Page 29 of Hell In A Handbasket
His mission is to stop shit from escalating.
Shaking my head, I bring my focus back around and cling to Raquel for sense. “Explain this to me. Because I don’t often arrive at a scene and have such little understanding of what the hell is going on.”
“I can tell.” She twines the loose bikini string around her finger. “So my name is Raquel…”
A ferocious snarl escapes my lips.
“Shorter version? Okey dokey! This is Eliza—she’s my baby sister.” Then she looks at Eliza and points at Cato. “That’s Cato Malone. He’s a flirt and, turns out, tried his luck with a world champ.”
“World champ?” Cato questions. “World champ, what?”
“Fighter, you dipshit.” Eliza grinds her heel into his wrist. “You know my sister? And you still thought it was cute to touch without permission?”
“I was only gonna tell you I liked your hair.” He wiggles his fingers, smirking. “It’s a move. Tried and tested.”
“I’m not a woman who accepts tried and tested bullshittery. And you were doing so well, too.” She lifts her foot and takes a step back, folding her arms and watching him with dripping disdain as he crawls to his hands and knees. Then to his feet. “You’re cute. Confident. Loud. I like that shit.”
The boy has no shame. No embarrassment. He straightens his shirt and sidles in closer again. “You like me?”
“No!” She shoves him back and, I swear to God, stands the way I know fighters stand. Left leg forward, right leg back. She brings her hands up and prepares to shatter his eye socket. “The fact you know my sister at all is the only reason you live.”
“Why are you even here?” Frustrated, I wrap my hand around Raquel’s wrist and spin her back to me. “Make it make sense!”
“I already put the paperwork on your desk. Twice!” She laughs. “And I reminded you yesterday.AndI emailed you this morning, since I figured you were in the office and couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t there.”
“I remembered. You’re off for the weekend, for some wedding in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yup!” She gestures along the empty street. “The middle of nowhere.”
“This is your town?” I look left, past the diner… the bakery… a drugstore… then I look right and spy a bookstore… a grocery store… and a little ride-on toy horse with a little kid, three or four years old, happily riding it. “What?”
“You got an invitation to the wedding, too?”
“No! I got a case.”
“We got a DB out here?” From playful to… well, still playful, she inches closer. “Who died? Was it Barbara? She’s old and bitchy as hell, so?—”
“I don’t know who died! I’m trying to figure it out.”
“What are the chances your case would be in the same town as this delicious specimen?” Cato bites his lip and looks a ferocious Eliza up and down. “Your rage is hot.”
“Dude!” Raquel smacks the side of his face. “No.”
Fury bubbles in my blood, warming my veins and curling my fingers, and because I’m not accustomed to looking stupid for long, I turn on my heels and leave this family drama to deal with itself.
I have my own. “Sophia Solomon!” I stomp across the street and slam the diner door open, so when Kane, Jay, and Corey create a wall of muscle that separates me and their overlord, which brings Archer, Tim, and Felix forward to allow me the same protection, it all makes so much more sense.
“What did you do, Sophia?”
She fists her burger and fills her mouth.
I push Archer aside and slip between Sophia’s crew, and snatching her plate, I tear the burger from her hands and slap it down again. “What are you doing?”
“Why are you so angry?” Maddeningly calm, she sips her shake instead. “You’re making a scene, Chief Mayet. It’s unprofessional.”
“Who is the DB, Sophia?” I whip the file open and slap the most frustrating image down where her burger was a moment ago. The one with the fucking registerable knee replacement. “Who is she? What game are you playing?”
“Alright. Fine.” Carefully, she sets her shake down and raises both hands in surrender. “Don’t be mad.”
