Page 83 of Waging War
Hazel’s touch is light against the bumpy scars on my back. “I’m coming with you.”
“Absolutely not. You’ll only be a distraction to Ben or get yourself killed.”
Her yellow-gray eyes ignite. Every step is calculated as she steps toward Jackie.
“Hazel,” I warn, but she’s having none of it.
He remains unmoving as she raises the tip of her blade to the end of his nose. “I believe you misunderstood me,mayor.I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Fine,” he grunts, moving for the door. “But if you end up dead, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
A burst of cold air rushes in before the door shuts behind him with aclick.
Hazel turns to me, triumphant. She’s frighteningly cute with that homicidal gleam in her eyes.
I smooth my thumb over her brow before tracing her pink lips with the pad. “I want you there, but only if you agree to stay in the truck. There’s no telling what Bruce has planned, and after what happened to Lucky’s, I won’t risk him seeing you alive.”
Her jaw sets at my request, but by some miracle, she nods.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
We pull into the precinct thirty minutes later, and the parking lot is surprisingly barren with only two squad cars out front.
“Where is everyone?” Hazel asks.
Sweat slicks my palms when I put the truck into park. “Maybe they’re out on calls?”
It doesn’t seem likely, but I refuse to believe that Bruce has found out about Sasha, and I’m about to walk in here and find her tied up with a pistol to her head—or worse, dead.
I reach for my gun and unholster it before placing it in Hazel’s hand. “If anyone attempts to get you out of this car, shoot first, ask questions later.”
Hazel nods. “Got it.”
“That’s my girl.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. Even if I could take it back, nothing would change the cold hard truth that she ismine.
Reluctantly, I slide out of the truck and follow Jackie toward the front doors of the PD and into the eerily quiet front lobby.
Unease has the hairs on my arms raising. It’s early in the morning, but not a soul loiters through the hollow room.
“I don’t know about this, Jackie.”
Low murmuring voices sound from the back, but I can’t make out anything they’re saying. Our heels tap against the marble floor, echoing throughout. The only light I see comes from the back hall.
He gestures to the disarmed metal detector. “This way.”
We’ve just stepped through to the other side when a tall, lanky figure steps out of the shadows.
“Gentlemen,” a man in uniform greets us. Zeroing in on the name tag on his breast pocket, my suspicions are confirmed.
“Mike,” Jackie says informally to Barron’s deputy.
There’s a stiffness in his shoulders and a twitch in his eye that has my mind reeling. A cold sensation slithers down my spine when he says, “Follow me.”
Exiting the hall into an open workroom, we cross a room full of desks toward the chief’s office. Bruce is perched on the corner of Barron’s desk with one foot on the ground and the other swinging back and forth. His beady eyes shine with what can only be described as ominous glee.
I glance at the chief, thankful that Sasha is nowhere in sight. He stares straight ahead, sweating profusely, but his eyes are hard as granite.
