Convict: A Bad Boy Romance (26 page)

Interacting with your coworkers for
hours
with no underwear under your dress is decidedly less fun.

I walk toward my car and pull out my phone, googling the motels along Highway 1. Even though I secretly wonder if Stone is being a little
too
cautious — I’m a police officer, I have a gun, my house is pretty well-secured — if it makes him feel better, I don’t mind.

I’m not really paying attention as I unlock my car, looking at the website for the Lampliter Motel, trying to figure out whether we can check in at two in the morning. I toss my bag in, then get into the driver’s seat to wait for Stone, dropping my phone into my lap.

My mind is somewhere else entirely when I see motion in the rear view mirror. In a split second, something loops over my head and then cuts into my neck, pulling me back against the headrest of my seat.

I don’t even scream, it happens so fast. The only sound is my shocked gasp as adrenaline explodes through me, both hands flying to my neck, scrabbling at the thin metal wire that’s suddenly around my neck.

“Detective Rivers,” a quiet, unpleasant voice says into my ear. “You probably know what a garrote is, but in case you’re unfamiliar, I recommend you don’t struggle. This’ll take your head clean off.”

I
stand at the window
, thick plexiglass separating me from the counter on the other side, and ring the bell about thirty times.

No one shows up. I look at the clock on the wall. It’s close to two in the morning.

Get your shit tomorrow
, I think.
Just go to bed, no one’s here to deal with you.

I feel slightly guilty about asking Luna to pay for the motel room, but I’ll pay her back. She knows where I sleep, after all.

I leave through a side door marked EXIT, because even though it seems unlikely that someone will ask me to fill out paperwork, I don’t want to deal with it right now. After a moment I spot Luna’s car in the parking lot, next to a big black SUV, the only two cars in the police station parking lot.

Why do people do that?
I think.
The whole fucking lot is empty, and some asshole parked RIGHT there.

Despite everything, I feel like I’m floating as I walk toward Luna’s car. I still can’t quite believe that she’s not angry at me, or that she believes me, or that she wants to
help
me. I’m so used to lying to everyone, hiding who I really am, and going it alone that having someone really, truly on my side feels a little alien.

She’s sitting in the front seat, ready to go, and I smile and wave.

Luna doesn’t smile or wave back. It’s dark and I can’t see her face well, but I stop in my tracks, because the feeling of pure dread suddenly slams onto me like an anvil.

For another second she just stares at me, her eyes wide and shining.

Why is Luna crying?
I think frantically, frozen.
This is wrong, everything is wrong but I don’t know why or how
.

Then, two things happen at once.

I see something thin pressed into Luna’s neck, making a slight indentation in her skin.

And three men step out of the back of the black SUV. They’ve all got guns trained on me, but I’m just staring at Luna, that thin wire around her neck.

I’ve seen people garroted before, and I know how the Syndicate operates. The moment I try anything, they’ll slice her neck clean through. It barely even matters that there are three men pointing guns at me.

“Looks like we found you, Ellwood,” Hammer says.

God, I hate that name, but I don’t move. I don’t say anything. I just stare at Luna and silently hate them.

I don’t know how they knew, but they did. There’s exactly one person on this planet that I’d give myself up to save, and she’s sitting in a car with a garrote around her neck.

“I think you know how this goes from here,” he says, and nods at his two thugs. They come over and pat me down quickly, but anything I had on me is already in the police station behind bulletproof glass. They nod back at him.

“All right, let’s head out,” he says.

“Let her go,” I demand.

I have zero bargaining power right now, but I can’t just let this stand.

“You’re not in a position to ask anything, Ellwood,” Hammer says.

When the fuck did he get so well-spoken?
I wonder.

“Let her
go
,” I say.

Hammer sighs, his gun still trained on me. Then he glances at the guy in Luna’s car and motions to him. The garrote disappears from around her neck, and her hands fly to where it was, her eyes sliding closed with relief.

I swallow hard, praying they don’t try something else.

“Okay,” I say.

“Wait,” Luna says.

“What now?” Hammer asks, sounding irritated.

Two tears track down her face, and she looks over at him.

“Let me say goodbye,” she whispers, her voice strangled with tears.

I feel like an aluminum can being slowly crushed, like my heart is crumpling, watching her cry.

“Jesus,” Hammer mutters.

“Please?” she whispers, her voice nearly breaking.

He just waves with his gun. Luna gets out of the car, watching the four armed men, then walks toward me, her back to them.

The moment they can’t see it, her face changes. She’s still crying, but she’s instantly determined, her jaw flexing, her eyes flashing, and when she walks up to me, I can see that there’s something in her hand.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. I’m still facing the four men, all with guns trained on us, so there’s almost nothing I can do or say.

Luna puts her hand around the back of my head and kisses me hard. Her face is wet, but she presses herself against me, opening her mouth and pushing her tongue against mine sloppily.

Then she makes a
noise
, and in any other context it would be sexy as hell, but right now it’s just
weird
. I take the hint.

“Oooh, baby,” I growl at her, hoping that I’m doing this right.

“Oh
Stone
,” she whispers, and I wrap my arms around her, my hands on her ass. “Baby, be strong.”

She makes out with me even harder, moaning as she kisses me, my hands all over her.

Behind her, two of the guys exchange glances. Hammer sighs. Luna’s practically dry-humping me.

“God, come on,” one of them mutters, and they start looking away, like they don’t want to see this.

In a flash, Luna shoves something down the front of my pants, right into my boxers.

“Mmm,” I say, and try to turn it into, “Mmmmm.
Mmmmmm.
”

“Okay, enough,” Hammer says gruffly, and Luna pulls back, my face in both of her hands.

“Hold on, okay?” she whispers, her eyes full of tears but flashing angrily. “Just hold on.
Please
.”

“Luna, no,” I say desperately, leaning our foreheads together. “Please don’t do anything. I just want you to be safe.”

“I trusted you,” she whispers. “Now it’s your turn.”

“No,” I say. “No. Luna,
no
.”

But she steps back, her arms folded over her chest.

“Cute,” Hammer says.

He grabs me and shoves me against the side of the SUV, and I force myself not to resist as he ties my hands behind my back. Not with Luna standing behind me, a gun trained on her.

Hammer shoves me into the car headfirst, then gets into the driver’s seat. Two guys with guns pointed at me get in on either side.

I shift in my seat, trying to see Luna. The thing she put into my pants — I think it’s her phone — is still there, and I’m doing my best to keep it from being too obvious.

The moment we’re inside, we squeal out of the parking lot. I turn my head to watch Luna disappear behind me, standing in the parking lot, crying.

I feel like someone’s sliced me open and is unspooling my guts, hand over fist, with every foot we drive.

Don’t do anything
, I think as we go around a corner and she disappears.
Just let me go. I was bad for you to start with.

“Cute girl,” Hammer says, like we’re having a conversation.

“Fuck you,” I spit.

Hammer sighs.

T
he SUV goes around a corner
, and then I’m alone in the police station parking lot, crying and shaking, my whole body trembling like there’s an earthquake only under me.

For the first time in my life, I’m glad I cry when I’m furious. I didn’t mean to, but I think the waterworks made me seem like some pathetic girl trying to say goodbye to her boyfriend, like I just wanted one last kiss before he got taken away to—

You are not thinking like that
, I tell myself.
Like hell is this goodbye.

I take a deep breath and force myself to stop shaking, stop crying, and get a grip, because the time for hysterics is over. I grab my purse and make a beeline for the police station, already digging through my wallet for the card that Patricia, the agent who works on organized crime cases, gave me.

This is fucking unbelievable, and it makes me angry beyond belief that what Stone is being punished for is the thing he did
right.
He probably saved hundreds of lives by stopping a human trafficking ring, only to have them track him down like an animal.

There’s no way I’m letting this happen. No
fucking
way.

* * *

T
he rookie waves again
, looking puzzled as I walk to my desk and pick up the landline, since my cell phone is jammed down Stone’s pants. I start my computer, dial Patricia’s number, and hold my breath as it rings.

Please pick up
, I think, as my desktop comes to life slowly.
Please pick up. I don’t have much of a backup plan.

After seven rings, there’s a click, then a long pause.

Then a woman clears her throat on the other end.

“This is Patricia Dunbar,” says a sleep-clogged voice.

“Hi, I’m Detective Luna Rivers with the Tortuga Police Department,” I say. “We met at the law enforcement mixer on Friday. I had the arson case that you thought might be related to organized crime.”

She clears her throat again.

“Yes, I remember,” she says.

I take a deep breath.

“You were right, and I know this is a bad time, but I really need your help,” I say.

I hear rustling in the background, like she’s getting out of bed.

“What’s going on?” Patricia asks.

* * *

W
hen I hang
up the phone, my palms are still sweating but I feel nearly boneless with relief. The rookie is sitting on Batali’s desk, wide-eyed, obviously listening in. Not that I care. As we’re saying our goodbyes, she walks off to the back.

On my computer screen, while I was talking, I pulled up the GPS tracker and traced my phone. I hate watching the red dot moving along the map on the screen, but I know I’d hate it more if it stopped moving. If it’s moving, at least it’s still with Stone and I know where he is.

I
want
to get in a squad car and chase him down. I want to go in, guns blazing, and kill every one of those motherfuckers who think they can hurt Stone for doing something
right
.

But I don’t. There’s four of them and one of me, and if they’d wanted him dead right away, they’d have killed him before they left the parking lot. I don’t know how much time we’ve got, but it’s at least some.

The rookie comes back, carrying a pile of clothes, and hands them to me. I just look at her questioningly.

“You can’t wear a dress to kick down doors, and I think we’re about the same size,” she says matter-of-factly. “I keep street clothes in my locker, just in case.”

I take the jeans and t-shirt from her.

“It’s Miranda, right?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says, and smiles.

“Thanks,” I say.

“We’re gonna make those guys wish they’d never
heard
of Tortuga,” she says, very seriously.

I
like
her.

While I’m waiting for Patricia to get here, I go get Stone’s stuff from Property.
Finally
wearing underwear again, I use Stone’s phone to call Tony and tell him what’s happened. He’s not happy, but he agrees to help, and I don’t really care how anyone feels right now.

Then I call Batali. I call my sergeant, Pushton. The red dot on the screen heads toward the Los Gatos National Forest, so I call Cedar and wake him up. Before I know it, police officers are trickling in.

Tony shows up, wearing khakis, a tucked-in polo shirt, and a huge gun on his hip. Patricia Dunbar shows up and immediately starts organizing people with the help of a giant whiteboard. Batali and Sergeant Pushton get there.

Batali puts one hand on my shoulder and looks at me, questioningly.

I nod. She nods. We look at the red dot on the screen. It’s stopped moving, stuck in the middle of a dirt road in the national forest, and my heart squeezes in my chest.

Just go,
I think wildly, staring at the dot stuck on the screen
. What if you’re too late? What if he’s dead right now, and it’s because you spent too long putting together some bullshit plan?

This is your fault
.

I ball my hands into fists so hard my fingernails cut into my palms.

If I’d gone alone we’d both be dead
, I tell myself.
Those motherfuckers think they can hunt people down and kill them in cold blood.

Fuck no. I’m coming for them.

And I’m bringing the cavalry.