Page 123 of Stolen for Keeps
NOAH
Maya sat cross-legged on the rug, sorting through a pile of mismatched socks. Reko was right beside her, his tail sweeping the floor, his nose nudging a neon green sock every time she looked away. Each time she tried to set it aside, he’d shove it back into the pile.
“You’re not helping,” she told him.
He flopped onto his belly with a theatrical sigh, then nudged her elbow. The moment she gave in, he rolled onto his back, paws in the air, belly up and proud. A new trick from the once-feral wanderer. Maybe he’d been sneaking late-night reruns ofThe Dog Whispererwhen no one was looking.
I leaned against the doorframe with my arms crossed, watching them fondly. This was exactly what I’d pictured for myself, domestic and settled. Stupidly beautiful.
Then Dom rang.
I stepped out to the porch to take it. “Talk to me.”
“Hey, I was just about to head back to LA,” he said, his tone clipped. “Look, that detective, he was back in town with an officer.”
Not good.
Dom continued, “I overheard them talking. They said they were ready to pounce?—”
I hit the speaker button. “Maya’s here.”
“—that damn moose cunt.”
The words exploded through the speaker just as I pressed the button.
Beside me, Maya went still.
“What? You put me on speaker?” Dom cursed. “Ah, shit. Sorry if you heard that, Maya.”
She lifted a shoulder, casual as hell, but I caught her simmering fury.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Pretty clear they weren’t talking about the animal migrating from Yellowstone to the Tetons. I’ve been called worse.”
Dom sighed. “Still disgusting. And I apologize. Once a slanted cop, you don’t go back to trusting them.”
I barely heard him. Rage burned, blistering through muscle and bone.
“Hate to say it, but they looked pretty damn relaxed,” Dom muttered. “When cops smile like that, it usually means they’ve got something.”
Maya bolted.
Straight into the bedroom.
“Maya!” I was already moving, striding after her. “Hey, I’ve gotta go,” I told Dom.
“I’m on my way,” he replied.
I found her in the bedroom, digging through her bag. When her fingers closed around the necklace, she pulled it free.
“I’m gonna come clean,” she said. “Dom’s right. Harlow has something. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be back.”
There’s that eerie, detached calm that didn’t belong here.
Like she hadn’t just been targeted by a dirty cop.
Like we weren’t standing on the edge of something that could take us all down.
I dragged a hand down my face, the weight of it all pressing deep into my bones. “No.”
