Page 33 of Claimed By the Deputies

“A decent one, I promise. We just want the name of your supplier and anyone else within your network.”

Stuart wavers for a moment. “Why should I believe you?” he asks, defeat ringing loudly in his words. I’m holding on to his arm, trying to keep him from crushing my windpipe.

“Did you know Tyler is an expert marksman?” I ask Stuart. “I’m sure you’re aware of their previous career with the Army Rangers. Look at how steady he’s holding that gun. It’s pointed right at your forehead.”

“He wouldn’t risk it.”

“Don’t be so sure. I’ve got a clear shot,” Tyler says confidently, a muscle twitching furiously in his jaw.

“Tell us who’s providing you with the drugs and you get to live,” I say. “Be smart about this. There’s no other way out.”

“I want a good deal,” he says. “No jail time.”

When he moves to adjust his hold on me, I elbow him in the ribs. He grunts from the pain and lets go. Immediately, I drop to my knees.

Tyler moves in like a panther.

“Wait, no!” Stuart tries to stop him, but Tyler swiftly disarms him.

By the time I’m back on my feet, knees shaking, adrenaline coursing through my body, Stuart is on his belly, hands cuffed behind his back.

Tyler searches his pockets and produces a handful of small plastic bags, each loaded with cocaine, ready for sale. “Would you look at that,” he says, giving me a broad smile. “You were wrong. No strawberry shortcakes, but plenty of New York cheesecakes instead.”

“Are you okay?” Mitch steps to my side, gently holding me by the shoulders.

“I am now,” I tell him, then glance at Tyler. “Thanks to him.”

“He was never going to hurt you,” Tyler says.

I scowl. “Really? I could feel his tension, his fear.”

“He’s right,” Stuart mumbles from the floor. “I wouldn’t have hurt you.”

Tyler flips the revolver’s barrel open. “See? No bullets.”

I gasp, staring at the empty holes in the cylinder. “Son of a…”

I’m about to kick Stuart in the gut with a Converse sneaker when Tyler smoothly pulls me away. Mitch helps Stuart off the floor, weaving his way through the gathering crowd of curious onlookers.

“Nothing to see here, folks,” Mitch says, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“That bastard,” I snarl as Tyler holds me tight and close.

“He scared the shit out of you, I get it,” he says quietly. “But I promise you were safe the whole time. Even if the gun was loaded, I never would’ve given him a second to pull the trigger. I was ready to kill him.”

It’s a startling yet oddly reassuring thing to hear.

I turn my head slowly and our eyes meet. Warmth spreads through my body as I relax in his firm, protective hold. I can smell the aftershave on his jaw, can see the fire burning in the caramel green pools of his eyes.

I am mesmerized.

It’s going to be hard working so up close and personal with these men.

Sitting in Lucas’s office,I’m finally able to find some peace and quiet after a rather eventful day. I keep going back to the incident with Stuart, wondering if I should’ve done things differently.

Lucas comes in and closes the door behind him. The blinds are closed on the window that gives him a full view of the bullpen. We have complete privacy and it feels nice.

“How are you holding up?” he asks.

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