“Fuck you, Hennessy. I didn’t have jack shit to do with it, and if you were any kind of detective at all, you’d already know that.”

He shrugged. “How about you just keep turning over rounds from every gun you get in the door.”

“Fine. Whatever you want. You’ve got everything we had up until today. I took one more in on pawn this afternoon. I’ll test fire it in the morning and you can pick up the bullet and casing whenever you get around to it. I know NOLA’s finest are keeping busy schedules these days.”

“You do that. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He tipped his head to Elle. “A pleasure, Ms. Snyder.”

Elle’s muttered I’m sure it was all yours under her breath was the only thing that could have possibly made me smile.

I led Elle across the alley to the warehouse where the ’Cuda was parked, my protective instincts rising and my brain spinning.

Fuck.

What the hell had Bree gotten herself into?

Yes, she’d stolen from me, but I sure hadn’t wanted her dead. And two shots in the back? Jesus.

No one deserved that. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d still be breathing if I hadn’t fired her. Had she been in the Quarter at a new job? Why hadn’t I asked for more details?

Oh yeah, that’s right—because he was looking at me like a suspect and not a guy who’d helped him close more than a few cases because of the guns I’d bought and tested. No, I hadn’t been doing it out of the goodness of my heart before, but I could’ve stopped any time after we’d closed out Con’s case. And it looked like my assistance might be drawing to a close if Hennessy really thought I had jack shit to do with this. Yeah, I had a watered-down motive, but there was no way in hell I’d ever go after a woman.

I unlocked the door and deactivated the alarm, and Elle followed me inside. It was a routine we’d established over the last week; I’d gotten used to seeing her in the front seat of my ’Cuda. And now that I’d had a taste of her spicy sweetness, I should’ve been thinking about how I was going to convince her to take a chance with me and how I was going to make sure I had Con and Vanessa’s blessing.

But everything was now overshadowed by the ugliness of death. I didn’t like where my thoughts were going, so I revved the engine and peeled out. Elle scrambled for her seatbelt, but I kept my eyes on the road. She wasn’t going to like what I had to say, but I would do whatever was necessary to protect her.

I bided my time, the entire ride passing in silence before I parked in front of Dirty Dog. I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and she tentatively reached for the door handle.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you—”

“You’re fired, Elle.”

She swiveled around to face me. “What? Are you serious?”

I cut my eyes to her. “Yes. You’re done. Don’t come back. It was a bad idea to begin with, and it’s an even worse idea now.”

She crossed her arms, and lifted her chin. “Because of the date or Rix or Bree?”

I squeezed the steering wheel with my left hand until my knuckles turned white.

“Take a guess.”

“And if I keep showing up?”

I released my grip and turned toward her. “What is your goddamn obsession with working there?”

Her lips flattened and a deep V formed between her brows.

“I’ve got my reasons.”

“Then how about you share them with me so I understand what they are?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“There’s a whole lot of shit I don’t understand, but if you don’t tell me, I can’t even try.”

Elle shoved open the door to the ’Cuda, grabbed her purse from the floor, and climbed out. Instead of a response, I got a slammed door.

“Oh hell no,” I said to my empty car. “She is not walking away like that. No goddamn way.”

Within seconds, I was following her through a door on the side of the building housing Dirty Dog.

When I got inside the small lobby space, she was unlocking a metal gate that led to a set of stairs.

“Wouldn’t have expected someone as determined as you are to run.”

She threw a pissed-off-woman look over her shoulder. “I’m not running. I’m regrouping before I give in to the urge to scratch your pretty car.”

I lifted my hands in a gesture of surrender. “No need to threaten the car, Elle. That’s uncalled for.”

She yanked the gate open and slipped behind it, fully intending to slam it shut before I could get to her. Elle kept underestimating me, and that was totally fine.

I grabbed the wrought iron and tugged it from her grip.

“What are you doing? You got me here, so just go,” she ordered.

“Not until you tell me why you’re so dead set on working in my pawnshop.”

Elle ignored me and stalked up the stairs.

I kept following.

Finally, over her shoulder, she tossed, “None of your damn business.”

“It’s my pawnshop, so it sure as hell is my business. And you’re not setting foot in it again unless you give me a good reason.”

She reached the door to what I assumed was her apartment and jammed her key in the lock. She wasn’t even attempting to keep me out anymore. Probably because she was too busy cursing me out under her breath.

“And people say I’m stubborn? He’s ridiculous. I’m fired, and then he’s after me for a reason why I shouldn’t be? Seriously? Arrogant asshat,” she muttered.

I trailed her into her apartment, shocked to realize I was smiling. What was it about this woman and her ability to make me smile in almost any situation?

Elle’s apartment was not what I expected. There was nothing pink or frilly or girly in sight. It was bare. No pictures. No knickknacks. None of the stuff I would’ve expected from her.

“Did you just move in?”

Elle whipped around to look at me. “Until you unfire me, I think you’re going to find that my answers to your questions will be given solely in four letter words.”

The sass from this woman hit all my buttons exactly the right way. “Come on, Elle.”

Her hands landed on her hips, and the pose did nothing but push her tits out. “Am I still fired?”

“Yes—until you give me a reason that would make me think keeping you around would be worth the risk to you.”