I'm watching her through the blacked-out windows of my office when Rocky grabs her wrist as she's walking by. Before I completely lose my shit, I see her signal the closest security guard.
“Good girl,” I say, even though she can't hear me.
“Boss,” the security guard says through the com. “Dahlia requested extra eyes.”
“She's got mine,” I tell him. The extra eyes arealwaysmine.
She takes a seat at the table with three of the most volatile motherfuckers I've ever had the displeasure of knowing, and I find myself pacing my office as I keep my eyes on them.
It's nothing new for her to take a seat and strike up a conversation. It's part of the job, both as a dancer and an undercover informant. The lewd way they watch her and grab their junk like it's anything she'd want is expected. But what's not normal is the way she responds to whatever bullshit they’re spewing.
Anyone who doesn't know her as intimately as me wouldn't notice the way her body sits rigidly straight instead of the relaxed and carefree woman I've fallen even more in love with this past month. Looking closer, I notice how her lips crease as she tries to hold a smile in place of the grimace trying to take over. When her eyes pop wide in fear, my feet carry me straight to my door. Just as I reach the bottom of the stairs, Mac is in my ear.
“We've got a problem.” Mac's voice is uncharacteristically monotone, telling me this is a bigger problem than some crass conversation. “I'm on my way to your office…” His words are cut off as he opens the door at the bottom of the stairs to see me already standing there. When I try to push past him, he blocks me and nods up the stairs. “She's safe…for now. You need to see this.”
I trust Mac with my life, but I don’t trust anyone with Sloan where I can't see. When I don't turn to walk up the stairs, he pulls his phone out to show me the live feed from her pendant. She's in a private room with Slade Lockwood. A private room that wasn't booked. The volume is muted, so I can't hear what he's saying, but he doesn't look threatening in the least. He looks more like he's…pleading with her. Satisfied that she's not inimmediate danger, I turn and jog back up the stairs with Mac on my heels.
Mac keeps an eye on Sloan's live feed while I watch the footage of the conversation between her and the Hell Hounds from a few minutes ago. I watch it twice before letting out a curse.
“FUCK!” I lift a hand and run it through my hair. “It was them. They’re definitely talking about Maxine Talbot. But it's not enough for a warrant. And they were right there withmywoman. Rocky fuckingtouchedmy woman.”
“It gets worse,” Mac says as he nods toward the phone in his hand. “Slade heard the whole thing. He's on the hunt…tonight.”
The cop in me knows that vigilante justice is wrong, but the thug in me wants to cheer him on. The dominant devil inside me wants to go help him rid the world of the scum that hurt his woman. Especially the one who touched mine.
I watch as Slade walks around Sloan and she turns just in time to see him stalk out of the room. She stands still for a few seconds before I hear her take a shaky breath. The footage wobbles like she’s shaking her shoulders before the door opens and she steps out into the hallway. Instead of turning left to go back to the floor, she turns right and steps into the dressing room. She doesn’t stop at her station like I expect. When she keeps walking to the door that leads to the hallway behind the bar, I know she's coming to me.
I pass Mac's phone back to him on my way to the office door when she enters the stairway. I open the door and catch her when she launches herself into my arms.
She trembles in my arms as she buries her face in my neck.
“I've got you.” I walk to the couch and sit down with her in my lap. “You're safe.”
Instead of the terror I expect when she pulls her head back to look at me, I see her eyes filled with rage. The same rage Ifeel. And neither of us can touch the rage that must be coursing through Slade right now.
“I know who did it.” Her voice shakes with what I'm realizing is adrenaline instead of fear. “It was those guys from the Hell Hounds that attacked Maxine. And Slade knows. You have to call Captain Walsh and get a warrant. Get them before Slade kills them. He doesn't deserve to go to prison.” When I shake my head, she taps her necklace. “It's all right here! The whole conversation. You have to watch it.”
“I did.” I lift my hands to stop her from removing the necklace. “It's not enough for a warrant.”
“They can't get away with this, Dean,” she shouts as she jumps off my lap and starts pacing. “And if Slade finds them…”
“They won't get away with it,” I tell her as I stand. “I'll go after Slade. You stay here with Mac.”
When I look at Mac over her head, he nods before pulling his phone to his ear to notify the crew downstairs that we're closing early. No clean up. No restocking. Once the customers are out, the lights remain off, and the girls are escorted to their cars with the rest of the staff.
“As soon as I leave, you set the lockdown.” When Sloan balks at my words, I take her face in my hands. “Donotfight me on this, Sloan. You're on lockdown until I return. If you won't obey, I'll have Mac lock it down and revoke your access to override it.”
“You can't…”
“I can, and I will,” I say, cutting off her words. “Now, can I trust you to stay put?”
She looks to Mac for backup, but when he just shakes his head, she lets out a frustrated groan. “Fine. I'll lock it down. I'll stay put.”
“Good girl.” I lean down to kiss her briefly before walking to my desk to grab my favorite dagger and my Glock. After holstering both, I kiss Sloan again and walk out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sloan
