Nico Rosso - Renegade Protector

She lowered the pepper spray but stayed on guard. “Yes, you were absolutely there for me just now, but this has been going on for months. Are you going to stick around that long?” She jabbed her finger toward him. “And what do you get in return?”

He bared his teeth. “I get the satisfaction that a good person won her fight.”

She swept her purse off the ground. Ty talked tough, but confidence alone wasn’t going to win this struggle. “You make it sound so easy.”

His flashlight pointed at the door of her truck now, bathing him in reflected red light. “I know it isn’t.”

“You seem to know a hell of a lot.” It was crazy to collect any hope from Ty’s conviction. “And all I know is the name you gave me.” Which could easily be fake. “How did you find me? I haven’t gone public with any of this.”

He explained slowly, “But you did go to the police when the extortion started. And that puts things on record.”

“So you’re a cop?” That might clarify parts of this, but not everything. Ty certainly had authority in his presence, but if he was here on any official capacity, he would’ve flashed some identification. Not that she had much trust in the police these days. Pete toed the line with the rest of the local cops, explaining that they couldn’t do anything without proof. The goons who’d been coming around had been too slick to get caught.

Ty dropped his voice, sounding like he had a secret only for her. “I’m part of an organization—”

Shattering glass interrupted him. He immediately ran in the direction it came from. Her store. She chased after him toward the back of the building. More glass broke. A car tore away down the street in front of the row of stores.

A yellow light flickered in her shop, making the shadows in the back door dance awkwardly. The light deepened to a dangerous red. It silhouetted Ty as he skidded to a stop at the door. He turned to her, face deadly serious. “Call 911.”

She pulled her phone and her keys from her purse as she pressed the emergency-dial button on her phone, Ty took her keys, unlocked the back door and rushed in without hesitation. A wave of heat hit her, and she could only stand and stare at the fire that spread across the floor of her shop. Beyond it were the broken windows, gaping, jagged and dripping with flames.

The emergency operator answered and Mariana implored the fire department to show up as soon as they could.

Ty’s shape hurried through her field of view. He moved purposefully, opening drawers in a desk behind the register. “Where’s the important paperwork?” he barked over the sound of the growing fire.

She burst into action and ran into the shop. Shouldering him aside, she unlocked the file drawer on the desk and pulled out the fire safe containing her business license, her inspection reports and the archival information she’d collected on the historic building all the shops shared.

Ty held his large hand out to her. “Cash?” She found the key for her register and handed it to him as the heat intensified. An automatic alarm system blared. “Get to safety.” He pointed to the back door. She sped in that direction, losing sight of him as he moved toward the register.

The fire grew and the ceiling sprinklers finally hissed to life. She swung out the back door, put the safe down and turned to see the steam from the blaze as it crept up her wooden display tables. Water would kill the fire, but nothing could quench the rage that shook her. The intimidation had been wearing her down for months, but tonight was a direct attack. Her body had been threatened. Her work was burning.

A hunched and wet Ty blasted from the back door, carrying her cash drawer. He handed it to her. The undiminished fire revealed his grim face. “Homemade napalm,” he explained. “It’s like jelly. The water won’t put it out.”

The fury felt like it would consume her. “This is how badly they want me gone.”

“But they don’t know who they’re fighting against. The answer’s still inside.” Instead of backing away from the growing blaze, he sped back through the rear door.

Sirens cut through the night in the distance. She hung up her phone, dropped the cash drawer and rushed to the door. Ty moved through the deadly blaze, one arm curled across his face for protection. He was collecting something, but she couldn’t tell what.

“Leave it,” she shouted to him through the door. “Leave it! It’s not important.” Her merchandise was a loss by now, and none of it was worth his hurting himself. He disappeared completely in the flames. She threw the door open. Despite the heat, cold panic raced through her muscles. “Ty!” She crouched low, beneath the choking smoke. “Ty!” Water from the sprinklers splashed on her as she pressed forward toward the flames. He’d helped her, stepped into her fight, and she couldn’t just leave him in the fire.

He burst through the flames in front of her. The two of them retreated for the back exit as relief washed over her. Once they were outside, she saw that he held a stack of the old framed photos from her shop walls. The same photos he’d been examining when he was there earlier.

“It is important,” he said. “This is why you’ve got to keep standing up.” He shuffled the antique pictures until he got to one of a group of nineteenth-century cowboys and frontierswomen of different ethnicities, posing along a ridge next to a sprawling oak tree.

She laughed without any joy. Her shop burned. Exhaustion dragged her down. “I can’t stand up anymore.”

The sirens grew louder. He glanced in that direction. “You’ve got to.” He held up the picture. “This is us. This is my organization.”

Maybe she’d hit her head during the attack. Maybe this was all a dream. “So you’re a cowboy from the past who’s come to help me?”

The continuing fire etched Ty’s serious face as he pointed to a man in the group. “This is my ancestor. These people formed a group to protect anyone without a voice. People like them. Poor. Immigrants. Women. Workers.” He looked again to where the sirens were coming from. He’d fought a man, saved her from the speeding car and dived into her burning shop, and still he stood strong before her. “That job isn’t finished.”

“Look what they did.” Tears burned her eyes as the flames mocked her. A fire truck finally pulled up in front of her store, firefighters rushing out before the wheels stopped.

“I know you’re under the gun.” He put a hand on her shoulder, and his energy radiated into her. “That’s why I’m here.”

She winced as more glass shattered. The firefighters raked it out of the frames so they could access the fire. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

His gaze held hers. “We’re going to turn around and take the fight to who’s doing this.”

“Why?” There had to be a catch.

“This is what we do.” He handed her the picture of the group of people. “This is who I am.” Red and blue police lights flickered into the parking lot. Ty’s eyes narrowed as he watched the approaching car. “Don’t tell them my name.”

“You’re not leaving.” She tried to hold him with her voice. Ty had been the only good in this terrible night. Hell, he’d been the only good she’d seen since this ordeal began.

He looked back from the approaching police car and into her eyes. “I’m with you all the way. Until it’s over.” His broad shoulders straightened. He radiated power. “You are not alone.”

The police car stopped and its searchlight swept over the back of the shop, then onto her. She blinked. Ty was gone. As if he’d never been there. But his impact was clear. He’d protected her and saved what he could from the shop, including the old photo she held. The stern-faced people stared at her with the same strength and determination Ty had. But he’d disappeared somewhere into the deep shadows.