Page 129 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“You never were good at this job,” he blustered. “We both know this case is full of massive holes. So you can either let me go now or watch me walk out of a courtroom in a year or two when all this bullshit evidence blows up in your face.”
Mila stiffened next to me, and I held her close.
“Put your hands up,” Parker said, taking a step closer without lowering her weapon. “God, you’re insufferable. Guess I should have learned my lesson back when you were the world’s shittiest boyfriend. Now you’ve upped the ante and had to be a dirty criminal too.”
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“Nah, I’m good. And trust me, when my head hits the pillow every night from now on, I’ll sleep well knowing how they treat cops in prison.” She smirked. “Now get up. If I shoot you in the head, it’ll mean more paperwork for me.”
I pulled Mila’s shaking body close. She was crying, her hands twisted in the fabric of my jacket. But she was safe. That was all that mattered.
Parker lifted the radio strapped to her shoulder without taking her gun off Portnoy. “Bring my Tahoe around. I’ve got a VIP criminal here who needs a ride to the station.”
It was satisfying, watching Parker cuff Portnoy and shove him by the head into her vehicle while gleefully reading him his Miranda rights. But the sensation paled in comparison to having my girl in my arms. She might have been a bit bruised, but she was okay.
“You need a medic,” Parker said, nodding at my leg. “You got shot.”
Frowning, I looked down at my bloodstained jeans. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the relief of knowing Mila was safe, but I had barely felt anything. I touched the area, and it burned. Shit, I guess I really had been shot.
Mila gasped and pulled away, clapping her hands to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears again. “Oh my God. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“I’ll have someone take you straight away. We’ll be here cleaning up this mess for a while,” Parker said, radioing one of her deputies.
With my arm around Mila again, I limped around the side of the building to where the police were taking photos and loading dozens of people into cars.
The warehouse was even bigger up close, and it was filled with giant pallets wrapped in plastic. “You know,” Parker mused, “I expected the shitload of drugs. The illegal weapons are just icing on the cake. The ATF guys are gonna have a field day when they get here.”
She opened the back door of a black SUV. “Office Fielder here will stabilize the wound and then get you to the hospital.”
“Thank you.” I nodded at Parker as Mila tried to force me into the vehicle.
The last thing I wanted was to let go of her. Fielder was a good guy and I trusted him, but all I wanted was to go home and take my girl with me.
“Looks like you got grazed,” he said, applying a clotting agent to the wound once he and Mila had finally talked me into climbing in. “You did good, son. Heard you charged at a gunman like a crazed bull.”
I laughed, though the pain that rocketed through me had me biting back the sound. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, I was fading fast.
Once he’d bandaged the wound, he closed the door and rounded the hood.
Tucked safely in the back of the car, I closed my eyes. It was over. Mila was safe.
“I love you,” she whispered, her head on my chest. “But did you seriously run at a guy with a gun? That was really stupid, you know.”
“It was teamwork,” I said. “You grabbed his arms so he couldn’t shoot me.”
“You saved me.”
I kissed the top of her head. “We saved each other, Trouble.”
Chapter42
Mila
We spent the night at the hospital. Jude got stitches and a heavy dose of antibiotics, and when we were finally left alone, I curled up in the bed next to him. We were filthy and exhausted, but for the first time in hours, I could finally draw a full breath.
The bullet had grazed his thigh, causing minimal damage. But he’d need to rest for a while and would likely need a little physical therapy.
Curled up on his chest, I tried to wrap my mind around the events of the day. I’d thought of nothing but this trafficking ring and avenging my brother for so long. I’d lived as Amy. I’d quit my job and given up my entire life. And as good as it felt to see all those guys arrested, to know that I’d done my part to take them down, there was still a gnawing emptiness in my gut.
