Chapter 9

7:00 p.m.

Con’s heart stumbled. Oh, yeah. The appeal he’d waited so long to hear. He grasped Bailey’s shirts and tugged them upward. His mind’s eye saw him strip them off, along with her jeans. Saw full breasts cupped by the black lace camisole. Milky white skin covered only by skimpy black panties. Her body bared to his stroking hands, arching under his eager mouth. He saw her eyes darken as he slid into her damp heat, her delicious lips part in a gasp of pleasure as she climaxed.

Saw the bad guys bursting in on them at the most inopportune moment, machine guns firing.

“Whoa!” He jerked back from the vision. From the warm, willing woman in his arms.

Fighting his way out of the passion-drugged high was like trying to stop a speeding getaway car by standing spread-eagled in the middle of the freeway. He was just as likely to get mowed down. His breathing as jagged as his composure, he gently grasped Bailey’s hands and removed them from the hot zone. “As much as I want to make love to you, darlin’—” He sucked in a shaky breath and pulled down her rumpled shirts. “We can’t.”

She stared at him, dazed and vulnerable. “Why not?”

Damn, with her looking at him with her heart in her eyes, breaking it off wrenched his guts. When seconds ago, he’d felt her love and desire pouring into him in a heady rush. When her sweet taste still flooded his palate. Her flowery, feminine scent still tantalized his nostrils. When his need still roiled his senses.

When he did not know if he would survive the night.

In spite of reassuring Bailey to the contrary, in spite of his training, and SWAT on alert, nothing was certain. He’d seen incidents explode without warning—turn lethal between one breath and the next. Watched fellow officers die so quickly they didn’t realize what was happening. He did not know if he would ever have a chance to make love to the woman who held his heart.

“Please, Con,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He groaned. “I want to.” Tempted, he scrubbed an unsteady hand over his jaw. Battled the throbbing ache. There weren’t enough baseball stats in the universe to distract him. Not enough icebergs in Antarctica to douse the volcano seething inside.

He silently counted to a hundred. “Baby, there is not enough blood in my body to make love to you and operate my brain. If the bad guys show up, I won’t hear them until too late. I sure as hell won’t be in any shape to fight.”

She blinked. Blinked again. “I’m not…I didn’t…”

“Not to mention,” he continued in a gentle tone, “I don’t want our first time together to be here, like this. Not under these circumstances. Rushed. Desperate.”

The sensual haze cleared from her eyes like morning mist burned away by harsh daylight. Color flooded her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands. “I’ve lost my mind. I’m so sorry.”

He heaved a silent sigh. For a few minutes, he’d wondered if he’d also hurtle over the cliff into a freefall. Now that both of them had stepped back from the brink of insanity, tumbling over the edge was impossible. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You’ve ridden too many scary highs and rough lows today. It’s bound to affect your equilibrium. Only natural to seek comfort.” He’d experienced the same highs and lows, the same fears. But he couldn’t afford to seek comfort. He had to stay strong—at least on the outside.

She squeaked like a stepped-on kitten. “You were comforting. I attacked you.”

“Did you hear complaints?” He kissed the bright curls on top of her head. “I’ll take a rain check on that tactical assault.”

“How can you possibly even want me when I’m so…unworthy?” Her agonized question was muffled in his shirt.

“None of that. I’ll always want you. Every minute of every day for the rest of my life.”

“Self-control has never been my strong suit where you’re concerned. I got caught up in the feelings and forgot where we are and the situation we’re in. That’s not like me at all.”

He grinned. The all-male part of him loved knowing he could blow her mind with mere kisses. Just wait until he got her in his bed. He’d send her into nuclear meltdown. “That little confession makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive.”

“I can feel you grinning. I’m such a doofus.”

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. And you’re anything but a doofus.” He rubbed the taut, quivering muscles in her back, pleased when she relaxed. “For a civilian operating under incredibly stressful circumstances, you’re doing great.”

“I jeopardized your safety.” She sounded near tears. “I’m sorry. I never want to hurt you. In any way.”

“Hey, now.” He tipped up her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you didn’t hurt me. I wouldn’t have let things get out of hand.” Close, but he’d pulled out of the firing line in time.

Barely.

“I had this romanticized view of you…a valiant knight in shining armor. I didn’t want to face the gritty truth, the blood, the violence, the death.” She swallowed so hard it looked like it hurt. “But this job is what you’re meant to do.” She sighed. “I’m just not sure I can handle the day-to-day reality of it.”

“That’s your choice to make.” And he prayed she would choose him.

“Yes.” She gulped again. “Con, even if I find the courage to stay with you, it might not be the right choice. You might regret being with me if I can’t support you the way I should.”

So, they’d circled around to that again. Fear of abandonment was nipping at her heels. “You think even if you choose to stay, I’m going to suddenly decide you’re not the woman I think you are? And walk out on you, like your father?” When she flinched, he gathered her close and kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her warm, succulent lips. “When are you going to get it through your head that I know you, inside and out? That nothing you say or do will ever make me leave you?”

She sat up and folded her arms protectively across her body. “I wish I had your strength instead of being weak. I wish I could be an asset to you, instead of a liability.”

The storm of shame in her gaze ripped out his heart. He’d been in the echoing, ultra-modern apartment she’d been moved to from her childhood home. She’d grown up with everything anyone could want. Everything but emotional support. Physical affection. Unconditional love. He was going to make that up to her. If it took until he was a hundred and she was ninety-five. “Come here.” He sat up and tugged her close. “You’ve helped me numerous times tonight. You thought up the fire alarm. How to hang up the signal sheet. And alerted me to the criminal-stopping properties of acetic acid. You are not a weakling, or a liability.”

Tears ran down her face. “I can’t help thinking about my dad. I don’t know what drove him, or why, but he spent his entire life trying to slay dragons. He was strong and brave, but in the end, it killed his marriage. Killed our family. Killed him. If he wasn’t strong enough or brave enough to slay the dragon, how can I possibly be?”

“That might be the problem. You’re a pacifist, darlin’. Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to slay the dragon, but trying to figure out what it says when it roars. Come to terms with it.”

“An approach I never considered.” She frowned. “For a woman who doesn’t believe in violence, I’ve been spending an awful lot of time trying to figure out how to assassinate an integral part of me. Talk about self-destructive.”

“Don’t be afraid to look deep inside and see what’s there. Maybe you need to discover what you’re made of and accept the woman you really are. Make peace with yourself.”

“I’m a coward, that’s who I am. I’ve been quaking in terror since this whole thing started. I wish I had your confidence.”

He wished she did, too. He abhorred seeing her tortured by anxiety. Hated her self-doubt. Hurt at seeing her second-guess every thought, every action. She’d been so smothered, she didn’t trust her instincts. “You think I haven’t been scared?”

“You don’t seem afraid.”

“Only a fool wouldn’t be scared. I know what kind of odds we’re up against. But I can’t help anyone if I allow feelings to overrule logic. I’ve been trained to contain my emotions. You haven’t. You have a lot more courage than you realize.”

“How can you say that?”

“Courage is not lack of fear, Bailey. It’s the ability to act in spite of it. You’ve been right beside me, pulling your weight through this entire ordeal. Believe me, you have courage.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“By the time we get out of here, you will be. We’ll know each other more deeply than we ever thought possible. Who we are, what we are. As individuals and a couple.”

“Maybe in the most horrible circumstances possible.”

“You keep projecting the worst-case scenario, don’t you?” He grabbed her hand and enfolded her small, cold fingers in his. “Okay. Let’s drag out your biggest fear and stare it in the face. If one of us, or God forbid, both of us don’t make it out of here, the survivors can cling to the knowledge that we did our damnedest. We fought the good fight. To the bitter end.”

“What if I can’t fight the good fight?” Her lips quivered and she pressed them together. “My worst fear is that I’ll let you down. I’ll fail. And you will die because of my shortcomings.”

He squeezed her hand. “That is not going to happen.”

“It could.” Her face crumpled. “Because I’m not exactly a kick-ass kind of woman. I’m short on qualities like power and confidence and assertiveness.”

Dammit. Con forced down the lump in his throat. She hadn’t been abandoned only by her father, but her mother as well. Dr. Ellen Chambers had provided every material necessity, every social grace and educational opportunity. But what her daughter needed most, she’d been unable to give. She’d retreated into her own pain and left Bailey to struggle through the emotional minefield alone.

His father’s death had given him and his family up-close-and-personal acquaintance with the crippling effects of sudden loss. The paralyzing properties of grief. They’d all slam danced with survivor’s guilt. But they’d clung together. Navigated the murky waters as a team, throwing each other a lifeline when one of them sank under waves of despair.

He shook his head. Dr. Chambers had coped the best she could. He shouldn’t blame, shouldn’t judge. But when he saw the consequences to Bailey, he couldn’t help but feel resentment and anger. “No, you aren’t a kick-ass woman. You never had to be.” He smiled at her terminology. “You got your point across without it. But you never know what you’re made of until you’re tested. Adversity is bringing out your true character.”

She paled in the lantern light. “How can you possibly love me?” She snatched her hand away, scrambled up and out of the tent.

“Whoa! Wait a minute.” He surged to his feet and followed her into the dark store. A painted full moon and luminescent stars overhead cast a faint shine, allowing him to see her standing rigid beside a grove of artificial trees. His senses scanned the area. The mall was deathly quiet, no signs of pursuers.

He strode to her, but she kept her back to him, her fists clenched. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “That wasn’t criticism. I’m trying to help you see what I see.”

Her shoulders hitched. “You need a powerful woman by your side. Like my mom. A powerful woman never lets anyone get the better of her.”

“Which isn’t always an asset.” He stroked her tangled curls. “You’ve got something a lot more valuable than power. You walk into that burn ward every week with a spring in your step and a smile on your face.”

She turned, her eyes wounded and wary. “That’s no big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal. For two hours, you bring hope and laughter to those scarred, hurting, sometimes dying kids and make their lives better, make them forget their pain. You give them the rare and valuable gift of your very best. Do you know how much inner fortitude that takes?”

“It never seemed all that remarkable to me.”

“Which is why you’ve got guts up the wazoo, baby.”

She tugged on a water-dewed fir branch next to her. Droplets scattered across the carpet, the soft plops loud in the heavy silence. “I’ve never thought of giving to others as a strength.”

“Well, it is. I don’t have that kind of strength. I could never do what you do with those kids. It would hurt so much, I’d hold part of myself back from them. But you’re not afraid to offer everything in your heart. To give until it hurts.” He moved closer and cupped her face in his hands. She was shaking. “You wear mercy on your sweet face every hour of every day. For everyone but yourself. Cut yourself a break, darlin’.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “I guess I am stronger than I thought.”

“You are. You refused to let your mother subjugate you, mold you into the image she wanted. Alone, you grew from a sheltered, broken-hearted teenager into a remarkable woman with a hell of a lot to offer. To me and the world.”

Her breath caught, and her trembling increased with the force of her realization. “Oh, Con. You’re right. Young and naive as I was, I fought for and won my independence. I was determined to carve out my own life, and I did.” She stared up at him, hope glistening in her gaze. “I guess I need to recognize and have confidence in my abilities, huh?”

“You’re smart and open-minded enough to admit your mistakes and learn from them.” He brushed his thumbs over the smooth, baby-fine skin of her cheekbones. “Easy enough to take that conviction and turn it into confidence.”

She swallowed hard, nodded. “I can do that.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Of course you can.”

“Which will help me become more assertive as well.”

“There you go.” Vindicated, he grinned at her. He hadn’t misplaced his faith. “Insight. Another attribute you possess in spades. Too many people think they’ve already arrived. You realize life is a process and it’s only during the trek that you grow.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, huge shimmering pools of deep blue. “You honestly do believe in me.”

“You bet I do.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “All those incredible qualities are why fell in I love with you. The moment I saw you, I saw your heart.”

The tears spilled over, shining silver streaks in the pale light. She choked. “Thank you.”

He drew her into his embrace, holding her close. “You know, after Dad died, Mom hung a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt on the fridge. Something like, ‘You gain strength and courage when you stare fear in the face.’ You can say, ‘I lived through this horror. I’ll handle whatever comes along.’”

“So that’s where you get the ‘crap happens, I’ll handle it’ philosophy.” She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “So, tonight is some kind of test? A trial by fire?”

“One way of looking at it, yeah. But you’re not me, and you can’t expect to respond like me.” He swayed, rocking her gently. “I have to walk my road, and you, yours. We’ll arrive at our destination in different ways. But we will do our damnedest. We will arrive. Exactly where, when and how we’re supposed to.”

She eased away to look up at him again. Understanding glinted in her gaze. “We’re on the same path to a shared destiny.”

If she escaped this situation believing in herself, then every moment of suffering was worth it. “We have been since we met. And no matter what happens, no matter how this turns out, hold on to one thought. Be at peace with it. We cannot control the universe. The Man Upstairs knows what he’s doing. Though we may never know the reasons, tonight was meant to be.”

“Even if…” She sucked in a breath. “The worst happens?”

“Especially then.” Pressed body to body, her heart thundered against his. He breathed in her heady fragrance. “Believe in the realm of mysteries.”

Her trembling slowed, then stopped as her inner storm subsided and calmness settled over her. Her heartbeat steadied. “With your words as my wings, your faith in me as my shield, how can I do anything but soar?”

He grinned as his heart soared along with her. “So, you’ll keep the faith?”

“Yes. I have an obligation to the woman I really am.”

“Just be yourself.”

She gave him a wobbly smile that arrowed into his chest. “Have I mentioned lately how wonderful you are?”

They’d traveled a long way from breakfast, when she’d been determined to break up with him. To end their future before they had a chance to live it. Now they might have a shot, if only the bad guys didn’t end it. “Never hurts to say it again.”

“You are wonderful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He glanced around. Still quiet. “You need to rest while the team outside tightens the web.”

She touched his cheek. “There’s a team inside, too. And we’re getting better at working together by the minute.”

“That we are.” He led her back into the tent. “Now, close those man-killer blue eyes and sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Bailey’s eyes drifted closed, and her breathing evened out. Her absolute trust warmed him, body and soul. He wouldn’t let her down. Con rubbed the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. The strain of exuding unrelenting confidence had finally caught up with him. For hours, he’d been projecting assurance he didn’t feel. But, for Bailey’s sake, he had to pull it together and keep it together. Not to mention the hostages who were depending on him.

He extracted a tablet of cinnamon gum from his pocket and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths. While Bailey slept, he silently battled the demons of doubt and terror.

 

Bailey opened her eyes and blinked in the dim light. “Where am I?” Panic pierced her grogginess and she struggled to throw off the thick comforter.

“Shh. It’s okay, baby,” Con’s quiet voice soothed. “You’re with me.” His strong, warm hand stroked her forehead.

“Con?” She glanced over and saw him sitting beside her, watching her. Dark stubble shadowed his chiseled cheekbones and highlighted his gorgeous mouth. Puzzled, she frowned. He was normally smooth shaven. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Nearly twenty-one hundred.”

“Twenty-one hundred? Oh, almost nine.” She studied the rumpled blankets. Drowsy and confused, a tingling memory of scorching kisses and soft caresses swirled in her muddled brain. “Did we sleep together?”

“Now that is not a flattering question.” He laughed softly.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. They were in a tent? The day’s events hurtled back in a blurred rush of fear and running. “Rats. I thought I was having a really sensual dream about you.”

A sexy smile quirked his lips. “Have those often, do you?”

“Not nearly often enough.”

He laughed again, the husky sound making her belly clench. “Maybe sometime soon, you won’t have to resort to dreams.”

Bailey grinned at him. Boy, was he in for a surprise. He’d given her solid ground to stand on. Questions and answers that had made her decision so much easier than she ever imagined. Her knight lived in a violent world of blood and death. But he also possessed a tender heart, brimming with life and love. Steeped in loyalty and bone-deep integrity. He wouldn’t let her down. How could she do anything less for him?

Their relationship, their love was special. Beautiful and rare as a flawless diamond. She refused to let her fears stop her. She’d find a way to be the woman he needed. To make their dreams come true a lot sooner than he expected. Once they escaped, she was going to leap on him and never let him go. They might not even make it out of the parking lot.

Being hunted down like an animal had given her a crash course in prioritizing. Being forced to face her own mortality had taught her not to put off important things. She’d never again worry about planning for every eventuality. If they made it out of here in one piece, she would forever live in the moment.

Don’t worry, be happy.

She yawned and stretched. “The plan?”

“Find out how negotiations are faring. Check on Syrone.”

“I’m coming with you.” She glared at the Kevlar vest in the corner. “And I’m not wearing that. It’s too heavy—I won’t be able to run. You should wear it. You’re the one always jumping in front of bullets.”

He gave her a considering look. “Makes sense.”

“Where do you want to contact the team?”

“From the sky bridge. I can use hand signals, they can send light signals back.” He slipped on the vest, rapidly fastened the buckles. “It’s on the opposite side from the bank, so the robbers shouldn’t figure out what’s happening.”

She hated to leave their cozy nest. Wished they could simply curl up and hide until they were rescued. But that would be cowardly. And counterproductive. Unless they did their part, there might not be a rescue. For them or their friends downstairs.

They conducted a wary jog to the sky bridge. The night was growing colder, and her breath puffed out white in the chilly air. Beyond the glass, ominous darkness squeezed in on every side. Freezing rain sleeted the windowpanes, making her feel more sealed in. Creepy. Like they were entombed in a big, cold, glass coffin. Foreboding shivered over her.

Lights flashed, ripping holes in the heavy black blanket surrounding them. “Damn.” Con turned from the window. “The suspects have refused to open the door and retrieve the throw phone. Not a good sign for the hostages if they won’t negotiate. The robbers could be planning SBC.”

“SBC?”

“Suicide by cop. Go out in a blaze of glory. It’s more common than people realize.”

Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed. “What now?”

“Same as we have been. Improvise, modify, adapt, overcome. We need to head downstairs and scope out the situation.”

The PA system crackled and she jumped. “Yoo-hoo to the busy little mice running loose in the mall.” The deep, graveled male voice was almost cordial. If you discounted the underlying hum of menace.

Bailey gasped. “That’s the head bank robber! The one the other guy called Tony when we were crouched outside the bank.”

Con’s expression grew murderous. “The one wearing Dad’s watch.”

“FYI,” Tony continued. “We’ve wired all the outside doors. If you attempt to open them, or blast through them…kaboom.” He cleared his throat. “Obviously, you are able to communicate with the cops. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here, and attempting to discuss details they shouldn’t know on the megaphone. So, here’s the deal. You come and see me. Talk to me. Otherwise, these hostages…” He paused. “Have very short life expectancies.”

Con swore viciously.

“You have twenty minutes. And so do they.” The PA system went dead.

Her stomach dropped to her boots and her mouth went dry. “You’re not…going down there and confront him?”

“No way. That’s TV stuff again. Never lay down your weapon and never turn yourself into bait in an attempt to save hostages. It just makes more hostages. And/or dead cops.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “I need a way to communicate with the suspects and still keep my distance. I wonder if the camping store carries walkie-talkies? That might fly.”

“They do! I saw them when I got the lantern. Cell phones don’t get reception in the mall, so would walkie-talkies work?”

“I don’t know. Worth a shot. Different schematics, different operational modes, different frequencies. If we’re lucky, I might even be able to contact SWAT. I can signal them with the frequency and channels, and they can patch in.”

They sprinted to Outdoor Outfitters. Con read boxes by flashlight while Bailey located batteries. She stuffed packages of disposable hand warmers, two sets of foot-warmer heating pads and Polarshield emergency blankets in her pack. As cold as it was becoming, they might need them later. She also spotted a portable, retractable clothesline made of thin, black plastic-coated wire that might come in handy for tying up bad guys. She finished as he selected six walkie-talkies and laid them on the counter in the back of the store.

She inserted batteries into three red radios while he put them in three blue ones. He placed a hands-free headset and mic on her ears and clipped a blue receiver to her waistband. He then situated a headset and blue unit on himself. “I’m going to hook the robbers up with a modified two-way FRS system—family radio service—and lock in one channel. It’s short range and they won’t be able to hear or talk to anyone but us. SWAT will be able to tap into the transmissions, though. I’ll be the go-between. The robbers will be on the blue set.”

“And the red set?”

“The red set is a GMRS, or general mobile radio system. Transmits up to five miles, and to a greater range of frequencies.” He clipped a red walkie-talkie to her waistband beside the blue unit and then one on his own. “If we switch the headset mic back and forth, we can talk to each other, and SWAT on the red unit, and the bad guys can’t eavesdrop.”

“Who is the third red radio for?”

“Syrone.”

“Now for the million-dollar question. How are you going to deliver the radio to the robbers without getting caught?”

“I have a plan.”

“Of course you do. Will I hate it?”

He didn’t reply. “First things first. Back to the sky bridge.”

They raced to the sky bridge, where Con performed another complicated hand dance, and more flashing lights replied. She switched on her red receiver and he showed her how to operate the radios. “These are both manual and VOX, voice activated. If VOX is on we don’t have to key the mics. The receiving light will blink when someone transmits to us.” He plugged the headset mic into his red unit, and she heard his voice in her earpiece. “SWAT Command, this is the Nutcracker, do you read? Over.”

A few tense seconds of static buzz. Then a click echoed in her ears. The static disappeared. “Loud and clear,” his big brother Aidan’s smooth, deep cadence replied. “Nice to hear from you. This is SWAT Command. Is this channel secure? Over.”

“Ten-four. As much as it can be.”

“Got yourself into quite a conundrum there, eh? Over.”

Con grinned. Close to all three of his brothers, Con was closest to Aidan. Aidan had always razzed Con without mercy. The two played pranks on one another, and on their younger brothers that usually landed the pranksters in major hot water. Aidan was always there when he needed an ear. Steady. Dependable. No better man to have at your back. On a tactical op or in an emotional shitstorm. “Nothing I can’t handle. You’re command? Over.”

“That’s a ten-four. I’m the senior ranking officer on site. Alpha Dog is ten-seven and out of communication.”

“Oh, hell, we’re all in deep shinola. Over.”

“Nutcracker, what’s your status?”

“Lead-free and rolling. About to visual hostages and contact suspects. Crew leader’s name is Tony. He’s issued a deadline and threatened the hostages’ lives. Claims he’s wired the doors. He blew the vault, so he’s probably not bluffing. You have fifteen minutes to form an aggressive assault plan that doesn’t involve the main doors. If you don’t hear from me, green-light it. Over.”

“Ten-four. Fifteen minutes. Make sure you’re clear of the area.”

“Roger that. And Command?” Con’s voice cracked slightly. “He’s wearing Dad’s watch.”

“What?” Shock echoed in Aidan’s sharp question. “Repeat. Over.”

“Tony is wearing Dad’s watch. The one he had on when he was killed. My gut says this crew has been pulling the string of unsolved bank jobs and home invasions. I know it’s a long shot, but get somebody on the computers and see if the name and MO pops. Will advise next move. Stand by. Over.”

“Ten-four.” Aidan paused. “Nutcracker?” The low admonition belonged to the big brother, not the cop. “Watch your back.”

“Always do.” The emotion layered beneath the carefree words was the younger brother’s. “Don’t worry about me. Just nail this scumbag’s butt to the wall. Over and out.”

No matter how many times she witnessed it, the heart connection Con and his brothers shared never failed to awe her. “Why did you say you were the Nutcracker?”

“Never use names over the airwaves. You don’t know who might be listening in.” He studied her. “Think you can handle tossing a Molotov cocktail or three?”

“If I have to.” Queasiness roiled her insides. “Do you want me to throw them at someone?” She wasn’t sure she could force herself to do that.

“No, just create a diversion while I plant the walkie-talkie.”

“I can manage a diversion.”

“We’ve got to move. I’ll fill you in on the details as we head downstairs.”

One more quick trip to the camping store to fill emptied water bottles with kerosene. Torn strips of cammo pants twisted into fuses. A waterproof lighter completed the deadly kit.

They scuttled to the escalators, her rapid breaths loud in her ears.

Con rolled his wrist and checked the time. “Ten minutes. Ready?”

She nodded.

He kissed her, hard and fast. “Let’s rock.”