.”

“That’s right. We believe her to be Mia Gonzales, the girlfriend of

Hector Guzman, the present leader of MS-13 in our region. That would

make her the highest-ranking female in the organization.”

“That might explain why she doesn’t want anyone to know who

she is. You have warrants on her?”

“Not presently,” Frye said. “The Gang Control Unit doesn’t want

to move on any of the higher-ups until they’ve got something solid,

• 180 •

RAdCLY fFE

and getting something solid isn’t easy. This isn’t a ragtag street gang

that leaves a trail a mile wide every time they pull a job. They’re smart,

they’re organized, and their ranks are leak-proof.”

“I’ve heard that about them. Tough to break into. Tough to turn.”

“Pretty much impossible.”

“What’s your angle in all this? I take it you’re not GCU?”

“I head the High Profile Crimes Unit,” the lieutenant said. “We

interface with most other divisions—a lot of overlap.”

“Uh-huh.” Reese waited for an answer that actually was one. She

had nothing against interdepartmental cooperation, but her first priority,

her critical responsibility, was to her community. She needed to have all

the information available to her.

“For the past few months,” Frye said, “we’ve suspected La

Mara is setting up a cooperative operation with other organized crime

families.”

“So La Mara’s leaders can give you evidence on the players in this

other organization,” Reese said. “You want them all.”

“We want them.”

Frye’s voice was ice. History there.

“You want to get inside, then.”

“Us and just about every other division.” Frye paused. “I’d like to

send someone who knows the situation up there to get close to Butler,

find out what’s going on. Hopefully persuade her to help us.”

“If she’s the leader’s girlfriend,” Reese said, “she’s got to know

enough to put him away.”

“Probably him and all of his lieutenants. If we can get something

on him and squeeze him, we can get to the other players.”

“Let me see if I’m reading you,” Reese said. “You want to leave

her up here as bait and wait to see who comes for her?”

“If she won’t cooperate, that’s an option,” Frye said, “but I’m

hoping now that she has some distance we can get her to talk to us. I’m

not interested in getting the girl killed.”

“Good, because neither am I. She’s also a member of our

community. I don’t want our citizens or my officers getting caught in

the middle of a gang war if this all goes south.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more. Look, it’s your turf, and I’m

asking to come up and play on your field. I’ll send up one of my

detectives and you can name one of yours to head the team.”

Reese thought about it. Right now, Mica Butler was still in danger

from whoever had assaulted her the night before. The attack had to have

Sheltering DuneS

• 181 •

been a retrieval, because if they’d wanted her dead, there’d been plenty

of opportunity and easier ways to do it than a face-to-face physical

confrontation. Another attempt was likely, and if that failed, probably

another after that. Eventually they’d choose the simpler option and

eliminate her. Mica must know they were closing in, and she had only

two choices—run again, or stay and hope whoever was after her gave

up. If she ran, she’d never be free. If she stayed, she’d have a huge

target on her back. She just might opt for a frontal assault of her own.

Taking on La Mara alone sounded a lot like suicide. “Are you going to

tell her what’s going on?”

“How cooperative do you think she would be if we leveled with

her?”“I haven’t had a lot of personal interaction with her, but my sense

is that she’s smart and she probably ran because she wanted a different

kind of life.” Reese thought about Mica and Flynn. Allie thought they

were together. Making ties with people who mattered changed a person.

Altered priorities. Falling in love made the future look different. “If

you can offer her immunity in return for cooperation, I think she might

consider it.”

“I’ll follow your lead on this, Chief. No one’s had any luck turning

anyone in La Mara—at least no one who’s lived very long. That’s why

no one leaves. This girl’s not only smart, she’s brave.”

“Send your detective. Then we’ll talk to Mica Butler.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the cooperation. Detective Mitchell will be

on the next plane up there. Ought to get there in a couple of hours.”

“We’ll be waiting. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Appreciate it, Chief.”

“Good talking to you, Lieutenant.” Reese disconnected and

wrapped her arm around Tory’s shoulder. “I have to go in.”

“I heard. It sounded pretty serious.”

“It could be. Mica Butler is in a lot of trouble.”

Tory trailed her fingers back and forth over Reese’s chest. “The

assault last night, that was no random event, was it?”

“No, and I doubt very much it will be the last.”

“What can you do?”

“Wait for the detective from Philadelphia, and then bring Mica in

and talk to her.”

“Talk to her.” Tory shook her head. “Sounded like a lot more was

planned. Using her as bait seems dangerous.”

“I don’t like it much myself.”

• 182 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Mica could get hurt.”

Reese sighed. “Unfortunately, Mica isn’t completely innocent in

all of this. She’s a gang member, and not just a peripheral one at that.

She’s a high-ranking member of a vicious gang. I don’t know what she’s

done, I don’t know what she might be guilty of. I suspect they’re going

to squeeze her with whatever they have on her to get her to talk.”

“She’s just a girl, Reese.”

“Children are not incapable of violence or criminal behavior. I’ve

seen eleven-year-olds cut down soldiers with IEDs.”

“I know. And I know that the streets of some of our inner cities are

as violent as the places you fought in over there and just as cruel. But

we should be better than those places. You’ll look out for her, won’t

you?”“I will. Now she’s one of ours.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 183 •

chapter twenty-fOur

Allie paced in the small terminal of the Provincetown airport,

waiting for the eleven a.m. Cape Air flight from Boston.

When Reese had told her Philadelphia PD was sending up a detective

to work Mica’s case, she’d had the good sense to say, “Yes ma’am,” and

nothing else. But she didn’t like it. They didn’t need a hotshot guy from

the big city coming up to tell them how to do their jobs. The sheriff

made it clear they would cooperate, and in not quite so many words,

she’d also made it plain that Provincetown was their town, and it was

their job, no matter what other agencies might be involved, to keep the

town safe. Allie took that charge very seriously.

When she’d taken the job in Provincetown, it had been just that, a

job. When she’d first enrolled in the academy, she’d thought about going

back down south after she graduated, to Charlotte, where the weather

was better and the pace was slower and the people had a certain charm.

Then she’d met Bri. Back then, Bri’s relationship with Caroline had

been having some growing pains, and a short stay in Provincetown for

a shot at Bri had seemed like a good idea. She’d grown up since then,

and the things that mattered to her now were different. She had Ash, for

one thing. If she wanted to relocate, Ash would come, she knew that,

but this place was home to them both. These people were her people.

Reese was the best boss she could ever have—she could learn to be a

better cop from her, and she could grow. She belonged here. This was

her territory.

She walked to the glass doors that looked out on the single runway

as the small twin-engine plane descended and taxied around to stop in

front of the outdoor luggage racks. The ten-seater was usually full. She

waved to the pilot, who jumped down to open the doors and escort the

passengers off. The first few people to climb out she knew, locals. Then

the tourists, several looking a little pale and shaky. Probably their first

• 184 •

RAdCLY fFE

trip in a plane that rattled and shook and appeared to be skimming the

tops of the waves. None of them looked like cops.

The last person off was a lean guy in jeans, a black T-shirt, and

motorcycle boots. Slicked-back black hair, dark eyebrows, and a

swagger that said he knew he was hot. At first glance he looked a little

like Bri, but not when you really knew Bri. Sure, Bri looked just as

tough, just as sexy, but she still had a little tenderness along her jaw

that Allie knew from experience softened when she kissed. Bri’s soft

side wasn’t as well hidden as she liked people to think, but Allie would

never tell her that. Everyone needed their armor—young studs like Bri

maybe most of all.

Reese had said to pick Detective Dellon Mitchell up in plain

clothes, which had seemed odd but she didn’t question the chief, not

on this detail for sure. She still had the lead, but things were getting

complicated fast, and she didn’t want to get pushed aside—especially

not for bucking the boss’s orders.

Detective Mitchell, ’cause that’s who this guy had to be, grabbed a

canvas duffel and headed to the door. Their eyes met through the glass

and Allie smiled. Well now. Detective Mitchell wasn’t all he wanted

people to think either. He was good, really good, and she doubted

anyone who lived anywhere in the world except Provincetown would

ever know. Another time, another life, and she would’ve wanted to

peel off Detective Mitchell’s armor and find out what was underneath.

She knew what was underneath his jeans, and she liked that idea too.

Interesting detective the Philadelphia PD had sent up.

Mitchell grabbed the door and pulled it open, and Allie held out

her hand. “Allie Tre—”

Mitchell swung an arm around her waist, pulled her against his

tight hard body, and kissed her on the mouth. Allie had one second

to curb the reflex to plant her knee in his nuts and her fist in his face,

and then she went with the kiss. She bet Mitchell could kiss when he

wasn’t faking it. Even closed-mouthed, his lips were smooth as silk.

Allie pressed a palm to his chest and pushed away.

“Easy, boy.”

Mitchell grinned. Brilliant blue eyes swept over her. “Long time,

Allie.”“Yeah,” Allie said, aware of eyes on them. Curiosity was a fact of

life in a small town, and there’d be speculation with a greeting like that.

She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, and she hoped there was

a damn good reason for it. “What’s it been—three years?”

Sheltering DuneS

• 185 •

“More like five.”

“You got anything else?” Allie said, tilting her head at the single

carry-on.

“Nope. I travel light.”

Allie didn’t detect a weapon, but she knew there was one. Probably

his regulation piece was in his bag. “Okay. Let’s go, then.” They walked

as they talked, and in seconds, they were outside. “Nice entrance. Next

time give me a sign before you head off trail.”

“Sorry, I guess the bosses were still refining the game plan while I

was flying up here. Got a message just as I was leaving Boston that we

were supposed to have history.”

“History.”

“As in exes.”

“Great.” No warning about that little item. Reese probably tried

to call and couldn’t get Allie on her cell phone. She wasn’t in uniform

and didn’t have her radio, and the Race Point airport was a dead zone

half the time. Well, the plan was in motion now after that kiss. She had

driven her own car and pointed to the black Camaro. “That’s me.”

“Nice ride.”

“Uh-huh. Yours?”

“Harley.”

Allie snorted. “Figures.”

Mitchell slid into the front seat as Allie got behind the wheel.

“How so?”

“The boots.”

“They could be for show.”

Allie started the engine and turned to face him. “It’s no show,

though, is it?”

“How much do you know about La Mara?”

“I’ve been briefed.”

“Then you know just how tight we have to run this. You can call

me Mitch, by the way.”

“You always work this way? Undercover?” Allie backed out of the

lot and headed toward town.

“Depends on the case, who I’ll be talking to, how I’m most likely

to get people to talk to me. Mitch is a friendly guy.” Mitch smiled. “And

legit. I’m a member of the Front Street Kings. I manage backstage stuff

for the drag show when I can.”

“They tour up here?”

“They’d like to. The Boston guys have it kind of sewn up, but

• 186 •

RAdCLY fFE

you never know. I’ll be asking around about bookings as part of my

cover.”

“And when we talk to Mica?”

“I thought I’d get your take on that,” Mitch said, easing back in

the seat, wanting to appear laid back. He stretched his legs out into

the wheel well and draped an arm along the window. Officer Tremont

wasn’t at all sure about him, that was pretty clear. He didn’t blame her.

All cops were territorial, if they were any good. Right now, he was the

lone wolf in more ways than one. Tremont was a few years younger

than him, but she had the looks of an alpha female. Smart sharp eyes

in a face that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a magazine.

She was in plain clothes, but she was carrying like any good cop would

be under the circumstances, and her weapon rode easy on her hip. No

doubt she knew how to use it. He wasn’t packing anything except his

dick at the moment, and as soon as he could get to his duffel, he’d have

his weapon on too. But he understood the rules. He was on Tremont’s

turf, and he needed to show her the appropriate respect. “I’d like to give

Mitch a chance to be seen around town with you in a friendly fashion.

Establish my cover right away.”

“When we talk to Mica, she needs to know you’re Philadelphia

PD. You ought to meet her that way.”

“That works for me. Once Mitch gets settled in a room somewhere,

I can call you and meet you at the department more formally.”

“I think that will work. Even if Mica bumps into Mitch in town

after and makes you, she’s not going to blow your cover. Why would

she? She doesn’t gain anything by putting a cop’s life in danger or by

even letting anyone know she’s talking to one.”

“That’s what I thought too.” He glanced out the window, trying to

get his bearings. Bradford Street.

“You ever been here before?”

“A long time ago, when I was…in college.” Actually, Dell had

come up with another cadet when they’d had a three-day furlough.

They’d been looking for a place to have sex where they wouldn’t risk

being discovered. They hadn’t seen much of the town, they’d been

too busy discovering each other. In the long run, their caution hadn’t

helped. But none of that mattered now. She wasn’t in the army. She was

a cop, she had Sandy, and that was everything she’d ever wanted.

Allie crossed Bradford and turned down Commercial. “A few

people just saw me pick you up, though.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 187 •

Mitch grinned. “We’ve got that covered. Remember, I’m an ex-

lover.”“Huh. I don’t know how believable that’s gonna be.” Tremont

smiled, a smile that suggested Mitch would’ve been lucky to ever have

gotten over on her.

He laughed. “If anyone asks, you can always say I didn’t measure

up.” “I have a feeling you would, but I can work with that.” Tremont

parked. “That story might just be believable. I guess we’ll find out,

because I’m taking you to breakfast at Café Heaven. A lot of townies

eat there, and trust me, there will be questions. And talk.”

“Good. Go ahead and let them know what a jerk I was to let you

get away.” He didn’t doubt for a second she’d left a string of worn-

out women behind her. She was too hot not to have broken a lot of

hearts. No ring. He wasn’t wearing his either. He didn’t when he was

undercover. He thought about Sandy, how good she looked in uniform.

How great she looked out of it. He thought about the send-off she’d

given him early that morning after the lieutenant had called and said

she had a job for Mitch. Sandy liked to make sure Mitch knew where

he belonged, seeing as he often had to get close to women when he was

undercover. He didn’t mind her staking her claim—he liked knowing

the rules, liked knowing where the line was. “Unless you think it would

be more credible for me to come crawling back. I’m willing to play if

you are.”

“Sorry, everybody in town knows I’ve got a girl. And you know,

she’s got a temper.”

Mitch laughed. The line between him and the beautiful officer

Tremont was really clear. Good to know. “I’ll be just the ex in town

fronting for the Kings, then. Work for you?”

“Fine. Let’s go have some breakfast and really give the town

something to talk about. Then I’ll take you to your room—where are

you staying?”

“Nowhere yet.”

“I can recommend a place. It’s crowded this week, but they’ll find

you something for me.”

“Good enough.”

“When you’re settled, you can send Detective Mitchell over to

meet the rest of the team, and we’ll have a talk with Mica Butler.”

v

• 188 •

RAdCLY fFE

Bri Parker leaned with her back against the wall in the chief’s

office listening to Allie lay out the game plan for convincing Mica

Butler to provide evidence against Hector Guzman. Dellon Mitchell, in

an open-collared white shirt and black jeans, sat relaxed and confident-

looking next to Allie in a chair facing Reese, occasionally adding some

new intel about Mica or MS-13.

Bri was only half-listening. Allie had run the case by her earlier

that morning to make sure she wasn’t overlooking anything. She and

Allie graduated from the academy at the same time, but she’d had a lot

more field experience working with Carter on a big case not long ago.

So this was Allie’s shot. This case meant a lot to her for a lot of reasons.

It was her first lead, and Flynn was mixed up in it to her eyebrows. So

Bri didn’t mind riding shotgun on this one for Allie, but she wasn’t

about to take the backseat behind this detective from Philadelphia.

Mitchell knew her stuff, that wasn’t the problem. Bri didn’t even mind

that Mitchell was a little cocky and a lot good-looking. She just minded

somebody else getting between her and Allie. Until Reese started

assigning them different partners to give them more experience, they’d

been together, and they were still a good team. She could give Allie all

the backup she needed.

“Anything to add, Parker?” the chief asked.

Bri resisted the urge to straighten to attention. She didn’t want

to look like a rookie in front of the detective. “What do we do if she

lawyers up?”

“Good question,” Reese said. “If that happens, we have to go with

it. Then,” she looked at Detective Mitchell, “it may be necessary to

bring charges in order to assure her cooperation.”

“We could threaten that,” Mitchell said, “but I don’t think we have

anything that would stick in the long run. We know what Hector has

done, but we can’t prove it. She has to know about his illegal activities,

but we can’t prove that either.”

Allie said, “But if she thinks you’ve got more than you really do,

that could be persuasive.”

“True,” Mitchell said. “But she’ll be a better witness if she’s not

hostile. If she comes over to our side voluntarily.”

Bri said, “What about Flynn? Maybe Flynn could talk her into

it.” “I don’t think—” Allie said.

“Who’s Flynn?” Mitchell asked.

“A woman Mica has been seeing.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 189 •

“Romantically? That’s good to know. Definitely something we

might be able to use.”

“If we have to,” Allie said sharply.

“Of course,” Mitchell said smoothly. “It’s always best to leave

civilians out of it if we can.”

“Anything else?” Reese asked, looking at Allie.

“No ma’am.”

Reese nodded. “Bring her in quietly. We don’t want to send up a

flag to whoever might be watching her.”

Bri said, “Allie and I could pick her up in plain clothes. People

around Flynn’s place know us both. We’re friends of hers. If we bring a

cruiser, we might as well take out an ad.”

“Good idea. Can we take your SUV, Chief?” Ali asked. Reese

nodded and Allie looked at Mitchell. “You’ll want to stay here.”

“No problem.”

Bri pushed away from the wall and Allie joined her.

“Let’s go change into street clothes,” Allie said, “and then let’s go

get her.”

v

Mica tensed at the sound of footsteps outside the partially open

bedroom window. Two people. Not trying to be real quiet, but not

announcing their approach either. She slid away from Flynn and pushed

back the covers. That morning she’d collected her clothes and piled

them by the bed, as she’d been doing since she’d left North Philadelphia.

She couldn’t run very far naked. Careful not to wake Flynn, she leaned

over and grabbed her jeans. If she could get the window open quickly

enough—

A knock sounded on the door. Two sharp raps. She relaxed a

fraction but kept dressing. Hector’s men would not knock. Beside her,

Flynn sat up.

“I’ll get it.” Flynn scooped up a pair of sweats and stepped into

them.The knock came again.

“Look first.” Mica pulled her pants up and yanked her T-shirt over

her head. “If you don’t know them, don’t open the door.”

Flynn hesitated, a shirt in her hand. “What will they look like?”

Mica shrugged. “Probably Hispanic, unless he’s recruited some

associates up here. And they won’t necessarily be men. Look, Fly—”

• 190 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Stay here,” Flynn said quietly, buttoning the shirt. “If I don’t

know them, you’ll hear me say I’m busy and to come back later. Don’t

go anywhere, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just be careful.”

Flynn kissed her. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Sure.” Mica waited until Flynn disappeared into the living room

to ease up the window. She didn’t want to go through. If she did, she

knew she’d never come back. If she stayed, Flynn was likely to get

hurt. She swung a leg over the sill.

Sheltering DuneS

• 191 •

chapter twenty-five

Flynn surveyed the empty room and the open window. A cold,

sick feeling seeped through her stomach.

Allie said from behind her, “She couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll

pick her up.”

“I’ll call it in,” Bri said.

“No,” Flynn said quickly. “She doesn’t have anything with her

except what’s she’s wearing. She’s got to go back to her room. Let me

go after her. Let me talk to her.”

“What is it going to take for you to get the picture?” Allie said

sharply. “She’s running, Flynn. She ran here, she faked her identity, and

she’s hidden her past. And now she’s running again.”

“She told me,” Flynn said quietly. “She told me who she is and

where’s she’s been. I know what she’s been through. She’s not who you

think.”

“Oh, come on.” Allie glanced at the bed. “Pillow talk? And you

believe her?”

“Yes, I believe her. Please, you can follow me if you want to, but

let me go after her. Let me talk to her. Were you planning on arresting

her?”Allie glanced at Bri, who shrugged. “Not at this time. We only

want to talk to her.”

“Then don’t treat her like a criminal.”

“She may be a criminal,” Allie said. “When someone runs, they’re

usually guilty. We know she’s part of a vicious gang. And she’s putting

you right in the middle of—”

“No,” Flynn said quietly, “no, she isn’t. I know what I’m doing.

You just have to trust me on that. And now I need to go if I’m going to

• 192 •

RAdCLY fFE

catch her. I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s had to leave somewhere

in a hurry, and she won’t need long to disappear.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Allie shook her head. “God, Flynn.

You’re worth so much more—”

“Allie, I appreciate how you feel about me. I really do.” She

touched her bare throat, still not used to being so exposed. “But the

collar doesn’t make me a saint. And it doesn’t make me infallible. I’ve

sinned.”

“Only you would see it that way,” Allie muttered. “All right. But

we’re coming with you. We’ll wait outside, but if she’s there, we can’t

let her leave. I’m sorry.”

“Flynn’s right, Allie,” Bri said quietly. “We need to soft-pedal this.

We don’t want to scare her off. We need her.”

“What are you talking about?” Flynn asked. Allie avoided her

gaze, and that could only mean Allie was bothered by whatever was

happening, but she didn’t want to admit it. She needed to find Mica now

more than ever. “What aren’t you telling me? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Allie said. “Let’s go.” As they walked through the

living room, Allie asked, “What about a weapon, Flynn? Do you think

she’s armed?”

Flynn hesitated. Her instinct was to say no, but she didn’t really

know. Mica was scared. She’d fought to survive and she would keep

on fighting, no matter what it took. “I don’t know. She might be. I’ve

never seen her with a weapon.” She stopped at the door. “But you have

to understand something. She’s not the evil you seek. That’s what she’s

running from.”

“If that’s true,” Allie said, “then she’ll be all right.”

Flynn climbed into the rear seat, wondering what she could say

to convince Mica to talk to the law. Mica hadn’t trusted her enough

to stay. She didn’t even care enough about her to say good-bye. Yes,

it hurt that Mica had run from her, but she understood why. Too bad

understanding never erased the pain.

v

Mica threw her clothes into the gym bag she’d been living out of

for the last six weeks and grabbed the cash she’d stashed in a box of

tampons. Dumb to think she could slow down, stay in one place. When

Esme hadn’t returned her last two calls, she should have known trouble

was coming. Dios, she hoped they hadn’t hurt Esme trying to track her.

Sheltering DuneS

• 193 •

Esme hadn’t done anything except encourage her to escape and give

her the wad of one-dollar bills she kept hidden for emergencies. Maybe

for her own escape one day. Mica’s hands shook. Someone had tracked

her here, to this town, to Flynn’s. This was close, way too close. Flynn

hadn’t sent a warning when she’d gone to the door, but Flynn wasn’t

street-smart. She thought she could reason with people. Make sense of

the world because she was good and saw good everywhere. So naïve.

So amazingly beautiful inside.

Mica just couldn’t take the chance that Flynn would end up trying

to handle Hector’s posse. If Hector’s men made it through the door and

she wasn’t there, Flynn would be safe. And sooner or later, it would

be them, or if Hector really wanted to make a statement, it would be

him. And he wouldn’t hesitate to cut down whoever stood between him

and her. She was as much his territory, as much his property, as the

guns he sold and the drugs he smuggled and the girls he traded. She’d

always known that, and at first she’d accepted it as the price she paid

for his protection. Now she would never be anyone’s property again.

Whatever she gave of herself would be on her own terms. She thought

of how she had given her body to Flynn—not just her body, but a piece

of her heart and part of her soul—with complete freedom. Flynn had

given her back the freedom to choose. She wondered what it would be

like to have a life with a woman like that. To live as she wanted and

to share that life with someone who valued her, who cared about her,

someone she could love—

Mica yanked the zipper closed on the bag. Someone else’s life she

was dreaming about.

She grabbed her wallet off the dresser and yanked open the door.

Flynn stood on the other side, her hand raised to knock.

“Last night was nice,” Mica said, preempting anything Flynn

might want to say. “But it’s done. You told me to tell you if it was just

one night. Well, it was a little more than that, but not much. I’ve got

other places to be.” When she tried to shoulder past, Flynn edged in

front of her and barred her way. She didn’t have much time, and Flynn,

for all her gentleness, was unbending. “You don’t want to get in my

way, Flynn.”

Flynn didn’t touch her, as if knowing that Mica would not tolerate

being restrained. “Allie and another officer were at the door. They

wanted to talk to you, Mica. Not arrest you, talk to you. If you go

willingly—”

Mica snorted. “Jesus, when are you going to grow up? You believed

• 194 •

RAdCLY fFE

what they said? That’s what they always say. Right before they put you

in a room and close the door and leave you there without anything to

drink or anything to eat or anyplace to piss. They leave you there until

the walls close in, and you’ll say anything and do anything just to be

treated like a human being again.” She shoved Flynn’s shoulder and

Flynn stepped aside, her hands still by her side.

“They’re outside, Mica. They’ll pick you up anyway,” Flynn

called as Mica hit the first stair down.

Mica spun around, fury raging through her. “You brought them

here? I trusted you.”

“I know. And I trust you. I know you told me the truth. I trust

you’re here and not in Philadelphia with him because you know what

you have to do. You know the right thing.”

Mica straightened, considering her options. Flynn was probably

telling the truth, inasmuch as she knew it. She couldn’t know what

being pulled in for “questioning” was like. Maybe they didn’t plan on

arresting her right now, but if they got her in a box and she couldn’t

bluff her way out, she might end up behind bars all the same. She had

her pay in her pocket—just short of a hundred dollars. She could get a

long ways on that if she could make it out of town. But she needed to

get up-Cape and had no way to do that without taking the bus. Even the

ferry wasn’t running anymore. She had no time and no way out. She’d

run to the end of the line.

She’d bluffed her way through all those years with Hector, and

he’d never known she loathed every touch, every glance, every minute

she spent with him. She could bluff her way through a couple of hours,

hell, a whole day of interrogation if that’s what it took. If they knew

anything, they’d be here to charge her, not talk.

She picked up her bag and started down the stairs. Flynn’s steps

echoed hers.

“Mica—”

She didn’t slow, didn’t look back. “There’s nothing you can say I

want to hear. Like I already told you, I don’t need a priest.”

v

Looking straight ahead and making sure her face was blank, Mica

walked out the front door. Her shoulders tightened when she saw the

cops. They weren’t hard to make, although they were both in street

clothes. She recognized the pretty one, Allie. The one who’d dated

Sheltering DuneS

• 195 •

Flynn. She flicked her gaze to the good-looking dude with her—tight

jeans, short-sleeved button-up black shirt, black boots. Small breasts,

lean hips. She knew plenty of girls who would go for her. They pushed

away from the SUV they were leaning against and started toward her.

The only way to deal with cops was to surprise them and never let them

know you were scared. She crossed directly to them, meeting up a few

feet from their vehicle.

“I hear you’re looking for me,” Mica said.

“That’s right,” Allie said. “We’d like to talk to you.”

“Talk?”

“Just talk,” the black-haired one said. “My name is Bri Parker.

You remember Allie Tremont?”

Mica smirked. “We keep bumping into each other, so yeah, I know

who she is.”

“We’d like you to come to the sheriff’s department with us,”

Parker said. “We want to talk to you about Philadelphia.”

“And if I don’t?” Mica said, thinking fast. Philadelphia. So they

knew who she was. If they knew that, then they knew almost everything.

But they hadn’t come to arrest her. So they didn’t have much. “I’m kind

of busy right now.”

“It’s a free country,” Allie said. “And you know your rights

without us needing to tell you.” She spread her hands in a See? I’m

being friendly and reasonable gesture. “But like I said earlier, someone

tried for you once. There’s another girl who looks a lot like you lying

in intensive care in Hyannis. I think they thought she was you. They

almost killed her. Next time, they might not miss.”

“If I’m not here, then I don’t have to worry about that, do I?”

“Probably not,” Allie said. “You can disappear again, for a while.

But you know they’re going to look for you. And who do you think

they’re going to ask first?”

Heat scorched through Mica’s chest. There was a reason she didn’t

get close to people. Caring about people made you vulnerable, because

they could be used against you. She’d spent years under Hector’s

thumb, under his goddamn hot, sweaty, cruel body to keep herself

and her family alive. He’d promised that her little sister would not get

passed around when she came of age and La Mara recruited her, and

he’d sworn that her little brother would not have to kill or risk being

killed by MS-13. She’d sacrificed more than her pride and her body and

her conscience to assure he kept his word. She’d shut herself off from

caring about anyone. When you didn’t care, you couldn’t be hurt.

• 196 •

RAdCLY fFE

And now there was Flynn. Flynn, who refused to be frightened

when she should be. Flynn, who thought her faith and her crazy-ass

ideas of right and wrong were enough to make a difference. And maybe

they were. Maybe they were for most people, but not for her. Not in her

world. Faith, trust, love, and loyalty weren’t part of her world. Letting

Flynn get to her had made her forget the lessons she carried in her scars,

inside and out. She was probably going to pay in blood for that mistake,

but Flynn didn’t have to.

“Let’s go,” Mica said, gesturing to the SUV.

Allie quickly covered her surprise with a brisk nod and opened the

back door. “Bri—you drive.”

Mica was almost inside when Flynn called, “Wait. I’m coming.”

Mica slid into the back as Flynn crossed the street.

Allie blocked the door. “I’m sorry, Flynn, but you can’t come.”

Flynn leaned around Allie and peered into the backseat. “Mica?

Are you all right?”

Mica ignored her and stared at the back of Parker’s head. Flynn

didn’t move even when the cop told her to. Flynn never gave up. And

she’d just get herself in deeper if Mica didn’t find a way to shut her out.

She had to drive Flynn off. She thought of Flynn’s story of the girl she

couldn’t save. Flynn had been wrong to feel guilty, to feel responsible,

but she’d probably never believe it. Flynn only knew how to care.

Mica turned on the seat and looked out at Flynn. “You think you

know what’s best for people, when you don’t really see them at all. You

think the collar you’re still wearing, even if you pretend not to be, gives

you the right to interfere in other people’s lives. Your arrogance blinds

you. I don’t want to be the next one to get killed.” She grabbed the door

and pulled it closed. The heavy thud echoed the heaviness in her heart

at the flash of pain and sorrow in Flynn’s eyes.

Flynn jerked back from the SUV, pain lancing through her chest.

The next one to get killed. Your arrogance…Your arrogance…

“Sorry about that,” Allie said.

“No,” Flynn said. “She’s right.”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Allie said, “but I know

she’s wrong.” She gripped Flynn’s arm. “Look, I need to go. And you

need to let her go, Flynn.”

“Take care of her, Allie.”

“Damn you,” Allie muttered. “Damn you for asking that.” She

stalked around the front of the vehicle. “I will if I can.”

Flynn stood in the street as the SUV rolled away.

Sheltering DuneS

• 197 •

You need to let her go, Flynn.

Allie was right. Mica didn’t trust her. Mica didn’t want her. She

had made the same mistake with Mica she’d made with Debbie—she’d

fooled herself into believing her reality was theirs. Her blindness had

cost Debbie her life. Mica was right. They were all right. She needed

to let her go.

Sheltering DuneS

• 199 •

chapter twenty-Six

The sheriff’s department was a lot cozier than the lockups Mica

was accustomed to. When they brought her through a side

door into a short hallway, she smelled pizza and cleaning solution. Not

the usual piss and vomit stench that always seemed to hover in the

Philly station. The windowless interrogation room, what they called

the interview room, was just like the others she’d been in. Gunmetal

gray table bolted to the floor in the center of a bare-walled room, plain

metal chairs, big O-rings welded to the table for handcuffs. She wasn’t

wearing handcuffs, but she might as well have been. When Allie’d said,

“Have a seat. I’ll be back in a minute,” and walked out, the snap of the

lock slamming shut on the interrogation room door was as sharp as the

clang of the steel bars on a jail cell driving home. There was no door

handle on the inside. No way out.

Mica glanced up at the surveillance camera in the corner, smiled,

and sat back in her chair. Folding her arms over her chest, she stretched

out her legs and tilted her head back against the hard metal chair. The

ceiling had water stains on it that looked kind of like clouds if she

squinted. She tried to let her mind go blank, but she kept seeing Flynn’s

face—the hurt and sad acceptance. Like Flynn believed what she had

said. Mica flinched inside at the idea of hurting Flynn, who had to be

one of the only people in her life who’d stood up for her. Stood by

her. But she’d had to hurt her to keep her safe. All the same, she hated

herself a little for putting that wounded look in Flynn’s eyes.

Maybe someday, if she got out of this alive, she’d say she was

sorry. Right now she had to get her head in the game and try to piece

together what they might have on her. Unlike so many of the other La

Mara crew, male and female alike, she hadn’t wanted to make her name

• 200 •

RAdCLY fFE

by pulling some big job, or to gain a reputation by being arrested and

doing the time without giving anyone up. As Hector’s old lady, she

didn’t have to participate in anything she didn’t want to—unless Hector

wanted her with him. Then she couldn’t avoid getting pulled into his

action.Thinking back to what they could put on her, she only came up with

the night she’d been with Hector after some of his crew had hijacked a

truckload of electronics on an exit ramp off the New Jersey Turnpike.

She hadn’t been in on the heist and didn’t know many of the details,

only that he’d gone out in the Hummer to oversee the transfer and had

picked her up on the way back. He always wanted sex after he’d made

a big score. Liked to recount the events while she blew him and, if

she didn’t get him off right away, while he fucked her. Of course, he

wanted sex most of the time—when he was feeling good, when he was

feeling frustrated, when he was angry, when he needed to demonstrate

his authority. He especially liked having sex with his crew around, so

they could watch him dominate her.

That night the police had pulled them over right after he’d picked

her up, and took them in for questioning. She didn’t know anything

except what she’d overheard when Hector was deploying his lieutenants,

and that hadn’t been much. Hector didn’t talk about his business with

her, and when he tried, she changed the subject. She didn’t want to

know. She wasn’t naïve, she knew what he did. She knew evil when

in its presence, but she was smart enough to know that what she knew

could one day get her killed or put her in jail. She hadn’t told the cops

anything and after twelve hours, they’d let her go.

Now she balanced on the razor’s edge between death and being put

away. If Hector found out she was talking to the law, or even suspected

she had, he would kill her. If she didn’t go back to him, he would kill her.

And if she talked about what he’d done and the knowledge implicated

her, she could go to jail. If she tried for a plea bargain, Hector would kill

her before she ever had a chance to testify against him. The only way

out was to deny everything. If she didn’t cooperate, if she gave them

nothing and could keep running until she disappeared, she might live.

She’d be living in the shadows, a shadow herself, and might not have

much of a life, but breathing was always better than not. Maybe.

A lot of maybes.

So she waited. She figured they’d take at least an hour, maybe two

to soften her up, wait until she was anxious, hungry, and thirsty. Maybe

Sheltering DuneS

• 201 •

wait until her nerves had her bladder on edge and then force her to talk

while she was worried she might disgrace herself.

A sharp knock came on the door and Allie walked back in with

someone new. Another rangy, dark-haired stud, this one tougher around

the edges than the one Allie had been with before—carved cheekbones,

blocky jawline, intense sea-blue eyes. Cop’s eyes. Harder, more

experienced than the ones she’d been looking into recently.

“This is Detective Mitchell,” Allie said. “She’s got a story for

you.”Mitchell pulled out a chair opposite Mica, and Allie took up a post

by the door.

So they hadn’t made her wait, and now this new one was going to

take the lead. Huh. She would’ve figured Allie to be the one in charge.

Maybe this was her boss.

“I’m from Philadelphia,” Mitchell said. “I wanted to talk to you

about Hector.”

“Hector who? Lots of dudes named Hector.”

Mitchell smiled. “I guess that’s true. But I think we both know

who we’re talking about. And since I’m not here to run any games on

you, I’ll lay it out.”

And she did. Mitchell told her how they’d been watching Hector

and his crew and her. She showed her a picture of her with Hector

and a couple of his lieutenants. Mitchell said they knew about Hector’s

jobs, and they knew she was Hector’s girl, and Hector’s girl had to

know what Hector was doing. They didn’t want her, Mitchell said, they

wanted Hector. They wanted her to help them get him.

“If you know so much,” Mica said, staring at a stain on the ceiling

over Mitchell’s head that looked a little like roadkill, “why don’t you

just go get him.”

“I think you know the answer, but I’ll tell you anyway. Like I said,

no games. We know these things, but we don’t have the evidence. What

we need is someone like you, and a couple of others, to talk.”

“To turn, you mean.” Mica snorted and shook her head. “What

you want is to get a couple of us killed. If you know so much, you

know what happens when someone talks about MS-13. Sooner or later,

a week, a month, five years, they end up dead.”

“We know. We know that’s why you’re running. You want out. We

can help you.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

• 202 •

RAdCLY fFE

“You help us with information on Hector—how the gang

is structured, who his lieutenants are, who his contacts in other

organizations are, who might be willing to talk if the money is right.

You do that and we’ll get you a new identity.”

“A new identity?”

“WITSEC—the witness protection program. We’ll relocate you,

get you a job, get you twenty-four-hour protection for the rest of your

life.”“And where do you plan to put me? Kansas? Someplace where

I’ll live in a box wondering when he’ll track me down, answering to

some cop instead of Hector? How is that any different? At least with La

Mara, I’m free.”

Allie said softly, “Are you? Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because I choose to be here.”

“You’re here because you’re running for your life,” Allie said.

“Let us help you.”

“You’ll help me right into the ground. No deal.” Mica shook her

head. She’d never live to make it into WITSEC, and if she did, she’d

never see Flynn again. Never be able to set things right, if Flynn would

even talk to her.

“We will get the evidence on Hector,” Mitchell said, “and when

we do, you’ll go down with him. We’ll charge you as an accessory. You

don’t want that to happen. I don’t think you’re guilty.”

“If you wanted to arrest me, you would’ve done it already.” Mica

called their bluff, but she believed the detective. Hector had a world of

hurt coming his way and didn’t know it yet.

“Look,” Mitchell said, “there may be a way to work this so you

don’t have to testify. So Hector doesn’t know where the information is

coming from.”

“How?”

“Help us get the guy who’s after you. If we arrest him, with enough

evidence to put him away, he’s going to be in the same situation you

are. He’ll know if he goes to jail he’s a liability and Hector will kill

him. My guess is he’ll turn if we offer him protection. And if he’s one

of Hector’s lieutenants, he’s got to know what we need to know.”

“And what do I get out of this?”

Mitchell looked her right in the eye. “You get freedom. You walk

away.”

“And if you don’t get Hector, he’ll know it was me.”

“How is that any different than where you are now?” Allie said.

Sheltering DuneS

• 203 •

“At least this way, you have a shot at getting Hector out of the picture.

With him gone and someone else in his place, you’re not going to be so

important anymore. At least you won’t be at the top of their list.”

Mica thought about it. She’d been gone too long now. Even if

she wanted to go back, Hector wouldn’t be able to let her, not and still

save face. He was going to kill her; there was no going back. What they

offered was a slim possibility, but it was more than she had right now.

“How would it work?”

Mitchell sat forward. “We wire you, we’d watch you, we’re pretty

sure they know where you are now. These attacks are evidence of that.

It won’t take very long for them to make another move because they’ll

expect you to run exactly as you planned on doing. I’ll be with you

twenty-four seven. We’ll pick up whoever comes after you, squeeze

him, and you’re out of it. We’ll have enough evidence from the attack

on you to arrest him and charge him. Once that happens, he’ll have a

big target on his back and he’ll know it.”

“And I get immunity? Whatever Hector says about me, no

accessory charges?”

“That’s right. You’re out of it.”

“And if I say no?”

Mitchell shrugged. “Then we let a few people know that you

helped us anyway.”

Mica thought she saw Allie stiffen, as if she didn’t like what

Mitchell said. She didn’t think Mitchell was bluffing this time. If Hector

or any of his lieutenants thought she’d talked, they’d never stop coming

for her, whether Hector was in charge or not. “It doesn’t bother you to

sign my death warrant?”

“Not a bit,” Mitchell said.

v

Dell closed the door to the interrogation room, leaving Mia

Gonzales inside, and followed Allie down the hall to Reese Conlon’s

office. Bri Parker and Conlon waited inside, Parker in her usual position

against the wall and Conlon behind her desk. A video console showing

a blank blue screen sat on a triangular platform bolted into one corner

of the small room. Conlon and Parker had probably been watching the

interview. She sat in the same chair she’d been in that morning, next to

Allie, in front of Conlon’s desk.

“Nice interview,” Conlon said.

• 204 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Thanks,” Dell said.

“Pretty rough on her there at the end,” Parker said.

“La Mara members are used to being interrogated. It’s a rite of

passage for them to be picked up. I wanted to win her over, but she’d

never believe me if I went easy on her. She’s going to know if we’re

selling her a line of goods.”

“Are you planning on leaking word that she helped us if she

doesn’t agree?” Conlon asked.

“That would be up to you and the lieutenant.”

“And if it were your call?” Conlon asked quietly.

“Yes, I would,” Dell said instantly. “Mia Gonzales may be

innocent of any crime—technically. But she’s been part of La Mara for

years. They’ll come after her no matter what we do. We need to make

something happen before she disappears. And she will.”

Conlon nodded, neither approval nor disapproval showing in

her face. The lieutenant had briefed Dell on the sheriff. Conlon was

a combat vet and a seasoned law officer. Dell wasn’t fooled by the

small-town ambience and homey atmosphere in the station. These

were sharp officers. She hadn’t run an operation by herself before, and

she wasn’t too proud to learn from everyone. “What would you do?”

“I’d do the same.”

Next to her, Allie shifted slightly in her chair. Parker never moved

a muscle.

“Butler—Gonzales—is a target,” Conlon went on. “Her best

chance of getting out of this alive is for us to be all over her. So—

whatever it takes, we do.”

Parker stirred. “So, Mitchell, you’ll be undercover? How is that

going to work?”

“You didn’t get a chance to meet Mitch,” Dell said. “If Mia goes

for it, Mitch will hook up with her in the bar tonight and go home with

her.” “Girlfriend?” Bri said, looking surprised.

Dell grinned. “No, boyfriend.”

Parker shot Allie a glance. “How is that going to play with

Flynn?”

“Flynn’s out of it.” Allie turned to Dell. “What if Mica’s been

watched and they know about Flynn? Will they believe her hooking up

with Mitch?”

“A lot of the La Mara girls fool around with other girls,” Dell

Sheltering DuneS

• 205 •

said. “The guys don’t take it seriously—they think it’s hot. They’ll find

Mitch just as believable as Flynn.”

“That’s going to piss Hector off big-time if he gets wind of it,”

Allie said.

“Yeah,” Dell said. “It’ll turn up the heat on her a lot faster and

probably make them move on her right away. They might get careless.

That will work for us.”

A muscle along the edge of Allie’s jaw quivered. “You really are

likely to get her killed.”

“Not going to happen,” Dell said. “I don’t plan on letting her

out of my sight. In a few hours, Mitch is going to be her new main

man.”

v

Philadelphia—The Badlands

Hector muted the ballgame and picked up his cell phone.

“What?”

“Sorry, boss,” Carmen said. “We got a little problem.”

“Fuck,” Hector muttered. “Who do I have to kill?”

“We sent Ramirez up to look for Mia—”

“Yeah, I know. To that bumfuck place in Massachusetts, right?”

“Right.”

“So?”

“He thought he had her a couple days ago, but it turns out it was

just some girl that looked like her.”

“Dumb motherfucker. Did you pull him off?”

“He said he was sure she was there. Swore he’d seen her working

in some dyke bar.”

“Dyke bar, huh? I always thought she liked pussy, but she never

sampled any I know of.”

“He says she got tight with some other girl. He was already there,

so I figured he might as well check it out.”

“And? Is it her?”

“Ah—probably.”

Hector scratched his balls, getting more irritated by the second.

“Just spit it out, cocksucker.”

“Ramirez tried for the girl he thought was Mia—he didn’t get her.

• 206 •

RAdCLY fFE

She got away.” Carmen coughed. “She got his knife. She stuck him

with it.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me! Where the fuck is he?”

“He’s holed up somewhere up there. I think he’s afraid to come

back.”Hector smiled. Maybe Ramirez wasn’t as stupid as he thought.

“Did the cops make him?”

“He says no. He got away before they showed up, but they took

Mia with them. If she talks—”

“She knows better than that.” But he wasn’t sure. Mia had run

away, and he hadn’t expected that. She knew way too much to be left

alive, and if Ramirez had brought the cops down on her, she might

cave. “You head up there—you personally. I want this taken care of

right away, and this time for good. You feel me?”

“I hear you,” Carmen said.

Hector hung up, turned the game back on, and called out for

Angelita, one of the seasoned girls, to get her ass in there. Angelita had

a good mouth, but he was going to miss Mia.

Sheltering DuneS

• 207 •

chapter twenty-Seven

Flynn pulled into the lot of the rescue station half an hour after

Mica disappeared with Allie and Bri. The sheriff’s department

was across the street, and she couldn’t help but look over, wondering

if she shouldn’t just walk in and say that she wanted to talk to Mica. If

they wouldn’t let her see Mica, she could sit there and wait until Mica

was finished and they released her. They had to release her. Anything

else would be unthinkable. Mica might have lived with crime, might

have been part of a criminal social organization, but she wasn’t a

criminal. There must be some room in the justice system for those who

were neither perpetrators nor victims, but casualties of a world in which

power and violence ruled above law and humanity. A world where the

only currency with which to purchase survival was your soul.

She was amazed that Mica’s soul had survived after so many

years of subjugation, but Mica’s humanity was very much intact. She

had experienced Mica’s tenderness in every touch. Mica had sacrificed

herself for others, and that made her a hero in Flynn’s eyes. Mica was

so strong, but she wasn’t superhuman. She shouldn’t be alone now.

Flynn couldn’t abandon her, no matter what Mica had sa—

“You’re a little early, aren’t you?” Dave asked, walking out

through the open vehicle bay behind her.

Flynn caught herself in mid-step, realizing she’d been halfway

across the lot on her way to the sheriff’s department. Headed for Mica.

“Hi. I didn’t think you’d be here. You working a double?”

“Yeah, I need the overtime. Wife’s pregnant again.”

He said it like it was a problem, but his grin was huge.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks—so what are you doing here? Aren’t you on sick

leave?”

• 208 •

RAdCLY fFE

“I was going to ask you and Wheeler if you wanted some extra

shifts—if I need a little more time,” Flynn said. She could take a few

days off until her ribs were less tender, but she wasn’t sure that would

be enough time for her to figure out what she was doing with the rest

of her life.

“Sure, I could use the hours. Wheeler’s inside.” Dave put his hands

in his pockets and rocked slowly back and forth, his expression one that

said he was waiting for her to say something else.

What could she say? That she’d made a mistake, more than one,

and she kept repeating them? That she’d gone astray once again, when

it mattered more than ever? Mica’s words kept running through her

mind, tormenting her with their truth. The pain she’d been able to set

aside during the moments she was with Mica had come flooding back

when Mica turned away. The worst agony, though, came from knowing

she had learned nothing from Debbie’s death. She knew her weaknesses

and still she had not been able to change. She’d tried so hard to give

Mica the support she needed, but maybe Mica was right. Maybe all she

really wanted was to satisfy her own needs.

“You doing okay?” Dave asked.

Flynn jumped. “What? Oh. Yeah—I’m fine.”

“Well, you know, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“And Flynn,” Dave called as she started into the stationhouse, “I

know you’ve got mine. Never doubted it.”

Flynn stopped and turned. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

He waved her off, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, yeah. So take

care of business and get back here.”

“Will do.” Flynn found Wheeler, arranged for coverage, and

climbed into her car. She headed west on Route 6, figuring it would

take her three hours if traffic was light. As she drove, she thought about

telling Dave she’d be back. She wondered if she would. But then if she

didn’t return, where could she go where once she arrived, she wouldn’t

still be alone with her memories and her regrets? And if she left, she

would never see Mica again. The ache in her chest expanded until she

couldn’t take a full breath.

Time passed slowly. She kept thinking about Mica, wondering if

she was free yet. Wondering if Mica would stay around once Allie let

her go. She doubted it. La Mara had found Mica, there was no doubt

about that. That morning even she had half expected the knock on her

Sheltering DuneS

• 209 •

door to be followed by someone shouldering through and demanding

to know Mica’s whereabouts. Mica had to know she was no longer

safe, and she would do what she’d been doing since she’d escaped. She

would disappear again.

Flynn rolled down her window. Maybe the cool afternoon air

would soothe the aching wound that burned inside her when she

thought about never seeing Mica again. Mica’s spirit, her strength,

and her stubbornness filled Flynn with excitement and awe. She loved

being around her, loved watching her work, loved talking with her,

touching her. They’d only been apart for a few hours and she missed

her. Making love with her had been incredible. Passionate, tender,

exquisitely pleasurable. She’d loved stroking her and feeling her body

yield, hearing her break with pleasure. She’d loved giving herself,

unconditionally, and knowing that the woman who touched her wanted

her. She’d never had that with Evelyn, not without the pall of regret

tarnishing the joy.

Flynn drove through the small New England town along tree-

shrouded streets brilliant with fall color. Students walked in groups,

laughing and carefree. On a knoll above town she turned into the wide

gravel drive and made her way through the enormous scrolled iron

gates up to the stone mansion. She left her car in the turn-around and

went through the huge carved double wooden doors into the enormous

vaulted foyer, her footsteps tapping along the stone until she reached

the alcove where the receptionist waited.

“Reverend Edwards,” the sexton exclaimed, rising. His wireless

glasses sparkled in the sunlight slanting through the tall narrow window

behind him. His meticulously trimmed mustache slanted upward as he

smiled in greeting. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hello, Mr. Burns. I know it’s unexpected, but I’d like to speak to

the reverend.”

“Certainly. Certainly. I’ll call him right away. Would you like to

wait in the rectory?”

“That would be fine,” Flynn said.

He smiled at her uncertainly and she nodded her thanks before

turning away to make the familiar walk through the familiar halls to

the rectory adjoining the seminary building. Her brother was waiting

for her outside his office. He wore jeans and a plain black shirt and his

clerical collar. They looked so similar, except her neck was bare, and

she felt the absence even more acutely in his presence.

• 210 •

RAdCLY fFE

“Flynn.” Matthew kissed her cheek. “It’s good to see you. And

about time.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Flynn saw questions in his eyes, questions

that she’d avoided for too long. About Evelyn, and Debbie, and her. “I

should have come sooner.”

“You’re here now.” He took her arm as he had so many times

when as students they’d strolled and talked for hours. “How are you?”

“I’m afraid I’m lost.”

“Your faith or your path to it?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Let’s see if we can sort that out. Shall we walk outside?” Matthew

said. “It’s so beautiful, and you’ve given me the perfect excuse to avoid

the budget I’m supposed to be reviewing.”

“I’m sorry to arrive with no warning.”

“Don’t be. I’ve missed you. We all have.”

She doubted Evelyn missed her. But Matthew didn’t know about

their relationship. She’d ended it as soon as she’d realized Evelyn was

seeing them both, and she saw no reason to tell her brother about the

past affair if his wife didn’t. “I’ve missed you too.”

The rolling hills of the seminary grounds were still green, although

the maples and oaks were dropping their leaves like swatches of blazing

confetti. The fall air was crisp, cooler and sharper than on the Cape. She

missed the warm scent of the sea already. “I haven’t lost my faith, but I

can’t seem to see past myself to its lessons.”

Her brother smiled. “Maybe you just need to see yourself, and the

rest will be clear.”

“I’m afraid I see myself too well.”

“Flynn,” he said gently, stopping to sit on a stone bench overlooking

the town, “what happened to Debbie was a terrible, terrible tragedy.

We all feel it, and in some ways, we are all responsible. You weren’t

the only person who could have changed her mind. You weren’t the

only person who might have influenced her, who might have given

her support. Yes”—he held up his hand—“I know, you counseled her.

That’s an enormous responsibility, no matter what the circumstances,

but so much more so when we counsel the young, who sometimes are

so isolated and feel so alone.”

“If I’d been giving her what she needed,” Flynn said, “she would

have come to me when she thought she had no options. She would have

talked to me about what she was going to do.”

“You know that isn’t usually what happens, not when someone

Sheltering DuneS

• 211 •

has truly made up their mind. They almost never tell us. She wasn’t

making a plea for help. She had already made her choice.”

“I can’t accept her choice,” Flynn said, her throat burning with

months of unshed tears.

“Of course you can’t. Who could? Maybe the reason you feel so

lost is you’ve forgotten that we are given free will, the opportunity

to make our own choices, even when our choices are wrong or self-

destructive. As hard as it is to accept, Debbie chose her path.”

Flynn looked past her brother to the church and the cross at the top

of the belfry, the symbols of their faith. Her belief that every individual

had a choice, that nothing in life was completely predetermined, was

fundamental to her faith. For if that were not so, there would be no

purpose in ministering. Her failure had been in forgetting that ultimately,

everyone chose their own path, and all she could do was help them

see what those paths might be. She sighed. “Someone told me recently

that my arrogance prevented me from seeing others’ reality. How can I

minister if all I can see is my own belief?”

“This person who told you that, did she know about Debbie?”

“Yes, she did.”

“She’s hard on you. Why is that?”

Flynn pictured Mica in the back of the police car, imprisoned and

alone. Remembered the man in the alley and the knife at Mica’s throat.

Goose bumps broke out over her flesh. Mica was in danger and she had

known it. Mica wanted her gone, and she had said exactly what she

knew would drive Flynn away. “She wanted me out of her life.”

“The two of you—you have an intimate relationship?”

“Yes.” Flynn smiled at an image of an exhausted and sated Mica

tumbling into her arms after they’d made love. The tight fist in her chest

relaxed. “I’m in love with her.”

“How does she feel about you?”

“I don’t know.” Flynn paused. “No, that’s not true. She’s talked to

me, told me things that I know she’s kept hidden from others. I know

she cares.”

“Then why did she want to drive you away? Why did she

deliberately hurt you?”

“Someone is trying to kill her.”

His expression never changed as he folded his hands in his lap

and crossed his ankle over his opposite knee, as if he were settling

in for a long, friendly conversation. “I think you better start at the

beginning.”

• 212 •

RAdCLY fFE

So she did, and the more she told him of Mica, the more she knew

what she had to do.

v

When Mica hurried past Mitch on her way to the ice machine

with an empty ice bucket, he leaned across the bar and caught her arm.

She pivoted and shot him a glare. She hated being handled by anyone.

Stabbing pain shot through her. She didn’t mind when Flynn touched

her. She liked it. She didn’t want to think about Flynn. She didn’t want

to keep watching the door. She’d accomplished what she’d wanted.

Flynn was gone. She yanked her arm out of Mitch’s grasp. “What?”

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Mitch said quietly. “And besides that,

you’re snarling at me. You’re supposed to think I’m the hottest thing

on the planet.”

Mica forced herself to smile, although she thought if anyone

looked closely they’d be able to tell she was snarling. Mitch did look

good, and maybe if she’d been into guys with smoky eyes and sensuous

mouths and teasing bulges in their crotches, she’d be smiling at him

for real. But when she looked at him, nothing stirred inside her, not

the way she’d come alive when she’d looked at Flynn. And now when

she thought of Flynn, she just hurt. “I don’t fool around when I’m

working.”

“Just pretend to like me a little bit.” Mitch leaned over and caught

her hand, tugged her against the bar, and kissed her.

She hadn’t expected it, and because she knew him, she hadn’t been

on guard. His mouth was soft and warm and for an instant, she compared

the kiss to Flynn’s. When Flynn kissed her, even the very first time, she

felt a connection that she didn’t feel now. Flynn’s lips had been electric

against hers. For the sake of the show they were supposed to be putting

on, she forced herself not to jerk away, but let him slide his mouth over

hers for another minute. When the backs of his fingers glanced over the

outer curve of her breast, she figured they’d given everyone enough of

a look. She bit his lip and he pulled back, laughing.

“Hey,” he complained, loud enough for everyone to know he liked

it. “Save it until later, baby,” she said, also making sure she was

heard.He dropped back on his stool, looking pleased. “I’ve got plenty

left for later.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 213 •

She snorted and spun away. She took one step and stopped, her

heart rocketing into her throat.

Flynn stood at the end of the bar, her mouth set in a tight angry

line. Mica was so used to Flynn being calm and cool no matter what

was happening, the flare of anger in her eyes was as exciting as it was

ominous.

“We might have a problem,” Mica said softly.

Mitch swiveled and followed her gaze. “I take it that’s your

girl?”“Was. Was my girl.”

“I don’t think she agrees with you.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 215 •

chapter twenty-eight

Flynn’s skin flashed hot and cold in dizzying waves. She didn’t

know the guy who was manhandling Mica, and she didn’t care

who he was. All she wanted was for him to stop touching her. When

Mica kissed him, there was something off in the way she held her body,

in the way she kept her hands away from him, even though his were

all over her. Mica didn’t want to kiss him, and Flynn didn’t want her to

either. When they broke apart and Mica turned from the stranger, the

expression on her face was not one of pleasure. Maybe anyone else who

happened to be watching would have thought so, but Flynn knew better.

She knew what Mica looked like when she wanted to be touched, when

she wanted to be kissed. Right now, Mica’s mouth was smiling, but her

eyes were hard with suppressed wrath.

Flynn strode toward the dark-haired stranger, who watched her

warily without the slightest hint of uneasiness. He was cocky. He didn’t

look like one of Hector’s guys, but then how would she know? Anyone

could be one of Hector’s guys. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care. She’d

had enough. Time to put a stop to this.

Mica came around the bar so quickly, Flynn had barely made it

halfway before Mica blocked her way.

“Flynn,” Mica said, intercepting her, “you need to get out of

here.”“Who is that?” Flynn didn’t recognize her own voice. Low and

cold and hard. She wasn’t sure she recognized herself. The day had been

too long and filled with too many hard memories and too much pain.

Too much sorrow. Her existence, her core, was built on forgiveness, on

the belief that any wrong could be set right, any soul redeemed, but she

didn’t feel forgiving right now. She didn’t care about understanding.

She hurt inside and she had no clue as to how to erase the pain.

• 216 •

RAdCLY fFE

Mica grasped her arm, bare skin to bare skin, and the heat of Mica’s

flesh washed through her. A wave of hope followed, as if redemption

were at hand. Flynn looked down at Mica’s fingers curled around her

forearm, smaller and more fragile seeming than her own, but strong.

Mica was trembling, only she was so good at hiding her fear Flynn

doubted anyone else would know.

“Who is he?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mica said, her voice tight and urgent. “You

need to go.”

“No.”

Mica’s grip tightened, and she dragged Flynn away from the bar

into the shadows next to the ice machine. She pushed Flynn against

the wall and planted both palms against Flynn’s shoulders, pinning her

there. “You listen to me,” Mica said, fury riding every word. “If I’d

wanted you here, I would have asked you to come. You’re going to get

your stupid self killed, and if that happens, you’re going to kill me. You

understand? If you care at all about me, you’ll go away.”

Flynn grasped Mica’s wrists and raised both hands to her mouth.

She kissed Mica’s palms and folded Mica’s hands inside her own. “I’m

not leaving you. I love you.”

Mica went as still as a statue, her eyes widening. “Oh my God,

Flynn. No. You’re crazy.”

“I’m not.” Flynn smiled as calm suffused her. The terrible unrest

and uncertainty that had been eating away at her dissolved. “I’m totally

sane. I love you. And I don’t want that guy touching you.”

Mica leaned against her, fitting into all the waiting places in

Flynn’s soul. “He’s a cop. I’m not in any danger, but you are. Please. I

don’t want you hurt.”

“Why was he kissing you?”

Mica growled and shook her head as if Flynn’s head were made of

stone. “Are you not hearing me? It doesn’t matter. It’s not real.”

“What are you doing with him, then? Are you waiting for them

to come? Is that it?” Flynn cupped Mica’s chin and searched her eyes.

Mica didn’t lie to her, and the truth was plain to see. “I’m not letting

you do this.”

“Keep your voice down,” Mica said.

“Mica—”

“Damn it!” As if she’d totally lost patience, Mica plastered her

mouth to Flynn’s.

Flynn’s anger fractured like mist in the sunlight. Mica’s kiss was

Sheltering DuneS

• 217 •

the softest, warmest, most exciting sensation Flynn had ever known.

She wrapped her arms around Mica’s waist and pulled her in tight. She

needed Mica everywhere, over her and inside her—filling her up. She

opened her mouth and drew Mica’s kiss inside, making a silent plea for

her to stay.

Mica pulled back first. “Now I want you to pretend you’re really

pissed off at me and storm out of here. And stay out of sight until this

is over.”

“What will you be doing?”

“Acting normally, if you’d ever let me. Mitch will—”

“Mitch—that’s his name?”

“Will you forget about him?” Mica hissed.

“Do you promise you won’t disappear?”

Mica tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. She wouldn’t lie and

she didn’t answer.

“If you don’t promise me,” Flynn said reasonably, thinking it only

fair to be open about her intentions, “I’m going to plant my ass on one

of those bar stools and stay here until you leave. Mitch or no Mitch.”

“All right, all right, I promise. I’ll call you. Now go away.”

Flynn feathered her fingers through Mica’s hair and kissed her,

softly, imprinting her spicy taste and the tangy scent of her. She cupped

her face. “I don’t know if I can pretend to be angry at you.”

“Think about Mitch kissing me again—more than once. Does that

work for you?”

“I swear,” Flynn said dangerously, “if he does that again while I’m

watching, I’m going to—”

Mica smiled. “Baby, I love it when you’re jealous, but you’re no

match for him. And he’s no competition for you.” Mica backed away

and said, loudly, “I’m over your attitude, Flynn. I’ll date anybody I

want.”“Then I’m done. I don’t share.” Flynn spun around and strode

directly to the door and didn’t slow until she was outside. If she looked

back even once, she wasn’t going to be able to leave her. Mica was

playing a dangerous game, and the police were taking advantage of her

need to be free, even if it was Mica’s choice. Mica’s choice. Wasn’t that

what she and Matthew had talked about just that afternoon? The only

true freedom was the freedom to choose, and she had to accept that.

Accept that she could make a difference, but ultimately, she was not

responsible for the choices of others, even those she loved.

Her heart ached. Letting Mica do what she had to do was so hard.

• 218 •

RAdCLY fFE

So hard when she had so much to lose. If they hurt Mica, if she lost her,

she wouldn’t survive, no matter how strong her faith. She slowed when

she reached the street, uncertain of where to go. Home? Her apartment

was only a set of empty rooms and the bed where Mica had helped her

find the way back to herself. The memories of Mica in her arms would

drive her crazy. There was only one place she could go. She started

walking.

v

Reese bounced Reggie on her knee, trying to avoid the fallout as

Reggie practiced eating SpaghettiO’s with a spoon. When Reggie tired

of trying to get the slippery circles into her mouth with the utensil,

she helped the process along with both hands. The scatter landed on

Reese’s shirtfront and the leg of her pants. With her free hand, Reese

forked the salad her mother had made into her mouth.

“You could put her in the high chair,” Jean said.

“I know,” Reese said to her mother’s partner, “but I don’t see her

at dinnertime all that much, and I like holding her.” She dodged a flying

tomato-covered ring and grinned as it landed somewhere behind her on

the floor.

“She’s getting better at it,” Kate observed.

“I think that’s a statement only a grandmother could make,” Reese

said, laughing. Her cell phone rang and she put down her fork to dig it

out of her pocket. “Conlon.”

“Reese?” Tory said.

“Hi, baby. I’m over at—”

“I’ve got a Hispanic male in my clinic with an obvious stab wound

in his shoulder. He says it happened—”

“Who else is there with you?” Reese signaled her mother to take

the baby. Kate scooped Reggie up and carried her around to the other

side of the table, watching Reese anxiously.

“Nita is here, and Randy. We’ve got a full house, Reese.”

“Okay. You don’t want to alert him that anything is wrong.” Reese

grabbed her keys and hurried to the hall closet where she’d left her gun

belt and weapon. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Less. Four minutes,

Tor.”“All right—I’ll get the patients out—”

“No.” Reese raced down the narrow irregular stone walkway from

her mother’s small harborside bungalow to the street. “Just tell him

Sheltering DuneS

• 219 •

you’re going to get some supplies together. That you’ll be right back.

Act calmly. If you see Nita, tell her to lock herself in the treatment

room with whatever patient she’s seeing. Then you do the same in your

office.”

“What about all the patients in the waiting area?”

“You have to leave them there. If you try to get them outside,

you’re going to alert him that something is wrong. They’ll be in more

danger then.” She yanked open the door of her SUV. “He ought to be

pretty comfortable with a few minutes’ wait, and I’ll be there soon.

What room is he in?”

“Two.”

“All right, I’ll come in the back.” She started the engine and pulled

out. “He’ll probably be calmer if I stay in there with him. Just carry

on as normal.”

“No,” Reese said. “Tory, don’t go back in there.”

“Darling, I’ve got twenty people in my waiting room. I can’t risk

him getting spooked and taking them hostage. I’ll be fine. Just come

and pick him up.”

“Damn it, Tory—” Reese swerved around a double-parked car,

turned onto a one-way heading the wrong way toward Bradford, and

stomped on the gas. The line went dead. She hit speed dial for the

station.

“Sheriff’s depar—”

“This is Conlon. I need backup at Tory’s clinic. No lights, no siren,

and no one goes in without my say-so. Have them block the parking

lot and set up a perimeter three blocks in every direction.” She swung

onto a street paralleling the rear of Tory’s clinic. “Suspect is inside the

building, possibly armed, definitely dangerous. I’m going in. No one

enters until I radio all clear. Put a unit on the back door. Have you got

this?”Gladys Martin said calmly, “Yes, Sheriff. One unit on the parking

lot, another at the back door, and a three-block perimeter. Calling

now.”“Thanks.”

“Be careful, Sheriff.”

Reese disconnected and careened to the curb. The dashboard clock

read a minute to go on her estimate. She parked, jumped out, and cut

through several backyards to approach the rear of the clinic through the

small stand of trees that ringed the building. Everything looked quiet.

• 220 •

RAdCLY fFE

She drew her weapon, eased inside through the back door, and slipped

down the hallway that bisected the treatment area. Closed doors on

either side led to the equipment room and small pharmacy. Tory’s office

door was open. The treatment room doors were both shut. Nita was

probably still in room one with her patient. Carefully, quietly, Reese

sidled along the wall to treatment room two. The door was slightly ajar.

Smart, Tory. Very smart. She put her shoulder against the wall and toed

the door open another inch so she could see inside.

A youngish male sat on the treatment table, shirtless, his left

shoulder partially visible. A two-inch laceration surrounded by beefy red

tissue oozed pus. Tory stood a few feet away at the end of the treatment

table, arranging instruments on a stainless steel tray. His black hair was

matted to his neck with sweat and his face was tomato-red, as if he had

a fever. He gripped the edges of the treatment table, his fingers opening

and closing convulsively. He seemed to be jittering. She wondered if

he was high on drugs, or just high from fever and stress. She raised her

weapon, pushed the door the rest of the way open with her foot, and

slid into the room.

“Police. Down on the floor. Do it now. On the floor, hands over

your head. Do it now.” He glanced at her wild-eyed, jumped down

from the table, and pivoted toward Tory. Tory jumped back, her eyes

registering her fear.

“Take another step,” Reese said clearly and calmly, “and I’ll drop

you where you stand.”

“I got no weapon,” he said, but he wasn’t getting down on the

floor. He was facing Tory, partially blocking her from Reese’s view.

“I don’t care. Get down on the floor or you’re dead.”

He hesitated, but he must have heard in her voice that she wasn’t

bluffing. He dropped to his knees, then went face-down and spread his

hands out over his head.

“Hands out to your sides. Now.” Reese crossed to him, knelt with

her knee on his near shoulder, holstered her weapon, and quickly cuffed

him. Once she had him secured, she radioed for backup. “Code four

here.”“This is Adam Charlie one,” Bri answered. “We’re at the back

door.”“Clear the building.”

“Ten-four, Sheriff.”

“I’m going to check on the rest of the patients,” Tory said.

“Not yet,” Reese snapped. At Tory’s questioning look, she tamped

Sheltering DuneS

• 221 •

down the adrenaline surge that kept her temper burning hot. Tory was

fine. Safe. “Wait until Bri clears the place. In case he’s not alone.”

“All right.” Tory hesitated as if she were about to say something

else but left the room and the question unasked. Her eyes held worry

she couldn’t hide. Reese thought she knew why, but there was nothing

she could do about Tory’s concern. She wasn’t sorry. She’d do what she

had to do. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her family. Ever.

Sheltering DuneS

• 223 •

chapter twenty-nine

I’m about finished here,” Mica told Mitch as she stacked the last

case of beer in the cooler.

“Good.” Mitch tossed down the tequila he’d been nursing all

night, stood, and stretched. He gave her a lazy smile as he dragged his

hand through his hair and cocked his hips. His message was clear— I

know you want in my pants. “I’m ready.”

“Like, when aren’t you?” Mica grabbed her denim jacket and

came around the bar to join him. More than a few girls had eyed him

with interest the last few hours. His sexiness wasn’t an act—he was

hot. He wouldn’t have survived long around Hector—like all the guys,

Hector liked watching girls get it on, as long as the girls looked like

girls. The butch ones, they got the shit kicked out of them—and dudes

like Mitch? They better learn to fight or they were dead. The memories

chilled her, and she wondered if Mitch knew what he was risking by

playing this game with her. She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

“You okay?” Mitch murmured as he wrapped an arm around her

waist.“Yeah,” Mica said flatly. “Just great.”

At least Flynn was out of it. Mica still couldn’t believe Flynn

had come after her. Come after her and called her out over Mitch. Just

remembering the blaze in Flynn’s eyes when she’d said she didn’t want

Mitch touching her sent a current of excitement right to her clit. She’d

been a possession all her life, but for the very first time, she liked the

feeling of belonging to someone. As long as that someone was Flynn.

Flynn on fire melted her.

Everything in her life had come with a price tag, but Flynn asked

nothing of her, other than the truth. Funny, she’d spent her life with

people who wanted part of her, but no one had ever wanted that from

• 224 •

RAdCLY fFE

her before. Hector had been happy with her lies. Even her family, in

some ways, had been too. She didn’t blame them for looking the other

way, for pretending they didn’t know what she did, or why—but deep

down inside she wondered if anyone would ever really see her. And

then along came Flynn, gently and unyieldingly demanding she talk

to her, reveal her secrets, share her pain. Now that she’d been touched

with tenderness, held with desire, she couldn’t imagine living without

it. Couldn’t imagine living without Flynn.

“Oh fuck,” Mica whispered. Flynn. Dios, she wanted her. She…

“Oh no. No, no.”

Mitch stopped under the awning of a darkened storefront and

nuzzled her neck. “Something wrong?”

“No.”

Mitch kissed her and murmured teasing suggestions of what he

planned to do when they reached Mica’s apartment. His delivery was

smooth and practiced, with just enough humor in his tone for Mica to

know it was part of the act.

“I bet you get a lot of action this way,” Mica whispered in Mitch’s

ear. “You’d be surprised,” Mitch whispered back, pressing his lips to

a spot below Mica’s ear.

She let him hit on her, but she wasn’t giving anything back. “What

are you—about five-ten?”

“Mmm. Yeah.” Mitch kissed the corner of her mouth. “See anyone

on the streets you recognize?”

“No.” Mica looked past his shoulder. No one behind them but

tourists. “My couch is about five feet long. You’re going to be really

uncomfortable tonight.”

“I’m heartbroken.”

She bit the underside of his jaw. “You should be happy I’m not

really into this. You’d have more than a heart ache to worry about.”

He laughed. “I’ll suffer silently.”

She pulled away, shoved her hand in his back pocket, and tugged

him along the street. “You have a girlfriend?”

He snugged her close with an arm around her shoulders. “More

like a wife.”

“She good with this?”

“If she thought I was seriously trying to make it with you, she’d

cut off my nuts.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 225 •

Mica laughed and rested her head against Mitch’s shoulder. “I like

her.” “You would, I think.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s a cop.”

“Huh. I guess she’d have to be.”

“She wasn’t always.”

“Yeah?” Mica pointed up the street. “That’s my place. So what

was she? Your girl.”

Mitch didn’t usually talk about Sandy when he was on the job,

even though she’d been undercover with him a time or two. Maybe

hearing about Sandy would settle Mica down. She’d been jumpy and

wired since they’d left the Piper. Not that he could blame her, but he

needed her thinking. They’d both need to be sharp if they were going to

pull this off. “When I met her, she was working the streets.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t tell many people that, but he thought Mica

would get it. Where you came from didn’t define who you were. “She’s

tough. Strong. A lot like you.”

“Sounds like she might be smarter than me. Was some pimp

running her?”

Mitch tightened inside but he didn’t let anything show. “No. She

was independent.”

“That’s hard to do. I couldn’t manage it.”

“The two of you came from different places, but you both survived,

right? She got out. So did you.”

“I’m not out yet.” Mica stopped, turned into him, and kissed him.

She said against his mouth, “This is my place. Are you going to get me

out, cop?”

“Yeah,” Mitch said. “I am.”

“Then I guess you better come up and sleep on my couch.”

She took his hand and pulled him up the walk. Once inside, she

led him up a couple of flights of stairs and down a hall. She slowed

and pointed to a door with chipped brown paint, a tarnished number 4

hanging askew, and a sliver of light edging out underneath. “That’s it,

and I didn’t leave a light on.”

“Get behind me.” Mitch pulled Mica against the wall and inched

up to the door. “Sounds quiet. Unlock it, but don’t open it.”

Mica nodded, slid her key silently into the lock, and slowly turned

• 226 •

RAdCLY fFE

the tumblers. After Mica unlocked the door, Mitch motioned for her to

back up, slid his weapon from the holster at his back, and turned the

knob. He went in low, weapon first.

Flynn Edwards sat on the sofa across the room, a bottle of beer in

her hand and her feet up on the coffee table. She didn’t look surprised.

“Damn it, Flynn,” Mica snapped, crowding into the small

apartment behind Mitch. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“This is where I belong. You’re here.” Flynn stood and held out

her hand. “I’m Mica’s girlfriend. She tells me you’re a cop.”

Mitch checked the windows and noted the shades were pulled.

Flynn was smart, for someone who didn’t know much about what she

was up against. She returned the handshake. “I’m Mitch. I don’t know

if you know about what’s going on here, but—”

Flynn moved over next to Mica. “I gather you’re waiting for

whoever is after Mica to come back. You think you can keep her

safe?”“I know I can,” Mitch said. “But you’re kind of a complicating

factor.”

“I’m not going to get in the way,” Flynn said, “but I’m not going

to wait on the sidelines while you put Mica’s life in danger either.”

Mica jammed her hands on her hips. “Did you think maybe you

should ask me about any of this, Flynn?”

“Like you asked me?” Flynn’s eyes sparked. “Did you consider

I might have a stake in this? What it would do to me if something

happened to you?”

For the first time since Mitch had met her, Mica looked as if she

didn’t quite know how to play things. She touched Flynn’s face with

incredible tenderness.

“I never know what to do about you,” Mica whispered.

Flynn smiled and kissed her as if she were spun from glass.

“Haven’t you figured out I need you yet?”

Mica stepped into her, wrapped her arms around Flynn’s waist,

and rested her head against Flynn’s chest. “I don’t think so. But that’s

okay. I’m working on it.”

Mitch turned away, giving them privacy. Some things were too

personal to witness. He said, “Okay. Well, if you’re staying, here are

the rules—” His cell rang and he fished it out of his back pocket. No

one had that number except the other officers. “Mitchell.”

“This is Conlon. Where are you?”

“At Mica’s.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 227 •

“We just picked up the suspect who attacked Mica and Flynn

the other night. I ran his prints. His name is José Ramirez. You know

him?”“Yeah. He’s one of Hector’s musclemen. Works out of Jersey.”

“We’ll need Flynn and Mica to ID him as the assailant, but looks

like we may have what you need.”

“Definitely,” Mitch said. “He must have stayed around to finish

the job. Dumb of him. Where did you pick him up?”

Reese laughed, a sharp, dangerous laugh. “The idiot was stupid

enough to go to my wife’s clinic. Tory called me.”

“Any trouble?”

“Nope.” Reese sounded hard as stone.

“He’s lucky he gave in quietly.”

“Very lucky.”

“When do you want to run the lineup?”

“Let us interrogate him for a few hours, soften him up overnight.

Come morning we can have Flynn and Mica ID him. That will give us

more ammunition to go another round when we’ve worn him down

some.”

“Are you pulling off the detail on Mica?”

“What do you think?”

“I’d feel better if we keep up the surveillance. Maybe Ramirez

isn’t alone.”

“Then whoever is with him will know we’ve picked him up,”

Reese said. “If they see us pull off, they may get overconfident.”

“Anybody who’s watching knows I’m up here,” Mitch said.

“If they see you leave, that could work for us.”

“I’ll go out the front, head to my place, and circle back.”

“Sounds good,” Reese said.

“Where do you want me?”

“Bri is in the cruiser and Smith is outside across the street. Take

the back. Check in with Smith when you’re in position.”

“Okay.” Mitch glanced at Flynn’s protective, possessive expression

as she kept Mica tucked against her. “I’ll fill them in.”

“Them?”

“Flynn is here with Mica.”

Reese laughed. “Read her in on the plan, then.”

“I don’t think I have much choice about that.”

v

• 228 •

RAdCLY fFE

Reese hung up and observed the rest of Allie’s interview of José

Ramirez on the video feed. Allie hinted they had enough to put him away

and hadn’t offered him any deals, although he clearly had expected one.

He hadn’t lawyered up, which was good, but he probably would once

they began to squeeze him for information about Hector. The plan was

to keep him in the dark as long as they could before pushing him to roll

on Hector in exchange for a safe place beyond Hector’s reach.

“Good job,” Reese said when Allie came into her office. “You’ve

got him wondering what we have on him, but he’s not running scared.

He thinks he can wait us out and we’ll let him go.”

“Thanks,” Allie said, rolling the kinks out of her shoulders. “It’s a

lot harder than I thought. I really wanted to jump to the chase.”

“I know. But I think you’re pacing things well.”

“Should we get him dinner, do you think?”

Reese looked at her watch. Ten thirty. “It’s not that late. Give it

another hour or so.”

“Should I go another round tonight?”

“What’s your take?”

“I was thinking it would be better not to.”

“I agree. Let him sit.” Reese rose. “I’m heading home. You should

too.”“Okay.” Allie went to the door, then turned. “Thanks for letting

me handle the questioning.”

“You did a good job.”

“You sure you don’t need me on surveillance—”

“No, we’re covered. Mitchell is outside now.”

“I thought Mitch was staying with Mica tonight.”

Reese nodded. “Now that we have Ramirez, we’re pretending to

back off in case anyone else is watching her. Flynn is with Mica.”

“Oh.”

“You okay with the way things are playing out with Flynn?”

Allie stiffened. “You mean with Mica?”

Reese nodded.

“Yeah,” Allie said. “Mica really stepped up. The rest is Flynn’s

business.”

“Okay, then. See you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Sheriff. I’ll be ready.”

Reese left a few minutes later, stopped to get pizza, and got home

a little before eleven. Tory reclined on the couch, her feet up and a

medical journal propped open on her chest.

Sheltering DuneS

• 229 •

“Is the baby asleep?” Reese stowed her gun belt on the top shelf in

the closet and put the pizza on the counter separating the kitchen from

the dining area.

“I just heard her talking to her rabbit a few minutes ago. If you

want to see her, she’s probably still awake.”

Reese edged the journal out of the way with one finger and kissed

Tory. “Hi.”

Tory slid her hand around Reese’s neck and kissed her back. “Hi.

Are you all right?”

Reese sat on the coffee table. “Yeah. You?”

Tory sat up, dropped the journal on the floor, and eased her legs

across Reese’s lap. Reese automatically cupped the ball of her foot and

rubbed her arch.

“Mmm, that feels so good.” Tory sighed. “Are you very angry

with me about this afternoon?”

“You mean about you completely disregarding the instructions

of a law officer in the performance of her duty?” Reese switched to

massaging Tory’s heel.

“Yes. That.”

“I’m enormously pissed off,” Reese said.

“Why are you so calm?”

“I’m angry at my wife for putting herself in danger. I understand

why the doctor wanted to protect an office full of patients. I’m between

a rock and a hard place and I don’t know what to do about it.” Reese

took Tory’s hand and rubbed Tory’s knuckles against her cheek. “If

he’d so much as blinked in your direction, I would have killed him.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to put you in that position,

darling, but I didn’t have any choice.”

Reese couldn’t argue. “I guess that’s how you feel when I do

things that put me at risk. I don’t think I ever really appreciated how

that must make you feel.”

“Scared.”

“Yeah.” Reese remembered the icy flood of terror that gripped her

before her training kicked in and everything went cold and silent and

she just did what she had to do.

“Would you have really killed him?”

“Without a second’s hesitation.”

“I understand that too. I’d do the same to anyone who threatened

you.”Reese stood and pulled Tory up into her arms. She kissed her,

• 230 •

RAdCLY fFE

harder than usual, a little deeper, a little rougher. “Don’t do anything

like that again.”

Tory clenched her hand in Reese’s hair. “I can’t promise—not if

you’re in danger. You’re mine to protect.”

“I love you.”

“I love everything about the way you love me.” Tory crushed

her mouth to Reese’s. Her kiss was a claiming that banished the fear

from Reese’s soul. “I want you to make love to me. I want to feel you

everywhere. I want to know you’re safe.”

Reese lifted Tory into her arms. “Remember the first time I carried

you? I was shaking so much I was afraid I was going to drop you.”

“I remember you made me wet the second you picked me up.”

Reese skimmed her mouth over Tory’s and headed for the stairs.

“Are you wet now?”

“Enormously.” Tory wrapped her arms around Reese’s neck. “This

is better than the first time. Now take me to bed.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 231 •

chapter thirty

The door closed behind Mitch, and Mica turned to Flynn. “You

know, José Ramirez might not be the only one.”

Flynn rose and took Mica’s hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

Mica sighed but followed Flynn into the tiny bedroom that barely

fit a double bed and the boxes where she kept her clothes. Standing at

the foot of the bed, she had trouble concentrating on anything other

than Flynn, just inches away. Her brain said she needed to prepare for

Hector’s next move, but all she wanted, all she needed, was Flynn. She

wanted to kiss her, more and more with every passing second. When

she tried to step back so she could think, Flynn gripped her hand more

firmly. Exasperated with herself for being so easily distracted by Flynn’s

smile and the teasing glint in her eyes, she said, “Ignoring what’s going

on isn’t going to change anything.”

“I’m not ignoring anything.” Flynn framed Mica’s face and kissed

her. “I know you’re right. Someone else might come looking for you.

Maybe tonight. Maybe next week. Maybe a year from now.”

“Then you know this is crazy, right?”

“You’ve been saying that to me since the first day we met.” Flynn

rubbed her thumb over a faint bruise on Mica’s jaw. “This is the best

crazy I’ve ever known. I know something else too. We can’t predict the

future. We can only live the life we have, and the only life I want is the

one with you in it. I love you.”

I love you. The words sounded like a foreign language. Mica

remembered her mother saying them when she was small. Then the

men. Sometime before she was grown she’d stopped believing the

words meant anything more than I want something from you or I own

you. With Flynn, the words promised something completely different.

Something selfless and wonderful and terrifying. The first time Flynn

• 232 •

RAdCLY fFE

had said the words, she’d scarcely dared believe them. Now she wanted

to hear them again and again. What was happening to her? Where had

this gut-deep need for Flynn come from, and how would she ever live

without her?

Flynn waited, watching her, calm as always, but now Mica

recognized the fire beneath Flynn’s steady surface. Flynn burned, but

her fire ran deep. Flynn didn’t hide her need, and Mica couldn’t let her

burn alone. “I want you. I want you to love me, and I don’t even know

if that’s right.”

Flynn exhaled hard and fast, as if she’d been holding her breath

underwater. “How could it be wrong?”

“Because your loving me puts you in danger.” Mica leaned into

her, helpless not to touch her. She loved the way Flynn never yielded

but stood firm, absorbing all her uncertainty and fear. Guilt ate at her

joy, a searing pain in her middle. “It’s not fair, bringing my troubles

down on you. You could get hurt.”

“I’ll hurt a lot more if I lose you.”

Flynn’s honesty always stopped her heart. She could give her

nothing less. “What I said that night—about you hurting people—

that’s not true. I was afraid next time he’d hurt you. I wanted you to go

away.”

“I know,” Flynn said. “But I couldn’t. I was dying inside without

you.”Mica brushed the shadows under Flynn’s eyes, hating how worn

she looked. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

“Then let me love you.”

“You haven’t even asked me how I feel about you,” Mica said.

“My loving you doesn’t come with an escape clause, and there are

no contingencies. I’m not going to stop loving you even if you tell me

you don’t care about me.”

“Dios,” Mica muttered, wrapping her arms around Flynn’s waist.

“I’ll never say that.”

“Then I figure you’ll tell me what you need to when you want

to.” Flynn cupped Mica’s cheek. “But even if you never say a word,

I’ll know how you feel when you let me touch you, when you let me

inside you, when you let me see your heart.” Flynn kissed her again,

lingeringly, caressing her slowly, feathering her fingers over her breasts

until her skin was molten.

“Flynn,” Mica groaned, “I want you so much.” She slid both

hands into Flynn’s hair and pressed against her, needing to be closer

Sheltering DuneS

• 233 •

than she’d ever been with anyone before. “This thing I have for you

inside, it’s so huge, sometimes I can’t breathe.” She pressed her mouth

hard to Flynn’s, opening to her, slipping her tongue into the soft furnace

of Flynn’s mouth. She whimpered, trembling in Flynn’s arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Flynn eased Mica’s T-shirt from her jeans.

She worked the shirt up over Mica’s head and off, dropping it along

with her bra beside them on the floor. She fused her mouth to Mica’s

and began unbuttoning her own shirt, until they were both naked except

for their jeans, their breasts and stomachs gliding with the faint mist of

desire. Flynn wrapped her arms around Mica’s waist, her fingers laced

over the tattoo covering the base of Mica’s spine. “I need you, Mica.

You’ve given me something I’ve never had before.”

“What? What can I possibly give you?” Mica brushed her lips

over Flynn’s chest and kissed her breasts. Her tongue tingled as if a fine

electrical current ran beneath Flynn’s skin, and she sucked the salty

sweetness. The tangy taste of her stirred her hunger. She wanted to

devour her.

“Can’t think,” Flynn moaned and lifted Mica’s mouth from her

breast. She smiled shakily. “You gave me hope, Mica, when I had

none. Your will, your strength, your bravery restored my faith when

I was faltering.” Flynn slowly kissed her way down Mica’s body until

she knelt in front of her and opened her jeans with trembling fingers.

She kissed the base of Mica’s belly and pressed her cheek to Mica’s

stomach. “I was so lost until I found you.”

“Baby,” Mica whispered, holding Flynn’s face to her body. She

stroked Flynn’s cheek and her heart seized at the wetness on her

fingertips. “I love you, Flynn. I love you.”

“Then don’t make me leave you.” Flynn gazed up at Mica, her

face streaked with tears, her eyes completely undefended. “No matter

what comes, let me be with you.”

Mica grasped Flynn’s shoulders and dropped down in front of her.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

“I’ll want you forever.”

“Then that’s how long I’ll stay,” Mica whispered against Flynn’s

mouth.

Flynn shuddered under a wave of helpless longing. She needed

something beyond words, beyond even promises. She needed Mica—

heart, mind, and soul. She grasped Mica’s wrist and pressed Mica’s

fingers to her bare abdomen. “Please. I need to be yours, Mica.”

Mica gasped, and hunger consumed her fears. She pushed Flynn

• 234 •

RAdCLY fFE

against the bed and straddled her. Pushing one hand between them, she

worked Flynn’s jeans open while she kissed her. She watched Flynn’s

eyes glaze and her mouth tremble with need as she filled her. With

her mouth on Flynn’s, her heart to Flynn’s, she took her in long, deep

strokes. “You are mine. Always.”

v

Carmen approached Commercial Street from the beach and

made his way up the darkened alley one cautious step at a time. He’d

waited until midnight, when the people hurrying through the streets or

lingering on the water’s edge were not likely to take notice of a lone

man strolling on the shore. He hadn’t had much trouble convincing the

bouncer at the dyke bar that Mia was his cousin. After he’d told her he

was totally bummed that he’d just missed her and he’d lost the number

she’d e-mailed him, she’d given him Mia’s address. The twenty he’d

offered for her troubles probably helped her decide he was harmless.

She hadn’t even questioned why he didn’t call Mia “Mica,” the name

she used when telling him where Mia lived. Stupid cunt probably

thought Mia was Spanish for the fake name Mia was hiding behind.

The counterman in the pizza shop across the street from the bar had

set him in the right direction, and now he was looking at her apartment

building across the street.

He stopped abruptly in midstep. A shadowy figure materialized

just inside the mouth of the alley. Might be some guy taking a leak on

his way home, or he might be there for another reason. Carmen checked

his watch and waited five minutes. Whoever was standing there never

moved. He was watching Mia’s building too.

Ever so slowly, checking each footstep to be sure he didn’t step

on a discarded soda can or kick a loose stone and give himself away,

he made his way closer. Street noises from people walking by and the

occasional passing car camouflaged his approach. When the moon came

out from behind a bank of clouds, he detected the unmistakable outline

of a weapon on the guy’s hip. The law. Why was the law watching

Mia? He hoped the puta hadn’t gotten herself into some kind of trouble,

bringing the attention of the law down on all of them.

Hector should have tracked her down weeks ago and cut her to

pieces in front of the rest of the whores to remind them where they

belonged, and who they belonged to, and just what happened if they

forgot. As soon as he got past this cop, he’d take care of the problem,

Sheltering DuneS

• 235 •

and Hector would owe him for saving his rep. When the time came for

Hector to split the territory in the next expansion, he would be next

in line and no one would question his promotion. Not even Hector.

Slipping the sap from his back pocket, he took the last two steps quickly

and swung the leather-covered weight at the back of the cop’s head.

The cop went down without a sound. Carmen kept moving, shoving the

sap into his pocket as he strode across the street, climbed the few steps

to the porch, and pushed inside. Four mailboxes, three with names.

The one without a name would be hers. Amateurs always made that

mistake. Better a fake name than nothing at all. He touched the grip

of the Saturday Night Special he’d picked up before leaving the city.

Disposable, untraceable. One quick shot and his future was assured. He

walked down the narrow hall and started up the stairs to number four.

Sheltering DuneS

• 237 •

chapter thirty-One

Allie rolled over and looked at the clock for the third time in

an hour.

“What’s the matter?” Ash asked.

“I guess I’m just wound up. Can’t sleep.”

“Come here.” Ash pulled Allie down into the crook of her arm,

nestled Allie’s head against her shoulder, and slowly stroked her back.

“Big day, long night. Takes a while to come down.”

Allie pillowed her cheek against Ash’s breast and closed her eyes.

Her mind wouldn’t shut off. She kept thinking about José Ramirez and

his genuine confusion over some of the questions she had asked him.

“I don’t think the guy we picked up tonight was hanging around to go

after Mica again. I think he was trying to figure out how to get out of

town and got sicker before he could manage to leave. Why else would

he risk going to the clinic?”

“Because he’s a dumb fuck?”

“Oh, that’s him, but still. He’s street-smart. He had to know he

was taking a big risk seeking medical attention.”

“What did Tory say about his condition?”

“He’s not quite sick enough to need hospitalization, but he was

headed there without the antibiotics she pumped into him. She said he

would’ve felt pretty bad and probably wouldn’t have been able to drive

even if he’d had a car. So far there’s no sign of one. The only other way

off-Cape would be the bus, unless he was really dumb and tried the

airport.” Allie snuggled closer, sliding her thigh over Ash’s. “He might

have been afraid someone would realize there was something wrong

with him if he had to spend hours cooped up with a lot of people.”

“That all makes sense. So what’s bothering you?”

“I think us picking him up tonight was a lucky break. We were

• 238 •

RAdCLY fFE

looking for someone after Mica, and we know he was the one who

assaulted her in the alley. Feels too easy.”

“And?”

Allie shifted, the uneasy feeling prickling up her spine again.

“Maybe he’s not alone.”

“It’s been a few days since he tried for Mica, and you haven’t seen

any sign of a partner, have you?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.”

“Agreed. You haven’t aborted the plan, right? You’re still watching

her, still on the lookout for someone making a move against her?”

“Yeah,” Allie said. “We’re still watching her.”

Ash tugged Allie on top of her and cradled her ass in both hands.

“So what do you want to do differently?”

“Nothing, really.” Allie sighed and braced her arms on the bed.

“You think I’m obsessing, don’t you?”

Ash kissed her. “No, babe, you’re a good cop and your instincts

are telling you something’s off. I say listen to your gut.”

“Let me just run a quick status check.” Allie rolled away, switched

on the bedside lamp, and gripped her cell phone. “Sorry, I won’t be

long.”She hit the speed dial for Smith and waited out ten rings, the prickly

feeling getting sharper with each ring. Smith always answered by the

third ring, and when she got voice mail she hung up. She punched in

Mitchell’s number.

“Mitchell,” Dell said instantly.

“What’s going on there?”

“I’m still on Bradford, covering the back. Everything appears

quiet. Why?”

“I can’t raise Smith.”

“I just talked to him ten minutes ago. He’s due for another check-

in in twenty.”

“He wouldn’t leave his post.”

“Maybe his cell isn’t working. The reception up here sucks, I have

to tell you.”

“Maybe, but I don’t like it. I’m coming over.”

“All right. I’ll try Smith again. If I don’t get him, I’ll notify the

sheriff and go check on him.”

“I’ll be there in three minutes.” Allie jumped out of bed and threw

on clothes. She hated coincidences.

Sheltering DuneS

• 239 •

v

Mica sat up in bed, rousing Flynn from a light doze.

“What is it?” Flynn asked.

“I don’t know, probably nothing. I just thought I heard…” Mica

pressed her hand to the center of Flynn’s chest. “Stay here. You have

your phone?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll be right back.”

Mica, her figure illuminated by the glow of moonlight, jumped

out of bed and yanked on sweatpants. She slowly slid open the bedside

drawer and removed a long, thin object. The switchblade snapped open

like a shard of lightning cleaving the night sky. “Someone’s outside.”

Flynn followed, grabbed her shirt and pants off the floor, and threw

them on. Her cell was in her pants pocket. “I’m calling nine-one-one.”

Mica disappeared into the other room, and Flynn’s stomach

lurched. Mica had lived with the expectation of death so long she was

fearless. Flynn went after her, sliding around the corner into a room lit

nearly as bright as day by a blood moon. Flynn thumbed the digits on

her phone. “Mica?”

The front door swung open and a shadowy figure filled the

doorway.

“Flynn, get dow—”

Lightning flared. Thunder cracked. The air burned with the acrid

scent of fire and blood. Mica was gone.

“Mica!” Flynn rushed forward, tripped, and went down on her

knees. Lightning flashed again, red and hot this time, like a meteor

shooting in the dark. Flynn’s head rang with the roar of thunder.

A tinny voice said What is your emergency? What is your

emergency? Where is your location? What is…

Flynn couldn’t see Mica. She fumbled for a lamp. If she made

herself a target, she didn’t care. She needed to see Mica. Shouts came

from somewhere close by, then a bright light struck her in the face,

making her blink. Mica lay on her back, her lips parted slightly, her

eyes calm. Blood trickled in delicate lacey patterns from a dime-sized

hole just under her left breast. Not very much blood at all. Why was she

so pale, then?

“Flynn,” Mica gasped.

• 240 •

RAdCLY fFE

Flynn’s brain threatened to shut down. Agonizing fear ripped

through her. Mica shivered, her eyes starting to close.

“Mica!” Flynn’s shout rang hollowly, a solitary note echoing

inside a glass chamber.

“I’m sorry,” Mica breathed, her voice so faint it was as if she

spoke in a dream.

“No. You’re fine. You did fine.” Flynn saw herself moving like a

player on a ghostly stage. Her hand came down over the hole in Mica’s

chest. Warm, thick crimson liquid seeped between her fingers. Mica

looked so calm. So pale. The shouts grew louder, the words a tangle of

indecipherable syllables. “Help will be here soon. Baby, you’re going

to be all right.”

“Hurt?” A sliver of blood trickled from the corner of Mica’s

mouth.

“No. Mica, please. Please. Don’t talk. Just rest. You’ll be all

right.”“Sorry.” Mica smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Flynn choked. Her throat was so tight. “Sweetheart,

I love you.”

“Flynn,” Mica whispered, her lids fluttering.

“Yes, baby, I’m here.”

Figures raced by them. A voice yelled Clear. All Flynn saw was

Mica. Mica was everything.

“Think I need”—Mica’s smile faltered and she grasped Flynn’s

arm—“a priest.”

“I’m here,” Flynn murmured. “I’m here, baby.”

Flynn kept one palm pressed to the hole in Mica’s chest where

Mica’s blood pumped out with each heartbeat, crossed herself, and

signed the cross on Mica’s forehead. Mica’s eyes were all she saw,

open and trusting and beautiful. She put her faith in Mica’s eyes and

prayed.

“Almighty God, look on this your servant, lying in great

weakness…”

“EMTs are on their way.” Allie’s voice.

“…and comfort her with the promise of life everlasting…”

Dave said, “Got no pulse.”

“From all evil, from all sin, from all tribulation…”

“Move over.” Allie pressed both hands to the center of Mica’s

chest. “…by the Coming of the Holy Spirit…”

Sheltering DuneS

• 241 •

“We need more help.”

“That it may please you to deliver the soul of your servant…”

Reese said, “Bri’s bringing Tory.”

“…mercifully to pardon all her sins.”

“We need her STAT,” Dave shouted.

“Our Father, who art…”

“One…two…three…”

“…forgive us our trespasses…”

“Dave? Where are we?” Tory’s voice.

“…as we forgive those who trespass against us…”

“She’s bleeding out.”

“…lead us not into temptation…”

“We need blood.”

“…deliver us from evil…”

“I’m O-neg. Take mine.”

“…for Thine is the Kingdom, and the Power…”

“I’ve never done a battlefield transfusion.”

“…and the Glory, forever and ever…”

“I have.”

“Amen.” Flynn closed her eyes and held Mica’s hand to her lips.

Please, baby. Please don’t leave me.

Sheltering DuneS

• 243 •

chapter thirty-twO

The chapel held four wooden pews on either side of a narrow

central aisle. A plain wooden cross hung on the wall behind

the unadorned altar. The beige walls were muted in the dim glow of the

recessed lights in the arched ceiling.

Flynn knelt alone at the rail. Her solitude enclosed her so deeply,

she was only distantly aware of the passage of time. She didn’t turn

when she sensed a presence beside her.

“It’s Allie. I’ll go if you want.”

“No.” Flynn crossed herself and rose slowly. Her body seemed

foreign, a hollow shell that belonged to someone else. She sat in the

first pew. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Allie said, sitting next to Flynn,

“but I wasn’t sure if you should be alone.”

Flynn smiled softly, wondering if she would ever not be alone

again. “I’m glad you came. I didn’t have a chance to thank you.”

Allie’s eyes welled with tears. “God, Flynn, don’t. If I could have

done more…”

“You gave her your blood. That’s a tremendous gift.”

“I wish Tory had let me give another—”

Flynn took Allie’s hand. “You gave enough. Thank you.”

“Are you all right?” Allie laughed shakily. “Stupid question. Of

course you aren’t. Did you eat?”

“No. I’m not hungry.” Flynn looked around for a window. “Is it

morning?”

“Not yet. Can I do anything? I feel so useless.”

“Did you get him? Everything happened so fast and then…I never

thought about him.”

• 244 •

RAdCLY fFE

“We got him.”

“Is he alive?” She probably ought to be jubilant at the news, but

she was too cold and numb to feel anything at all.

“He didn’t put up much of a fight once he saw he was outgunned.

We apprehended him right outside Mica’s building.” Allie sounded

almost apologetic.

“Just a minute too late.”

“Yes,” Allie said. “I’m so sorry.”

Flynn squeezed Allie’s hand. “I didn’t mean it that way. You’re

not responsible. He is—do you know his name?”

“Carmen Alvarez. According to Dell, he’s one of La Mara’s top

lieutenants and Hector’s right hand. Hector is—”

“I know who he is. He’s the man Mica was with.”

“No,” Allie said. “He’s the man Mia Gonzales was with. Mica has

only ever been with you.”

“You’re right. I…she—” Flynn’s throat tightened and her eyes

burned. She hadn’t thought there were any tears left. “Sorry. I…

sorry.”“It’s okay.” Allie slid her arm around Flynn’s shoulders and pulled

her close. “Sometimes tears are all we have.”

v

“I thought you might want some coffee,” Dell said, handing Flynn

a paper cup from the vending machine.

“Thanks.” Steam rose from the surface of the muddy-looking

liquid, but Flynn’s fingers were cold.

Dell dropped into one of the nearby plastic chairs. “I let you down.

I let Mia—sorry, Mica down. I know sorry doesn’t help, but I am.”

“He was coming, him or someone else, whether you were here

or not.” Flynn put the coffee aside. “I’d like you to do something for

me.” “Anything, if I can do it, it’s yours.”

“Make this worth it. Make him tell you the things you need to

know to put an end to this, so there is never another Mica.”

“My lieutenant’s making arrangements with the sheriff for

transport right now. With what we have on him, he’s not getting out and

he knows it. He’ll talk to save his own skin.”

“That’s enough, then.”

“No, it isn’t. You asked me if I could keep her safe.” Dell’s voice

Sheltering DuneS

• 245 •

was rough with sleeplessness and remorse. “I told you I could, and I let

him get by us. I let him get to her.”

“You know,” Flynn said, replaying those moments for the

hundredth, for the thousandth, time, “another thirty seconds—a

minute, and you might have gotten him before he got to her.” Flynn

kept wondering if she’d reached out, if she’d pulled Mica back down

onto the bed, if she’d kept her from going into the other room—maybe

she could have kept her safe. “I was there and I didn’t stop her from

meeting him head-on. Mica never expected to be rescued. Not by you,

not by me. She wouldn’t let anyone fight for her.”

“Brave of her,” Dell said.

“Yes, brave. And selfless.”

“Maybe if she’d waited, I would’ve got there in time,” Dell said,

“but maybe he would’ve gotten both of you. She had to have been

thinking about that.”

“Oh, I know she was.” Flynn studied her hands. She’d washed

them, many times, but the blood was still just as visible to her as if it

still covered them. Mica’s blood. “It’s hard, isn’t it, when the ones we

love won’t let us protect them.”

“It’s hell,” Dell said.

v

Flynn’s eyes flew open at a touch on her shoulder. “Mica?”

“It’s Tory, Flynn.” Tory leaned down, her eyes liquid with

tenderness. “It’s time.”

Flynn pushed to her feet, her body stiff and protesting. Her chest

ached, her head throbbed with sleeplessness and pain. She followed

Tory through the eerily silent halls, where only the drone of the

machines broke the stillness. Outside the windows, the sky was black

and starless. Shadows followed them as they walked.

“Is there anything I can do?” Tory asked.

Flynn shook her head. “I never had a chance to thank you for what

you did.”

“I can’t take very much credit for it,” Tory said. “Allie took all the

risk, and without Reese’s directions, I doubt I would have been able to

do it. We all did it.”

“Mica told me once that she didn’t belong anywhere,” Flynn said.

“She was wrong.”

Tory gently took Flynn’s hand. “Yes, she was.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 247 •

chapter thirty-three

The cubicle was dark, lit only by the glowing faces of the

monitors and a single flat ceiling light set to low. The sheets

were very, very white. Mica’s dark hair stood out against the covers like

cinders on snow. Her eyes were closed, her arms extended, palms up by

her sides. Tubes ran from her arms, from underneath the sheets, from the

corner of her mouth. Not even the barest flicker of movement rippled

beneath her alabaster lids. She wasn’t asleep, she wasn’t dreaming. Her

body, her mind, perhaps her spirit, had drawn in on itself, a protective

reflex as she gathered her strength for the ultimate battle.

“I can get you a chair,” the nurse said.

“No, thank you,” Flynn said. “I’ll be fine.”

“You can stay as long as you like.”

Flynn nodded and took Mica’s hand. Her fingers were cool, dry,

motionless. Flynn knelt, and prayed for clarity.

v

She’d only ever been swimming once, when she was five, and

her mother and her mother’s then-boyfriend took her and her brother

and her baby sister to the beach in Atlantic City. The sand was too hot

and too stony and hurt her feet. The ocean was so big, the waves so

high, she’d been afraid to go into the water. Her mother’s boyfriend

had carried her on his shoulders, and she’d felt safe until he’d swung

her down and into the water, laughing, telling her she’d like it. The

salty water flooded her nose and her throat. She couldn’t breathe, she

couldn’t see, and the world became a frightening place. She’d reached

out for someone to save her and she’d found only more blackness. She

couldn’t hear, couldn’t move her arms and legs, couldn’t break free

• 248 •

RAdCLY fFE

of the crushing weight of the waves. Like now. She reached out for

something to hold on to, and warm, strong fingers closed around hers,

calming her, anchoring her. She held on tight and the fear swept away

with the tide.

v

Pulse racing, Flynn searched for any sign that Mica was aware.

She’d felt Mica’s fingers twitch, she was certain of it. Tory had

explained that the bullet had lacerated the left pulmonary artery and

Mica had nearly exsanguinated. Even the blood Allie had given her

right there on the floor of Mica’s apartment hadn’t been enough to keep

her blood pressure in a safe range. The surgery to repair her artery had

gone well, the surgeon had said, obviously pleased with himself. The

bullet had passed through her body from front to back and, other than

that one lethal laceration, had done no significant damage. Now that

the tear in the artery was repaired, he had said, she should recover very

quickly. If the rest of her recovered, that is. If the blood loss and the

hypotension hadn’t caused irreversible brain damage. The initial EEG

had been inconclusive, according to Tory. There was brain activity, but

disorganized and erratic. The abnormal function could have been due

to any number of things—the stress, the anesthesia, the shock to her

system. Or it might mean that Mica was gone. Flynn should prepare

herself for that, Tory had said.

Flynn told them they were wrong. Mica would never give up so

easily. Tory had nodded and said from what she knew of Mica, she

agreed. Tory had said Mica needed to know Flynn believed in her too.

“I’m here, baby,” Flynn said quietly. “You’re safe. Just concentrate

on getting better. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

v

Somewhere in the center of her chest, a fire burned. Every breath

scorched her lungs, and she wanted to flee from the pain. She’d been

running forever, it seemed. First from the life she seemed destined to

inherit, then from Hector, then from the men Hector sent. She was tired

of running. So very tired. She didn’t fear the water as much as she had

when she was small. She could let the cool comfort engulf her, carry her

away, put out the fire. If she just let go, stopped fighting. Went under.

Mica struggled against the seductive undertow that pulled her

Sheltering DuneS

• 249 •

farther and farther from shore. Without fire, there was no heat, without

heat, there was no life. She knew how to fight for what she wanted.

She knew how to fight for what she needed. She remembered soft lips,

strong hands, the protective curve of a warm body holding her, keeping

her safe. There was the fire. There was the passion. She held on to her

anchor and swam against the currents. Swam toward the flame.

v

“Mica,” Flynn said urgently. “Mica, I’m here, baby. Everything

is all right.”

Mica’s eyelids fluttered. Flynn leaned over and brushed her fingers

through Mica’s hair. “It’s all right. You’re in the hospital. You have a

breathing tube in and you can’t talk. I’m right here, everything is all

right.”Mica started to thrash, and all the bells and whistles and alarms

started blaring.

“You’re in the hospital, Mica,” Flynn said steadily, calmly. “You

are all right. I promise, I’m right here.”

Mica’s eyes flew open and her gaze fixed on Flynn. Flynn’s breath

caught, fearing to hope. Recognition flared in Mica’s eyes, and Flynn

smiled.

“Hello, baby. Welcome back.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 251 •

chapter thirty-fOur

Tory, weary from only a few hours’ sleep for the past several

nights, arrived home from her daily trip to the hospital in

Hyannis a little before seven p.m. Her spirits lightened at the sight of

Reese’s SUV in the drive. She parked and hurried inside. Reese, still

in uniform, sprawled on the sofa. Reggie played with Jedi on the floor

amidst a mountain of plastic blocks.

“Hi.” Tory kissed Reese and curled up next to her.

Reese wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “How are things?”

“No big changes, which is good at this stage. Any news?”

“I talked to Rebecca Frye this afternoon,” Reese said. “Alvarez

is looking at hard time in a maximum-security federal prison, and he’s

starting to see the big picture. Hector and the other La Mara leaders are

going to view him as a liability, and that does not say good things about

his life expectancy.”

“I thought one of La Mara’s honor badges was to do time without

giving anyone up.”

“That’s true,” Reese said, “but that mostly pertains to low-level

members who don’t know enough to be a threat to the leaders if they

talk. If someone like Alvarez, who knows a lot about the organization,

cuts a deal to shorten his time or to get moved out of the general prison

population, he could take down some important gang members.”

“Wouldn’t it make the La Mara members uneasy if one of them

was arrested and then ended up being killed in prison?”

Reese rubbed Tory’s back. “As long as nothing ties Hector or any

of La Mara’s leaders to the execution, a death in prison is just business

as usual. Rival gang members square off against each other all the time.

Being shivved in the shower is a routine occurrence.”

• 252 •

RAdCLY fFE

“So he’s got to think cutting a deal now is his best option.” Tory

edged closer on the sofa and wrapped her arm around Reese’s middle.

“If he doesn’t talk, he’ll never be able to prove that he hasn’t, and the

threat to the organization will be there as long as he’s in prison.”

“Which is going to be a damn long time,” Reese said grimly.

“Remember, he shot Mica and put Smith in the hospital.”

“I talked to the neurosurgeons today,” Tory said. “Smith’s edema

is subsiding and they don’t think there’ll be any need for surgery. He

may be out of work for a while, but he’s going to be fine.”

“That’s one message I’ll be happy to take to his wife,” Reese

said. “Do you think they’ll be able to shut Hector down?” Tory

unbuttoned the middle button on Reese’s shirt and slid her hand

inside.“Put his crew out of business completely? Doubtful. But while the

local gang is reorganizing and the leadership is chaotic, Rebecca’s team

will have a better chance of putting someone undercover.”

“It really is a long-term plan, isn’t it?”

Reese covered Tory’s hand and pressed Tory’s fingers to her

abdomen. “It’s a lot like a war. You know the endgame, but not how

long it will take to get there or how many battles you have to wage

before the last one.”

“What about Mica?”

“That’s going to be up to her,” Reese said. “There are not going to

be any easy choices, if and when she’s ready to make them.”

“She’s showing signs of improvement. Her scans are clear. She’s

got youth on her side.”

“Good,” Reese said. “She deserves a shot at freedom.”

“How about you, Sheriff? Are you going to be able to take a break

soon? You’ve been in the office or filling in on patrol for the better part

of a week.”

“Soon. I’ve recruited some officers from up-Cape for temporary

duty.”“Good,” Tory said, tracing the curve of Reese’s ribs with her

fingertips. “You’d better start storing up on sleep as soon as you can.”

Reese’s eyes darkened and she tilted Tory’s chin with a finger

beneath her jaw. “And why would that be?”

“Because I’m feeling decidedly pink these days.”

Reese grinned. “Are you sure?”

Tory nodded. “I told you it was a home run.”

Sheltering DuneS

• 253 •

“I love you.” Reese stroked Tory’s abdomen and kissed her.

“Both.”

Tory relaxed against her, knowing whatever was coming, she’d

have Reese to lean on and a lifetime to celebrate.

v

The face bending over her was familiar—wheat-blond hair, sharp

cheekbones, strong jaw. Compassion in the deep blue eyes. Something

was missing, something she needed. Mica blinked, tried to sit up, and

someone said, “Everything is all right. You’re going to be fine.”

The voice was wrong. She thrashed, trying to sit up.

“Mica, baby, it’s okay.”

Mica turned her head and the swirling anxiety in the center of her

chest subsided. This face she knew, deep down inside. These blue eyes

held love and tenderness. The voice was soothing and reassuring. She

swallowed, her throat burning. “Flynn?”

She knew this smile too, playful and sure.

“Hi.” Flynn folded Mica’s hand between hers and kissed each

knuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mica slowly swiveled her head until the other

face came into focus. Flynn, but not. “Who are you?”

“I’m Matthew, Flynn’s brother. Hello.”

He was handsome, but not as handsome as Flynn. The collar

around his throat was different too, but she had no trouble envisioning

that on Flynn. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m happy to,” he said.

She hadn’t thanked him for herself, but he probably knew that.

If he was anything like Flynn, he understood the meaning behind the

words. She wasn’t sure of all that had happened, but she knew where she

was, and what Carmen had done. Flynn would have needed someone.

“Did he hurt you?”Mica said, returning her gaze to Flynn.

“No.” Flynn sounded rusty and worn. “Just you. You surprised

him and after he…shot you, he took off.”

Mica swallowed. The nightmare wasn’t over. “He got away?”

“Oh no,” Flynn said quickly, and Mica’s dread evaporated. “They

got him.”

“Dead?”

“No, arrested.”

That might be better. Mica felt around her body—tape on her

• 254 •

RAdCLY fFE

chest, plastic tubes sticking out of her side and her arm and her leg.

Breathing hurt and her throat was raw. “How long have I been here?”

“Almost three days,” Flynn said. “You had surgery. They took the

breathing tube out last night, and you’ve been sleeping on and off since

then.”“How about you?”

Flynn stroked Mica’s hair. “I’m just fine, now.”

“You should go home, rest.”

“I will. In a little while.”

Mica squeezed Flynn’s hand. “Remember, you’re not supposed

to lie.”

Flynn grinned. “A little while is open to interpretation, so

technically, I’m not lying.”

On the other side of the bed, Matthew laughed. “I hope to talk

to you again, Mica, when you’re feeling better.” He waved to Flynn.

“Good luck with the new position.”

Mica’s stomach dropped. “What new position?”

“My brother spoke to the bishop. The church in town needs an

assistant priest. The job’s mine if I want it. I’d still keep my EMT post

too.”“Do you want to?”

Flynn rubbed her throat. “Yes, I do.”

“And do you get to wear that sexy collar?”

Flynn laughed. “Yes.”

“Then I’m all for it.” Mica loved the shy excitement in Flynn’s

face. Heat raced along her spine and her mind wandered to an image of

lying with Flynn, limbs entangled and supple flesh beneath her palms.

She wanted her, in her heart and in her body. “When can I get out of

here?”Flynn laughed quietly and stroked her arm. “A few days. A week.

You had a lot of surgery. The doctors tell me you’re going to be fine. A

hundred percent.”

“Good—can I…can I stay with you a while?”

“A while? How about forever?” Flynn kissed her hand. “Remember

the I love you part? That means we’re together, all the way…if you

want.”Mica’s breath stopped. A swell of expectation, so foreign, so

wonderful, flooded her. “What’s happening with Carmen?”

“Last I heard, he’s ninety-plus certain to testify against Hector.

That will put Hector and the others away. Dell—Detective Mitchell—

Sheltering DuneS

• 255 •

feels pretty certain once they start arresting the leaders, getting some

of the other members to turn informant will be easier. You’re going to

break that gang, Mica.”

“Until then,” Mica said, “I might not be so safe to be around.”

“I don’t want us to put our life on hold waiting for anything.”

“I don’t want you hurt,” Mica whispered.

“I won’t be.” Flynn leaned down and kissed her. “I just need

you.”“I need you too,” Mica whispered. “But what if—”

“Baby,” Flynn murmured, “we can figure it out when you’re

feeling a little stronger. Sheriff Conlon—Reese—has some ideas about

how to protect you.”

“Like what?”

“No one knows the name you’ve been using here,” Flynn said

slowly. “As far as Carmen, or Hector, knows, Mia Gonzales is dead.”

Mica’s chest tightened and she winced.

“What is it?” Flynn asked. “Does something hurt?”

Mica shook her head. “I can get behind letting everyone think

I’m dead, even my family—at least for now. They’ll be safer if Hector

thinks I’m dead. But I’m not going into that program.”

Flynn’s brows drew down. “What program? You mean witness

protection?”

“No way,” Mica said. She wasn’t leaving, not unless Flynn wanted

her to. Flynn was all that mattered.

Flynn rubbed Mica’s fingers against her cheek. “Damn right

you’re not going into witness protection. You’re not going anywhere at

all. You’re staying here with me, where you belong.”

The tightness in Mica’s chest eased. Flynn wanted her. Flynn

loved her, and she loved Flynn. She did belong somewhere, finally. “If

you’re here, that’s where I belong.”

About the Author

Radclyffe has written over thirty-five romance and romantic intrigue

novels, dozens of short stories, and, writing as L.L. Raand, has

authored a paranormal romance series, The Midnight Hunters.

She is an eight-time Lambda Literary Award finalist in romance,

mystery, and erotica—winning in both romance ( Distant Shores,

Silent Thunder) and erotica ( Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

edited with Stacia Seaman and In Deep Waters 2: Cruising the Strip

written with Karin Kallmaker). A member of the Saints and Sinners

Literary Hall of Fame, she is also a 2010 RWA / FF&P Prism award

winner for Secrets in the Stone. Her 2010 titles were finalists for

the Benjamin Franklin award ( Desire by Starlight), the ForeWord

Review Book of the Year award ( Trauma Alert and writing as LL

Raand, The Midnight Hunt), and the RWA Passionate Plume award

( The Midnight Hunt). She is also the president of Bold Strokes

Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBT publishing

companies.

Coming in March 2012: NIGHT HUNT,

Book Three in L.L. Raand’s Midnight Hunters series.

Lara, a dominant wolf Were and one of the elite centuri guards, has only

one mission—to protect the wolf Alpha, Sylvan Mir. When Lara makes

the ultimate sacrifice to save Sylvan, a Vampire detective saves her life

only to change it forever in ways no one can anticipate.

Sylvan, driven by primal instincts to protect her pregnant mate, grows

more powerful, and more deadly, than any Alpha Were in centuries.

While Sylvan rallies her allies, Vampire and human, to fight extremists,

radical groups, and members of their own Praetern coalition in a war

to preserve the autonomy of all Praetern species, Lara fights a private

battle with her own dark urges—a battle which, if lost, will make her a

more dangerous adversary than any Sylvan has ever faced.

Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

sheltering dunes by Radclyffe. The seventh in the award-winning

Provincetown Tales. The pasts, presents, and futures of three women

collide in a single moment that will alter all their lives forever. (978-1-

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Holy Rollers by Rob Byrnes. Partners in life and crime Grant Lambert

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History’s Passion: Stories of Sex Before Stonewall, edited by Richard

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Lucky Loser by Yolanda Wallace. Top tennis pros Sinjin Smythe and

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Mystery of The Tempest: A Fisher Key Adventure by Sam Cameron.

Twin brothers Denny and Steven Anderson love helping people and

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secrets of his own to keep. (978-1-60282-579-6)

Better Off Red: Vampire Sorority Sisters Book 1 by Rebekah

Weatherspoon. Every sorority has its secrets, and college freshman

Ginger Carmichael soon discovers that her pledge is more than a bond

of sisterhood—it’s a lifelong pact to serve six bloodthirsty demons with

a lot more than nutritional needs. (978-1-60282-574-1)

detours by Jeffrey Ricker. Joel Patterson is heading to Maine for his

mother’s funeral, and his high school friend Lincoln has invited himself

along on the ride—and into Joel’s bed—but when the ghost of Joel’s

mother joins the trip, the route is likely to be anything but straight.

(978-1-60282-577-2)

three days by L.T. Marie. In a town like Vegas where anything can

happen, Shawn and Dakota find that the stakes are love at all costs, and

it’s a gamble neither can afford to lose. (978-1-60282-569-7)

swimming to Chicago by David-Matthew Barnes. As the lives of the

adults around them unravel, high school students Alex and Robby form

an unbreakable bond, vowing to do anything to stay together—even if

it means leaving everything behind. (978-1-60282-572-7)

Hostage Moon by AJ Quinn. Hunter Roswell thought she had left her

past behind, until a serial killer begins stalking her. Can FBI profiler

Sara Wilder help her find her connection to the killer before he strikes

on blood moon? (978-1-60282-568-0)

Erotica Exotica: Tales of Magic, Sex, and the Supernatural, edited

by Richard Labonté. Today’s top gay erotica authors offer sexual thrills

and perverse arousal, spooky chills, and magical orgasms in these

stories exploring arcane mystery, supernatural seduction, and sex that

haunts in a manner both weird and wondrous. (978-1-60282-570-3)

Blue by Russ Gregory. Matt and Thatcher find themselves in the

crosshairs of a psychotic killer stalking gay men in the streets of Austin,

and only a 103-year-old nursing home resident holds the key to solving

the murders—but can she give up her secrets in time to save them?

(978-1-60282-571-0)

Balance of Forces: toujours Ici by Ali Vali. Immortal Kendal

Richoux’s life began during the reign of Egypt’s only female pharaoh,

and history has taught her the dangers of getting too close to anyone

who hasn’t harnessed the power of time, but as she prepares for the

most important battle of her long life, can she resist her attraction to

Piper Marmande? (978-1-60282-567-3)

Wings: subversive gay Angel erotica, edited by Todd Gregory. A

collection of powerfully written tales of passion and desire centered on

the aching beauty of angels. (978-1-60282-565-9)

Contemporary gay Romances by Felice Picano. This collection of

short fiction from legendary novelist and memoirist Felice Picano are

as different from any standard “romances” as you can get, but they will

linger in the mind and memory. (978-1-60282-639-7)

Pirate’s Fortune: supreme Constellations Book Four by Gun

Brooke. Set against the backdrop of war, captured mercenary Weiss

Kyakh is persuaded to work undercover with bio-android Madisyn

Pimm, which foils her plans to escape, but kindles unexpected love.

(978-1-60282-563-5)

Sex and Skateboards by Ashley Bartlett. Sex and skateboards and

surfing on the California coast. What more could anyone want? Alden

McKenna thinks that’s all she needs, until she meets Weston Duvall.

(978-1-60282-562-8)

Waiting in the Wings by Melissa Brayden. Jenna has spent her whole

life training for the stage, but the one thing she didn’t prepare for was

Adrienne. Is she ready to sacrifice what she’s worked so hard for in

exchange for a shot at something much deeper? (978-1-60282-561-1)

Suite Nineteen by Mel Bossa. Psychic Ben Lebeau moves into Shilts

Manor, where he meets seductive Lennox Van Kemp and his clan of

Métis—guardians of a spiritual conspiracy dating back to Christ. But

are Ben’s psychic abilities strong enough to save him? (978-1-60282-

564-2)

speaking Out: LgBtQ Youth stand up, edited by Steve Berman.

Inspiring stories written for and about LGBTQ teens of overcoming

adversity (against intolerance and homophobia) and experiencing life

after “coming out.” (978-1-60282-566-6)

Forbidden Passions by MJ Williamz. Passion burns hotter when it’s

forbidden, and the fire between Katie Prentiss and Corrine Staples in

antebellum Louisiana is raging out of control. (978-1-60282-641-0)

Harmony by Karis Walsh. When Brook Stanton meets a beautiful

musician who threatens the security of her conventional, predetermined

future, will she take a chance on finding the harmony only love creates?

(978-1-60282-237-5)

nightrise by Nell Stark and Trinity Tam. In the third book in the

everafter series, when Valentine Darrow loses her soul, Alexa must

cross continents to find a way to save her. (978-1-60282-238-2)

Men of the Mean Streets, edited by Greg Herren and J.M. Redmann.

Dark tales of amorality and criminality by some of the top authors of

gay mysteries. (978-1-60282-240-5)

Women of the Mean Streets, edited by J.M. Redmann and Greg

Herren. Murder, mayhem, sex, and danger—these are the stories of the

women who dare to tackle the mean streets. (978-1-60282-241-2)

Firestorm by Radclyffe. Firefighter paramedic Mallory “Ice” James

isn’t happy when the undisciplined Jac Russo joins her command, but

lust isn’t something either can control—and they soon discover ice

burns as fiercely as flame. (978-1-60282-232-0)

the Best defense by Carsen Taite. When socialite Aimee Howard hires

former homicide detective Skye Keaton to find her missing niece, she

vows not to mix business with pleasure, but she soon finds Skye hard to

resist. (978-1-60282-233-7)

After the Fall by Robin Summers. When the plague destroys most

of humanity, Taylor Stone thinks there’s nothing left to live for, until

she meets Kate, a woman who makes her realize love is still alive and

makes her dream of a future she thought was no longer possible. (978-

1-60282-234-4)

Accidents Never Happen by David-Matthew Barnes. From the

moment Albert and Joey meet by chance beneath a train track on a street

in Chicago, a domino effect is triggered, setting off a chain reaction of

murder and tragedy. (978-1-60282-235-1)

In Plain View, edited by Shane Allison. Best-selling gay erotica authors

create the stories of sex and desire modern readers crave. (978-1-60282-

236-8)

Table of Contents

chapter One

chapter twO

chapter three

chapter fOur

chapter five

chapter Six

chapter Seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fOurteen

chapter fifteen

chapter Sixteen

chapter Seventeen

chapter eighteen

chapter nineteen

chapter twenty

chapter twenty-One

chapter twenty-twO

chapter twenty-three

chapter twenty-fOur

chapter twenty-five

chapter twenty-Six

chapter twenty-Seven

chapter twenty-eight

chapter twenty-nine

chapter thirty

chapter thirty-One

chapter thirty-twO

chapter thirty-three

chapter thirty-fOur