Killing Fear by Allison Brennan Page B

heart just a little, just enough to make it bleed again.
    She opened the club’s back door and walked down the hall to the Back Room. And there he was, sitting alone at her bar. In her club.
    She’d seen Will Hooper on the news, but that was nothing compared to his physical presence. She couldn’t swallow, could barely move, her heart pounding loud in her ears, her eyes dry. He saw her at the same time, put down his coffee mug, and stood. He was tall, over six feet, lanky, and far too sexy. He could have been a model, with those GQ good looks, sun-bleached brown hair cut short on the sides and longer on the top, strong jaw, and dark ocean-blue eyes. But he wasn’t a sex god or a model, he was a cop. A cop who hadn’t trusted her, even when she thought he understood her. A cop who hadn’t loved her as she had loved him.
    Robin realized that her act, her public persona, was all she had. No one believed she had anything inside, anything that needed love and respect and care. All she was to men was a body, a smile, and a wink. And whose fault was that? Stripping had been her choice. She had only herself to blame.
    “Hi, Robin.”
    She walked behind the bar, putting the solid mahogany counter between them. She pulled a water bottle out of the cooler. Opened it. Drank half of it. Tried to slow her racing heart, cool her hot blood.
    He’d hurt her, betrayed her, and still she reacted to him. Still she remembered his lips on hers, felt his hands on the back of her neck. She’d once felt like she was the only person in his world, the only woman in his universe.
    An act. Like her, Will Hooper was all about the attitude. The public act. Did he care about anything or anyone other than himself?
    “Shouldn’t you be out looking for a certain psychopathic killer?”
    His jaw tensed. “I’m heading the task force—”
    She cut him off. “I saw the news conference.” She wanted him out of her club. Her emotions were too exposed, her fears too raw. She could picture herself falling into his arms, letting him hold her. Touch her. Kiss her. Make love to her. In Will’s arms, she had felt safe. Real. Loved.
    But she wouldn’t do that to herself. She was far too valuable a human being to allow her body to be used by a man who didn’t respect her, who didn’t love her, who didn’t believe in her.
    “Robin, please—”
    “I don’t want you here.”
    “Hear me out.”
    She shook her head. She couldn’t listen to his excuses. She didn’t want his lies. “I can take care of myself, Will. I’ve been doing it a long time. I did it before you came into my life, and I did it after you left. I’m ready for Theodore Glenn. I won’t let him walk away.”
    Will’s temper rose, his face deepening in color, his jaw even tighter. He leaned forward. She stood firm.
    “Dammit, Robin! Listen to yourself. The Lone Ranger. Just because you have a gun and some self-defense training, you think you can protect yourself against that crazy bastard?”
    She leaned forward, hands on the bar. “You investigated me?”
    “Damn straight! I had to find out where you lived so I could increase patrols in your neighborhood. I ran your record and found out you managed to snag a concealed carry permit. Well, good for you. But do you think that Glenn isn’t prepared?”
    “Oh, and only you, the big and mighty Will Hooper can stop him?” She barked out a laugh. “A lot of good you did for Anna!”
    Robin had gone too far. She saw it in Will’s face. He pushed back from the bar. Hurt and angry. Just like her.
    She swallowed her own guilt. She was just as much to blame for Anna’s death as Will. Maybe even more so.
    What Will was about to say, Robin didn’t know. His cell phone rang and he turned from her, answered it. “Hooper.”
    A moment later he exclaimed, “What the fuck happened? Where were the—” He stopped, glanced at Robin with a mixture of anger and worry. “I’m on my way. Call Detective Kincaid and have her meet me