Free Sinful Deception (Covert Affairs Book 3) by Skye Jordan

clothes on the ground.
    “I don’t—” she started.
    He jerked her head back, making her grimace in pain. “Don’t tell me you don’t know where he is.”
    She closed her eyes and swallowed. Something fierce came over her expression. “Tova Sorensen. Two-five-zero…” She said, then opened her eyes and stared directly into the attacker’s face. “Sugarman Lane, La Jolla.”
    Fucking A. All the way across town. It would take Marcus half an hour to get there.
    He stepped away from the computer, cupped his hand over his phone, and whispered, “Sorensen. Two-five-zero—”
    “Sugarman Lane,” the emergency operator filled in. “Got it. Units have been dispatched. Do they have weapons?”
    “Not that I can see, but—”
    “”I know where you are, bitch,” the attacker barked, making Tova flinch. “ Where is that cocksucker brother of yours?”
    She was crumpled on the floor, legs curled underneath her. One of her hands was clamped around the man’s wrist in her hair; the other grappled at the mattress for support. She was bleeding from somewhere on her head, her leg, and her foot. Her free hand slid between the mattress and the box spring, and Marcus’s mind darted back to the night she’d pulled a length of rope from beneath her bed. Another pulse of fear jerked through his heart.
    “That’s where you are.” She pulled out a gun—a fucking gun —and shoved it into the man’s stomach. “And it’s where you’re going to leave — right now —or I will shoot you.”
    Marcus’s heart skipped at least two full beats before banging hard and tripping into a crazy rhythm.
    “No…” he breathed, scraping a hand into his hair.
    The man attacking Tova released her head with a jerk. “What the fuck?”
    She was shaking, but her aim stayed solid. “Get the fuck out . Now .”
    “One weapon?” the operator asked.
    “Yes.” Marcus grabbed his keys from the coffee table, and in the seconds that followed, everything seemed to happen so damned fast.
    “Stupid bitch.” The yell came from the other man in the room, the one out of camera range. Something flew across the room. Tova cringed, lifting her arms to shield her head. A glass object hit her shoulder and bounced to the floor, shattering and smothering Tova’s scream. She fell off-balance as the second man entered the picture, bent, and grabbed her by the throat. “That’ll teach you to—”
    Pop.
    The gunshot echoed, stunning Marcus. The man’s scream of shock and pain rattled Marcus’s speakers. The attacker covered his stomach with both hands as he stumbled back, then fell on his ass. Red leaked through his fingers as he stared, still screaming. The first man backhanded Tova so hard, she flipped sideways. The gun hit the floor and slid across the wood.
    Marcus’s heart slammed to a stop. No, no, no. He pressed a fist to his mouth, unable to believe what he was watching.
    He forced his hand away to say into the phone, “Please tell me they’re close.”
    “ETA three minutes, Agent.”
    His stomach dropped. His eyes closed. Not close enough.
    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck .
    “That bitch shot me!” the victim yelled, voice filled with indignant shock. “She shot me.”
    “Get your stupid ass to the car,” the other one ordered without an ounce of concern.
    The injured man hauled himself up and limped out the door, holding his side and dripping a blood trail. The first man picked up the gun and turned it on Tova.
    Marcus had never been so fucking helpless.
    He did all he could do—he yelled at the guy. “Hey, fucker.”
    The man startled and glanced around the room.
    “You’re on camera, asshole. And the police are on their way. You’d better get out of that house.”
    His dark gaze finally landed on the computer and narrowed. Tova scooted across the floor, away from the assailant.
    “Yeah, that’s me, dude,” Marcus said. “Me taping everything. And I’m a cop. You’re going down, you fucker, and if you touch her again, you’re going