“Don’t talk,” I growled.
With the windows down, wind buffeted us from all sides at highway speeds. It helped with the smell of dog shit.
“That beardy tattoo guy looked like he was going to rip my arms off and beat me to death with them. I thought he was going to break the glass just to get to me.”
As predicted, Knox had not been happy. First with me for allowing Naomi and Sloane to talk me into bringing them along, then with Naomi and Sloane for deliberately putting themselves in harm’s way, and finally with Melvin for smashing my face.
I hadn’t taken a good look in the mirror yet, but judging from Knox’s reaction and the hot, swollen feeling under my eye, I guessed I didn’t look so great.
“That’s how he usually looks,” I assured him.
“He blamed me for your face. Can you believe that? I didn’t hit you,” Melvin scoffed.
“Your flailing elbow did.”
“Your face hit my flailing elbow. I’m probably going to have a bruise too.”
I pushed down on the accelerator and hoped the responding roar of rpms would drown out my passenger. The sooner I could turn this guy in, the sooner I could go ice my entire body.
“I’ll be sure to send a doctor to your cell,” I said dryly.
“Where are you taking me?”
“The Knockemout Police Department.” It wasn’t ideal, but FTAs needed to be handed over to police custody, and Knockemout was the closest fully staffed department. Also, I may have called ahead to give them a heads-up…and to make sure that Nash was off tonight.
The last thing I needed was a run-in with him.
“Can we at least listen to some music?” Melvin grumbled.
“Yes, we can.” I turned up the stereo and took the exit for Knockemout.
We were two miles from town limits when red and blue lights lit up my rearview mirror.
I glanced down at the speedometer and winced.
“Ha! Busted,” my passenger snickered.
“Shut up, Melvin.”
I pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, put my hazard lights on, and dug out my registration by the time the officer got to my window.
When Nash Morgan shined his flashlight in my eyes, I knew this was not my night.
TWENTY-FIVE
SPEEDING TICKET
Nash
“Get out of the car.”
“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” she muttered, gripping the wheel.
“Get. Out. Of. The. Car. Angelina,” I ordered through gritted teeth.
“Help! This woman kidnapped me!” the idiot in the back seat shouted.
“Shut up, Melvin,” Lina snapped.
I yanked open her door. “Don’t fuck with me, Angel.”
She released her seat belt and stepped out of the car and into my body. I knew better. Knew I couldn’t trust myself this close to her. But hadn’t it already been a foregone conclusion when Grave had filled me in on the situation?
Somehow I’d known it would end like this.
“Are you gonna back up or just stand here and crowd me all night?” she hissed, doing her best to stand defiantly in front of me and still shrink away from making any physical contact. That killed me.
Her jeans were torn on one knee. There was dirt all over her sweater and jacket. And I thought I caught a hint of a limp. But it was her face that sent my blood pressure skyrocketing.
“He do this?” I demanded, gripping her chin and tilting her head so I could see the bruising. Anger was a living thing under my skin. It ate at me and took every ounce of control not to unleash.
She reached up and gripped the wrist of the hand that held her face, but I didn’t let go. “The only thing he’s guilty of besides hacking into state databases is having pointy elbows.”
“Why are you bringing in an FTA?”
She rolled her eyes insolently. “Can we skip over the part where you pretend to care so I can be on my way? I’ve had a long day.”
“Don’t listen to her! I didn’t skip out on bail! I was innocently walking home from reading to shelter dogs when she tackled me in an alley and threatened me,” her passenger whined.
“Shut up, Melvin,” Lina and I said in unison.
I pulled her around the trunk of her car and took inventory of her in my headlights. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” The bruising under her cheek was ugly and swollen. I hated it with every fiber of my being.
She batted my hands away. “Is this part of all traffic stops now?”
Having her this close wasn’t just frying my circuits. It was destroying them.
The anger that bubbled up inside wanted to claw its way out of my throat and let itself loose on the world. I wasn’t cold now. I wasn’t empty now. I was a volcano about to erupt.
“It was an accident.” Lina’s tone was calm, almost bored. Her voice was a beautiful poison in my veins.
“You said you recovered assets, not hunted down people,” I reminded her.
“I do. So before you call me a liar again, someone called in a favor. Not that it’s any of your business.”
She kept saying things like that. Things that were technically true.
But despite the fact that I was furious with her, that I’d insisted I was done with her, I needed to know she was okay. I needed to know what had happened. I needed to fucking take care of it.
She was my business and I wasn’t done with her. I was just getting started. I accepted the truth, pretending that I had a choice.
“Who called in a favor? Who asked you to do this?”
“Jesus, Nash. Relax. No laws were broken and your sister-in-law and friend—despite being drunken pains in the ass who refused to follow orders—are safe. Knox picked them up and drove them home.”
“I realize that.” The fact that my brother thought it wise to leave Lina alone to handle a criminal on her own was another issue that was going to have to be raised. Most likely with fists.
Fuck.
The emotions she raised in me were dangerous. Gone was the even-keeled lawman with a badge. Gone was the empty shell of a man. In his place was a fire-breathing dragon that wanted to lay waste to everything.
I wondered if this was how Knox felt most of the time.
I reached out and cupped her chin again, angling her beautiful face so I could examine the bruising. Touching her, even just like this, lit something inside me.
“You need ice.”
“I’d get to it faster if you weren’t holding me up.”
I blew out a bad-tempered breath. “Get him out of the car.”
“What?”
“Get him out of the car,” I said, enunciating slowly.
“Oh no. I’m not falling for that. I’m driving this ass’s ass to the station and getting a receipt. Then he’s all yours.”
“I don’t want you transporting him,” I said. A wave of possessiveness washed away all rational thought. I didn’t care. I just needed her safe and close.
“I don’t give a shit what you want,” she snarled.
“I’ll give a shit enough for the two of us. Get his ass out of your car.”
She crossed her arms. “No.”
“Fine.” I stepped back and started to round the car. “I’ll do it.”
She grabbed my arm and I reveled in the touch. “You take another step near my FTA and I’ll…”