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“Permission
for
what?”
    He
closed
the
small
distance
between
them,
but
didn’t
touch.
His
nose
was
millimeters
    from
hers,
and
her
pressed
hands
on
the
doorframe
at
either
side
of
her
face.
His
    expression
was
placid.
Controlled.
    Asshole .
    “Permission
to
touch,
Sarah.”
    She
furrowed
her
forehead,
striving
for
a
look
of
incredulity.
“Excuse
me?
I’m
pretty
    sure
you
started
this
shit.”
    He
wasn’t
buying
it.
His
smirk
said
as
much.
“Yes. Respeto .
You
need
guidelines.
Good
    little
soldier.
You
follow
instructions.”
    Her
face
numbed
at
his
words.
How
did
he
know?
He
shouldn’t
have
known
that.
Was
    he
reading
her
the
way
Patrick
did
Dana,
or
was
she
just
that
transparent?
    He
switched
to
pure
English
and
narrowed
those
gray
eyes
at
her.
“I
make
it
easy.
I
tell
    you
where
to
touch.
And
when.
And
you
will.”
    She
didn’t
have
much
fight
left
in
her,
but
Sarah
Miller
wasn’t
a
woman
who
was
easy
    to
get.
She
squared
her
jaw
and
put
some
heat
in
her
stare.
“Will
I?
I
don’t
think
so.”
    She
didn’t
need
to
answer
that.
They
both
knew
she
would.
She’d
go
along
with
the
    playacting…at
least
for
a
little
while.
It’d
be
just
like
working
undercover,
and
she
was
used
    to
that.

    FRAMING FELIPE
–
37
–
Holley Trent

    She
dipped
out
from
under
his
arms
and
carried
the
case
to
the
table
where
she
picked
    up
the
keys
to
Patrick’s
truck.
“Let’s
hit
the
road.
You
need
to
give
me
some
information
    about
what’s
going
on
inside
that
circus
of
yours
so
Dana
and
Patrick
can
get
the
cats
out.”
    “Do
I
have
to
sit
in
the
back
seat
again?
Like
a
dog?”
    “You
are
a
dog,”
she
mumbled,
grazing
his
left
side
on
the
way
past
the
coffee
table
    toward
the
door.
    Before
she
could
make
it
there,
however,
the
sound
of
close-‐range
gunshot,
shattering
    glass,
and
Tamara
shouting
in
Romanian
gave
Sarah
pause.
An
animalistic
scream
cut
    through
the
air
and
it
wasn’t
cat,
but
not
quite
bear,
either.
    “Shit.”
Sarah
shucked
off
her
jacket
and
raced
to
the
door,
her
hand
already
tightened
    around
her
gun’s
grip.
“Close
and
lock
the
door
behind
me,”
she
shouted
to
Felipe.
She
ran
    out
onto
the
porch
with
her
gun
trained
on
the
addition’s
roof.
She
didn’t
check
behind
her
    to
see
if
Felipe
had
listened.
What
kind
of
idiot
wouldn’t
listen?

    FRAMING FELIPE
–
38
–
Holley Trent

CHAPTER
FIVE
    “ Mujer
loca. ”
    The
screen
door
rattled
against
its
frame
as
Sarah
hurled
herself
into
the
firefight.
It
    was
as
if
she
were
immune
to
the
feral
shrieks
that
would
have
given
any
sane
person
    pause.
The
sounds
were
made
by
something— someone —who
was
obviously
not
quite
    human.
No.
Not
sane,
that
woman.
She’d
heard
and
reacted,
and
there’d
been
very
little
    time
in
between
the
two
things.
It
was
like
some
switch
had
been
thrown
in
her
head.
She
    was
off,
then
on—just
like
that.
    Crazy
woman,
yes,
but
a
fearless
one.
And
maybe
he
knew
a
little
something
about
    crazy,
because
his
impulse
had
been
to
follow
her,
unarmed.
That
was
his
way,
just
like
so
    many
times
in
the
past
when
he’d
had
to
intercede
between
Jacques
and
some
troupe
    member
at
their
absolute
abuse
limit.
He’d
just
thrown
himself
into
the
fight,
consequences
    be
damned…just
like
Sarah
did.
    But,
this
wasn’t
his
battle.
He
didn’t
know
these
people.
    Footsteps
thundered
across
the
porch
planks,
and
Felipe
moved
toward
the
door,
    preparing
to
phase
in
defense.
He
didn’t
need
to.
The
surly