Page 68 of Castling the Rook (Checkmate 3)

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Riley

Kane Bishop

It’s almost like a Thanksgiving Day Parade, the way Alex and Oz escort an enraged Kane Bishop through the back dock, into my station, and toward the cages. Kane fights their hold, slamming the trio against walls and kicking out at the bars as they pass. His face is red, his eyes glittery black, and someone else’s blood remains on his cheek and shirt in stark confirmation of the reports that have been screaming over the radios for the last hour.

According to Alex, Kane shot Flynn.

Point blank.

In the fucking head!

My stomach swirls with what ifs, with what my future holds, and questions whether Kane Bishop is in fact on our side. I mean, he didn’t shoot my squad, and Flynn was a bad fucker – but Kane executing a man is against every promise we make when swearing an oath to uphold the law.

I walk laps of the station from the front electronic doors to the back of the garage while my superiors deal with Kane. Alex processes him, takes his prints, charges him with murder in the first, attempted murder of a police officer – because apparently he took a shot at my chief, too – and tacks on six thousand other charges that stretch all the way back to parking in an undesignated area, just on the off chance they might stick and add a few years to his sentence.

The roaring of Alex’s shouted demands echo through the police station. He wants answers, he wants them now, and he’s willing to downgrade Kane’s future jail sentence from a hundred years to eighty out of the pure goodness of his heart.

Basically, he’s not trading shit, and Kane’s not biting; whether it’s because he’s under orders from his guys, or just doesn’t feel like chatting, I don’t know.

Not at all detached from this case like he should be, Kane’s continued silence results in Alex losing his shit and Oz forcing him back into the hall. In direct contrast to before the drop, our phones ring non-stop now. The incessant shrilling sets me on the edge and pushes venom through my veins, because I’m fucking pissed at Kane for shooting at my boss. I’m furious with Andi for not giving a fuck about me. I hate that my boss doesn’t know Kane is on our side. And I’m enraged that Jay ran today and won’t accept anyone’s calls.

Basically, I’m straight up pissed with this whole fucking night and wish I never met a Bishop this year.

When Alex’s cell rings and he yanks it from his pocket, his eyes change. He slams it against his ear and storms away from the cages. “Jules! You better be at home, woman! I have three of his soldiers, but Hayes is still free. He’ll have a price on our heads, so you gotta be tucked away safe.”

When Oz takes out his own cell and presumably calls Lindsi, I take this window to move unnoticed and jog toward Kane’s cell. “Bishop?”

He springs from the metal bench and clutches at the bars. A silent vault in front of Alex, but desperate and unwilling to mask it in front of me. “I need my weapons, my cell, and the packet of photos Alex took from me. Let me out, give me ten minutes before Alex gets notified. That’s all I need.”

“You executed a man,” I whisper through gritted teeth. “What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?”

“You know me, Cruz. You know it was because he needed to be taken out. He’d threatened mine. He threatened Jessie.”

“Jessie? Jessie who?”

“My Jessie!” The bars rattle in his strong hands. “He has photos of Jessie, so I need them back. I need them destroyed. And I need to get to Cap. He doesn’t know I’m in here.”

“Jessie Lenaghan?” My mind crawls through mud as I try to catch up. “Jess Lenaghan is your blonde? Are you fucking insane? She’s the chief’s sister!”

“She’s mine,” he snarls. “She belongs to me, and she’s in danger. Get me the fuck out, and give me a five minute head start.”

“Cruz!”

I spring away from the cage and straighten my spine. Alex’s heavy boots stomp through the hall until our eyes meet, but because I’m that innocent puppy that no one suspects, he doesn’t question my presence. He only gestures back over his shoulder. “I’m going to the hospital to talk to Abel’s man and to check in on our officers. I want you at your desk, and I don’t want you to move a single fucking muscle. Tate’s due back any second; send her home when she does. Her shift is over. I’ll be back in an hour or so, unless Chad sells Bishop.” His eyes go to the bars, like he’s waiting for Kane to plead for leniency. “Jules is safe, but if she calls up again, tell her where I am and that she’ll be in big fucking trouble if she steps out of the house.”

Yeah. I’m not passing that on to my chief’s wife, who also happens to be a psychotic, attitude filled, cuts-a-man-down-with-her-Southern-smile, defense attorney.

“Got it?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Good. Oz, you’re with me.” They blow out of the station without all the extra hardware they left with several hours ago. They still wear their vests, but that’s only because they haven’t had time to remove them yet.

Turning back to Kane with a rapidly beating heart, I stare into his eyes and kiss my career goodbye. “Did you shoot at my boss?”

“No! I saved his stupid fucking life. He’s so stubborn and set on me being the criminal, he wouldn’t even look an inch outside of his own asshole to find Chad’s pistol pointing at his head. He’s lucky I’m not a petty prick.” His nostrils flare. “He’s lucky Jess asked me to take care of him. Now let me the fuck out, I’ve got shit to do.”

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