Marie Ferrarella - The Strong Silent Type

He, on the other hand, had never loved life. He tolerated it, just as it tolerated him. As far as he was concerned, he and life were nothing more than less than friendly adversaries.

Ignoring the startled inquiry of the doorman, Hawk tore into the building and quickly took the stairs to the second floor. The echo of footsteps told him she was right behind him.

His eyes took in everything in one swift, sweeping glance. The stately hallway before apartment 2E looked ready for photographing. Peaceful, elegant, it seemed an unlikely setting for a home invasion. Which was just what made it ripe for one.

Motioning Teri to the left side of the wide door while he took the right, Hawk strained to hear the sounds of discord coming from inside the apartment. Just the faintest of whimpers seeped into the air. His eyes met Teri’s. She nodded, indicating that she’d heard it, as well.

Holding his fingers up, Hawk did a silent count to three, then spun and kicked open the door, his service revolver poised to fire at anything that moved. He yelled out, “Police!”

His voice swiftly drowned in the onslaught of screams, curses and confusion.

In a split second, Teri saw six people, two elderly, two middle-aged and two children, in various stages of terror, frozen in place. Their arms were raised above their heads and they were obviously the victims rather than perpetrators.

Two others were fleeing to the end of the apartment—toward the apartment’s fire escape, if she didn’t miss her guess.

“Freeze!” Hawk shouted, but neither of the two men did.

Instead, both men, small, agile and athletic, propelled themselves through the open window and were gone in less time than it took for the scene to register.

Hawk was in hot pursuit. “Stay here,” he tossed over his shoulder, expecting her to obey. He should have known better.

“And when the hell did you become the boss of me?” Teri asked. Half a step behind, she followed him up the fire escape to the roof where the robbers had gone less than a minute before.

Hawk didn’t bother answering her, knowing it was useless to waste the energy or the air. Instead, he was focused on the two burglars who moved with the speed of men who had done this kind of thing more than once before. He was convinced that these were the men who had been reported breaking into homes, terrorizing their marks before they made their escape.

Grasping the black, newly repainted railing, he swiftly made his way up.

Sick, sick people, he thought, having less regard for the men he was chasing than he would for a beetle that crossed his path.

If he could have gotten a clear shot, he would have tried to wound the one closest to him in the leg. But if he took the time to aim, they would get too far ahead of him and he wasn’t about to risk firing wildly. What went up came down if it didn’t find a target and there were innocent bystanders on the street watching this minidrama unfold.

Why didn’t they all go home and just let him do his job?

Reaching the roof, Teri scanned it from one end to the other, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. The area appeared almost eerily still. She’d expected to see the two robbers trying to make the daring leap from one roof to the other. Buildings in this part of the city were structured close together enough for the reckless to attempt a leap.

Nothing came but the sounds from the street below.

That and a pigeon circling around overhead, looking for somewhere to land.

And then suddenly, Teri saw the glint of sunlight hitting metal. It was coming from behind the raised skylight.

Her heart froze. They were going to shoot him. Instinct rather than cold observation kicked in and she shoved Hawk out of the way.

“Gun!” she yelled by way of a warning and an explanation as Hawk went down, uttering a very terse oath centered around her.

The second she got the word out, a volley of gunfire echoed in its wake.

Out in the open, exposed, Hawk quickly darted toward the roof’s entrance.

Teri fell in behind him, although not as quickly as he would have figured she would have. Ordinarily, the woman was like his unshakable shadow, always less than half a breath behind, more than likely usually half a breath ahead. Concern instantly reared its head. Why was she dragging like that?

Sending a hail of bullets in the direction of the skylight, attempting to keep the burglars pinned down, Hawk looked behind him toward Teri. Like as not, he figured she probably saved him from getting shot. He owed her and he always paid up what he owed.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

For a moment, she didn’t hear him. The gunfire and pain blotted almost everything else out. And there was this strange buzzing in her ears that came accompanied by volleys of heat. When his words finally managed to echo in her brain, she forced a smile to her lips.

“Too much paperwork involved when your partner dies on you.”

Cavanaugh’s voice was strained. Even over the gunfire he could hear it. Hawk looked at her again, more closely this time.

And saw the blood that stained her jacket.

A barrage of curses materialized in his head, masking the deep concern he felt. “Damn it, are you hurt?”

She forced a smile to her lips. Was that concern? Sure it was. Looked bad on your record, two partners getting shot in less than a year.

“Just ketchup,” she managed to quip. “I’m a sloppy eater.”

Damn it, she was cracking jokes when that scum had just shot her. Shot her with a bullet that had been meant for him. She could have been killed.

Incensed, Hawk swung back around and began discharging his weapon in rapid succession, keeping the two home invaders trapped behind the skylight as he rushed them.

Clutching her weapon with both hands, Teri followed him in his charge, summoning adrenaline and exercising mind over matter. She told herself over and over again that her side didn’t feel as if it were on fire.

But it did. This wound hurt every bit as badly as when Clay, her twin brother, sent her flying from their tree house. They’d been ten at the time, embroiled in a heated argument she no longer recalled. All she remembered from the incident was that she broke her arm and her father had been furious with Clay. That had helped alleviate the pain somewhat.

No, she amended silently, gritting her teeth together, this definitely hurt more.

Firing as rapidly as she could, holding her side now as she went, Teri did her best to match Hawk step for step. She managed to keep the burglars pinned down as he gained ground.

“Damn it, woman, get back!” He roared the order, knowing in his heart she wouldn’t listen. Cavanaugh never listened. Wasn’t it enough that she’d gotten shot? Did she want to get killed, too? Fear echoed in his brain.

The next moment, he got the drop on both burglars, ordering them to drop their weapons or suffer the consequences.

One threw down his weapon, raising his hands above his head. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” he begged them each in turn.

The second man held on to his weapon, his dark eyes darting from one police detective to the other.

Hawk thought of Teri and what could have been. “C’mon,” he growled, pinning the second man down with a glare from his icy-blue eyes as much as with his gun. “Give me an excuse. Just one excuse.”

Clearly shaken, the second man threw down his weapon and raised his hands. His eyes never left Hawk’s. “Okay, I did like you said. Just don’t shoot me.”

“Step away from the guns,” Teri ordered, waving them back with her own weapon. Only when the men complied did she allow herself to look in Hawk’s direction. She did her best to brazen it out. “Good imitation of Dirty Harry. My father would really like you.”