Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Get up. Keep moving.
There was another cop, this one older, standing beside him, who reached down to help me. “Whoa. Are you all right?”
I shook my head as I grasped his offered hand and let him haul me up. “He’s got a gun, and he tried to kill me.”
Alarm made him stiffen, and both officers reached for their weapons. They were pulled from their holsters and held with both hands to the side of their bodies, alert and in the ready position.
“Get behind me,” the older officer said, and I eagerly obeyed.
Our tense focus turned to the corner I’d just come from, the one where I expected Seth to appear at any moment—
Only it didn’t happen.
In the tense silence, the only sound was my teeth chattering in the cold. There were no footsteps, no labored breaths besides my own.
Anxiety made my words tight. “He was right behind me.”
The officer I’d collided with raised his weapon. He took one cautious step toward the corner, and then another. His stocky frame swung around it, disappearing beyond the building edge. My lungs refused to work as we waited.
But there were no gunshots.
No sounds of a struggle.
“It’s clear,” a voice finally called out, and the officer before me relaxed his grip on his gun.
I clenched my teeth to stifle the scream I wanted to unleash. My encounter with Seth had been terrifying, but I couldn’t imagine anything worse than him on the loose.
3
JASON
I wanted to be anywhere other than the FBI office at whatever the fuck time it was, shaking hands with Agent in Charge Miller. I’d only worked with Miller once before, and he was a decent enough guy for a Fed, but the FBI was going to drag its feet on this case, guaranteed. The Department of Justice had authorized protective detail with lightning-fast speed, and they didn’t move quickly unless the case involved some major collar.
I didn’t get calls for protection services anymore, and certainly not for women. Usually, they assigned a female primary for that. Was this the reward for my bad behavior on the Nelson case? That I had to watch over a stripper?
Wait, was that how my boss had described her?
He’d said she was a dancer who’d witnessed a murder.
A collar this big, it had to be another drug deal gone bad, probably some VIP from one of the cartels. Without any details, the only thing I could bring to the meeting was a set of assumptions.
This woman didn’t look like I’d expected, though, which should have been my first clue. She was more like a girl, really. There weren’t any visible tattoos or heavy makeup. No low-cut clothes or cheap jewelry. Her wavy, dark blonde hair fell a few inches past her shoulders and framed a pretty face above the developing bruises around her neck. She was pale, with sunken eyes like she’d been through the wringer last night.
Despite that, she was striking, and a magnetic pull kept drawing my gaze back to her.
The girl sat alone in the bland conference room with her glassy-eyed gaze fixed on me through the window. It made me uncomfortable, and I did not like the feeling. I forced my attention away from her and back to Miller.
“Because I’m feeling generous,” I said, “or more likely, because I’m not completely awake yet, I’ll give you five more minutes with her.”
“What a guy.” Miller’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
The Fed wasn’t too happy I’d shown up to poach his case, and it was hard to blame the guy. But I ignored him, breezed through the door, and extended my hand to the woman, letting my new partner Derrick and the FBI agent file in behind.
“I’m Deputy Jason Dunn,” I said, then gestured to Derrick. “And this is Deputy Wheeler. We’re with the Marshals Service.”
She grimaced with pain as she rose to her feet and shook my hand. “Laurel Hayward.”
Her hand was warm and soft, and she withdrew it quickly, like she didn’t want to touch me any longer than necessary. Which bothered me for some fucking reason.
“Nice to meet you.” I didn’t care if it sounded hollow and all business. “We’re going to let Agent Miller finish his questioning before we move you to a temporary housing location.”
“What?” Her blue eyes filled with alarm.
“Deputy Wheeler and I are here because the DOJ requested full protection. That’s not something they’d do without good reason.”
Her expression verged on heartbreak. “What about my job?”
I’d fucked things up enough professionally, I wasn’t going to dig the hole any deeper today. I had to stay professional and keep my thoughts to myself. But it was stunning this stripper was more worried about working the pole than helping the FBI catch the son of a bitch who’d nearly killed her.
“You’re not going back to your life right now.” I didn’t bother to sugarcoat it. “Not today, and probably not for a while.”