Page 46 of Thunder with a Chance of Lovestruck

Nile watched the interaction with keen interest as the guards tried to lead him from the courtroom. The smile he gave said he was more than pleased with the outcome and that this was the reaction he’d been hoping for.

Chaos.

Goodfellow slid an arm around my waist, and Drest’s gaze snapped to the act. Goodfellow paid him no mind. Instead, he tugged me closer. “Are you all right? That was a lot to deal with.”

“A drop in the bucket, really,” I said with a shaky laugh only then realizing the glass had come dislodged from my hand and I was bleeding everywhere.

He took off his tie and wrapped it around my hand firmly yet gently. “Let’s go.”

Rhys approached as well. “The exit to the car is clear. Goodfellow, is the plan still the same? You want to take her to that restaurant you rented out fully so you can have alone time with her?”

Wait. What?

“You’re planning to take her on a date?” demanded Drest, glaring at Goodfellow.

I waited for Goodfellow to clarify that he wasn’t planning that. Instead, Goodfellow surprised me by ignoring Drest. He led me toward the door, but Drest stepped in our path.

“I asked you a question,” said Drest sternly.

Goodfellow laughed. “I don’t answer to you, Detective Bright. Never have.Neverwill.”

“Rhys?” asked Drest, looking irate.

Rhys shrugged. “I’m not getting in between you two over this. I’m going to get Rachael’s hand looked at by a doctor and then try to figure out who knew our game plan for today. No one should have been able to get the jump on me.”

Goodfellow drew me closer to him. “And I want to know how it is Nile’s cuffs melted away the way they did and how it was he came to be alone in here with Rachael. Had Drest not lost his mind, shouting about her being afraid and in danger, none of us would have known what was happening. Nile could have killed her. I think we all know he’s more than capable of murder.”

How had Drest sensed I was afraid and in danger? And how had I missed the fact he was a jerk?

ChapterSixteen

Drest

Ten months later…

Drest exited the New York Nightshade Building and headed down the block, wanting to walk off some of his frustration. He’d been forced to sit through yet another meeting revolving around how much he’d dropped the ball on the Frankenstein family. To hell with the fact Nile had clearly been neck deep into bad shit under his last Hunter’s watch, or that the trial wrapped up ten months prior.

It was yesterday’s news everywhere except with the Nightshade Clan.

No one seemed to care that Drest had been handed the issue in the eleventh hour. No. It was easier to use him as a scapegoat. Why on earth would they ever think to blame the last guy? Especially since the last guy had his head wedged up the higher-ups’ asses. Why blame their golden boy when Drest was there to take the fall?

He grunted, fighting the urge to turn around and go back into the building so he could finish what he’d started—rearranging an asshole’s face. He made it a few more paces before Stratton caught him by the arm.

“Slow down. We’re not running a marathon,” said Stratton.

Drest kept walking fast. “I’m so done with those assholes.”

“I hear you,” said Stratton, keeping pace. “Ignore them. Gil is jealous because he’s never had a charge that wasn’t a complete bore. Think about it. He’s never handled a high-profile charge before. He pretty much pushes pencils. That’s all. Let him say what he wants.”

Gil had spent the last two hours giving a presentation featuring all the highlights of the Frankenstein case and everywhere Drest had screwed up along the way. When the overhead projector he was using showed an image of Rachael as she exited the courthouse, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, Drest’s temper flared. Especially when Gil had laughed and used a pointer to tap Rachael’s projection, as his shadow, Farin, let the entire room know how sexy he found her to be, even if, according to Gil, she was no doubt the next criminal mastermind in the family.

Several other men, all of whom ran with Gil and Farin, had begun making lewd comments about Rachael and what they’d do to “punish” her, and Drest had shut off. One second, he’d been in his seat in the audience, taking his licks, and the next second, he’d been up and over several rows of chairs, pounding on Farin.

It had taken multiple men to pull him away from the guy.

“Want to talk about what happened back there?” asked Stratton as they pushed through the thick throng of people on the sidewalk. “I mean, yeah, I got there late and missed the presentation, but what I saw when I walked in was kind of intense. Why were you beating the shit out of someone? What happened?”

“Same old same old,” said Drest, wanting a change of subject.

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