Page 10 of Assassin's Prey
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Chapter Five
The oxygen mask obscured most of Abby’s face. The paramedics had tried to give me one too, but I’d shoved them off. I needed to be able to move, not tethered to a machine. Abby needed their attention, not me.
I’d held her for long moments, grounding us both, but my need to protect her had finally driven me to my feet. I kept my fingers wrapped around her nape as they treated a bump on her head where she’d connected with the brick during the fall. My gaze swept the crowd continually, watching for anyone who didn’t belong, but with the fire department and EMTs and people streaming in from all over the neighborhood to check out the fire, it was impossible to tell if anyone was paying the wrong kind of attention.
Remi had briefly appeared in my line of sight. He and Eli were out there, watching, wary. I should be out there with them, on the hunt, finding the bastards who’d done this, but Abby was my first priority, always—even if I compromised my own safety for hers. It went against everything I’d taught myself, everything I’d taught my brothers, but I couldn’t escape it, no matter how much my brain said I should. The rest of me told my brain to fuck off and stayed.
Two hits in twenty-four hours. There was no fast escape this time, but my brothers would watch our backs until I could get Abby away.
The paramedic finally stepped back, and that was when the cops moved in. Partners, apparently, one older and one not, both in the detectives’ uniform of cheap slacks and uncomfortable sport coats. “Ma’am,” the older one said, his focus on Abby.
I felt the muscles in her neck tighten, her spine straighten. She more than anyone knew how carefully I avoided official attention, but there was no choice here: I wouldn’t leave her alone. If that meant records, well, we could always erase them later.
“I’m Detective Bryant. We’d like to get a statement if you’re able.”
A shock ran through me as I stared at the guy. Gray hair, gruff voice—I knew that voice. Knew him. The knowledge burst through me with a nausea chaser. He might be nineteen years older and have more lines on his face, more weight sagging over his belt, but I’d never forget that voice. Detective Bryant had worked my parents’ murder case.
Fuck.
Abby pulled the oxygen mask off. “I’m fine.” The gravel of her words clearly said she wasn’t, but no one argued with her. I couldn’t resist running my thumb along her pulse, though. When had reassuring her become vital?
About twenty-four hours after I’d met her, probably. No matter how much my jackass self had fought it.
The cop’s gaze dropped to my thumb, then rose to me. His eyes narrowed—trying to figure out why I seemed familiar? All he needed was my name, and he’d have it soon enough; they’d want ID, and I didn’t have an alternate on me. So Levi it was.
I shifted against the rear door of the ambulance, all too aware of the handgun tucked in the small of my back.
“Your name?” he asked Abby.
She gave her name and other pertinent information, both of us watching as the younger officer wrote everything down. When it came time to explain what had happened, Abby swallowed hard.
“I don’t know for certain.” She shrugged, her injuries emphasizing the helpless look in her eyes. “I was upstairs when it started. I heard windows breaking, then the fire…” Her swallow pushed against my thumb. “I got out through my bedroom window.”
“And where were you, sir?” Bryant asked.
“Downstairs.”
“Your name?”
My gut clenched. “Levi Agozi.”
The man’s narrowed eyes went wide. “Agozi?”
From the corner of my eye I caught Abby glancing between us, concern tightening her features. I squeezed her nape gently, reassuring her even as I held Bryant’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Your parents were Miriam and Nathaniel Agozi.”
It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t answer. Bryant shifted to meet his partner’s eyes. “Double homicide years ago. We never caught the perp,” he said. Turned back to me. “Your uncle sent you to a boarding school, if I recall correctly. You and your brothers.”
Wrong. But then if Amos Agozi had let it be known that we’d run away, my uncle wouldn’t have been able to keep questions at bay—and he’d desperately needed to. I shrugged. “Our guardian wasn’t big on children.”
Bryant grunted, not seeming surprised.
“And the two of you are…” He glanced between Abby and me.
“Levi’s my b-boyfriend.”
