He swallows, his wide eyes going to the punk kid who I can see out of the corner of my eye remains by the door with his gun pointed at me. The detective growls, “She’s a murderer.”
I don’t deny it, twisting the knife a little. “I’m going to murder you if he touches her.”
Baring his teeth, he tries to catch his breath. “Stand…down,” he tells the kid.
“But—”
“Stand down,” he shouts, and the cop puts his gun away. Everyone else keeps theirs trained at him just in case.
“Leave.” It’s Tyson who gives the order, and I yank my knife from the detective’s leg, making him grunt. It wasn’t deep enough to kill the man, but he’ll need stitches.
“Tyson—”
“We’re in the middle of an important meeting. Get the fuck out. Next time, you call and give me a heads-up before you walk into my club.” He glares at the kid. “And don’t ever come here dressed in uniform again.”
The detective squares his shoulders, and I smile down at him as I take my pocketknife’s bloody blade and run it over his white shirt, cleaning it off.
He turns and exits with a limp, the rent-a-cop slamming the door shut behind him. I close the knife and turn to face my wife. She sits in her seat, arms crossed over her chest with a look of hatred on her face like I did something wrong.
“You’re married?” Alex chuckles, his eyes falling to both of our rings. She wasn’t wearing hers when she set up that guy for Hooke. “Congrats, man,” he adds, putting his gun away.
“Thanks,” I say dryly. “It’s a blast. You should try it.”
She arches a brow at my sarcasm. I can practically see the steam rolling off her, she’s so heated.
“I can see that.” His laughter grows louder.
“You two?—”
“Don’t worry, Ty. We won’t be coming back for a while. I’m putting my wife under house arrest.”
Eve snorts like I can’t keep her in one place. The collar and chain in my basement prove otherwise.
“I guarantee he’s waiting for you guys in the parking lot. Already called in reinforcements. And probably has a roadblock set up to stop you and arrest her,” Tyson says. “You can take my car. Lake can come get me, and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
“Give me your keys.” I reach out my hand to my wife, and she digs in her clutch before tossing them at me even though my hand is right in front of her. She’s silently begging me to take my belt to her ass when we get out of here.
I bend down, pick up her keys off the floor, and hand them to Colton. “Drive her car.” Then I turn to Alex and give him mine. “Ride my bike. Keep them busy.”
“Meaning?” Alex questions for clarification.
“Slow them down. Speed them up. Anything to keep them off our asses so they don’t follow. I don’t care if you have to crash it or get arrested. I’ll pay your medical bills or bail you out.”
“Got it.” He nods and Colton just smiles.
I grab my wife’s hand, yank her from the seat, and leave the office, letting the door shut behind us.
We were able to slip into Tyson’s car and get out of there without any issues. Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling up to the motel. She gets out, slams the door, and enters room 111.
I exit much slower and check my phone to see if the guys had any problems, but I don’t have any texts or missed calls. It makes me even more nervous. Why didn’t he chase us?
This is exactly why I didn’t take us to her house or mine. I figured he might be waiting there for us.
I walk into the motel room to find her sitting on the bench. I stand in front of her, my ass resting on the dresser the TV sits on with my arms crossed over my chest. “Want to tell me what tonight was about?”
Her pretty green eyes glare up at me. “I find it hypocritical that you’re mad at me for hitting a bitch who wanted to fuck you, yet you stabbed a man who was going to touch me.”
I want to laugh at her logic but instead I explain the obvious. “One, I’m not going to fuck anyone but you. Two, he was going to arrest you. And three, I was referring to you going to Blackout tonight in the first place.”
