“He can help us,” she pleads. “Please.”
I sigh. She’s right. If he’s after the same bastards we are, we’re better off working together.
Before I can open my mouth in agreement, a loud pop echoes through the warehouse, and a bullet whizzes past my head and slams against the concrete wall behind me. I duck, and Divine does the same as more bullets lodge above our heads. We crawl to the corner behind a metal machine.
“What’ the fuck?” Is all I can say before Detective Dalton comes skidding around the corner and covers my body with his.
“Stay down.” His voice is a growl.
“Fuck no.” I shove against his chest. Solid muscle. “I’m killing those bastards.”
“Would it kill you to listen?” Dalton’s breath brushes my ear. I shiver. Fucking traitor body.
“It’ll kill me either way. At least I’d go down on my terms and no one else's.”
The gunshots stop. Gunpowder and metallic fill the air.
Detective Dalton peeks his head up, pushing his hips into mine. And that is definitely a bulge pushing between my open thighs. He looks around the machine we’re hiding behind before pushing his body off mine.
I crawl out from under him and pull out my gun, aiming it in the direction the gunshots came from. I’m heading to the other side of the machine when a loud pop echoes above my head. Iclose my eyes, waiting for the pain, but nothing comes. When I open my eyes, a male body drops right beside me with a bullet between his eyes.
Slowly turning my head, I find Divine still crouched, but her mouth is hanging open in shock. She’s staring at Detective Dalton. He has risen to his full height with his .45 Caliber aimed at his target.
I release a shuddering breath, but movement behind Dalton catches my eye. My instincts take over. I raise my gun, and before the bastard can make a move, I pull the trigger. The crack of the shot echoes in the warehouse. The man behind Dalton drops, a clean bullet hole between his eyes.
Dalton’s head whips toward me, but I don’t give him a chance to react. I brush the dirt off my jeans and meet his gaze with a smirk. “Now we’re even.”
“Calypso, we have to go. Now.” Divine is on her feet, urgency in every line of her body. She points toward the entrance we came through.
My stomach tightens. Several men all in black, black jeans, black shirts, AR-15s strapped across their chests, are stalking in our direction. We’re outgunned and outnumbered.
“Come on, this way. I think there’s an exit.” Dalton’s fingers wrap around my wrist. I hesitate for a fraction of a second before grabbing Divine’s hand, and we move.
“I swear, if this is a trap, Detective, I’ll fucking slit your throat,” I snap, heart hammering against my ribs.
“Farris.”
“What?”
“My name. If you’re going to keep threatening me, at least use my God-given name.” His voice is smooth, edged with something almost teasing. “And you’re going to have to trust me.”
My pulse stutters. Trust. That word is foreign, a twisted joke. The last man I trusted shattered me. Left scars on my body and worse ones on my soul. I clamp my mouth shut, biting back the bitter retort clawing at my throat.
We reach the back of the warehouse, and Farris shoves open a steel door. The bright L.A. sun blinds me for a moment, forcing me to blink rapidly.
“Come on, my car’s around the corner.” His grip on my wrist tightens slightly, as if he knows I’m debating running in the opposite direction.
I get my bearings and see we’re not far from where Divine and I parked our bikes. I shake off his hand and head toward them. Farris follows without question.
“If you’re going to keep up, I suggest a cage would work better than your feet.” We reach our bikes, and I straddle my Harley, the familiar weight grounding me as I strap on my helmet. I pat the back seat with a smirk. “Unless you want to ride bitch.”
Farris shakes his head. “Not happening.” He pivots toward his car, but before he can take a step, a gunshot shatters the air.
“Fuck.” I fire up my bike and lift the kickstand. “You’re out of options, Farris.” I glance back at him. “Get on, or you won’t make it to your car, let alone out of here.”
Farris hesitates. Just for a second. Then he mutters something under his breath, swings a leg over, and settles behind me.
I’ve never had anyone ride as a backpack before. It’s weird. It’s thrilling.
