His hand jerks toward his sidearm.
I laugh and lean back. So jumpy. But I suppose he does think I’m here to try to kill him.
“Relax,” I say. “I’m not here for all that.” I pull out another cigarette in an effort to not pull out some zip ties. Fuck me, I’m going on a third pack.
“Well, whatever you are here for, like I said, you aren’t going to get it from me. I only take orders from my captain—not some strong arm.”
“And who do you think your captain takes orders from?” I ask, not that I plan on bringing James into this.
Detective Layton narrows his eyes. He must taste it—defeat—but man, is he trying to keep skating. It’s my fucking luck that this case would go to the one boy scout in Cloverwick.
“Marshal Wayne was one of ours,” Layton says. “I think the captain would want me to see this through.”
“I don’t think there was much camaraderie for Wayne.”
No one on the force liked the guy. He was beyond side payouts, sleazy in a way that he enjoyed the work James gave him. I mean, he didn’t even have a partner.
“That’s irrelevant.”
I snap my lighter closed, officially out of patience. “Stop digging.”
“Or what?” He rests his hand on his gun.
I grit my teeth. This shouldn’t be this hard. “Or there won’t be a thick envelope on your desk tomorrow morning.” I figure five grand should be sufficient, though I shouldn’t give this asshole anything for upsetting Kira.
“I don’t take bribes.”
“Of course you don’t.” I lift a shoulder. “It’s just an envelope.”
“Don’t want it.” He turns to look back at the street. He rolls on the balls of his heels and admires the sky. “And I would think your night would be better spent with your girlfriend.”
My instincts prickle, and I clamp down on my jaw, not liking the smug edge that’s crept into his voice. “Why’s that?”
He shrugs, mirroring me like it’s a joke, then lets a slow, knowing grin cut across his face. “Who’s to say she has much time left as a free woman?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jax
Kira Noland is pretty when she sleeps. She’s pretty all the time, even when she’s clammy and pale or angry and stubborn. She was even pretty when I held her unconscious body in my arms. But there’s something special about seeing her at peace. Her lashes rest against her cheeks, dark and soft, and the line between her brows is gone.
The doctor says the procedure went flawlessly, but that the twilight sedation would take a bit to wear off. I take this opportunity to watch her, to run my fingertips up and down her arm, to just be with her before she never wants to see my face again.
Because she’s going to hate me.
Detective Layton has something—or enough to get something. But honestly, he doesn’t need much. A judge will approve just about any warrant for a case that involves an officer. There are all types of strings that get pulled behind closed doors, and without James, there’s no way of tugging back.
I only have one option left to protect Kira. One that ensures Layton gets nothing.
But I don’t think she will forgive me.
Sighing, I drag a hand down my face. Everything in me feels the need to ask her permission, but she will only tell me no. Andwhile I can live with her hating me, I can’t live with her behind bars.
“Hunter…”
I look up. She’s awake—sort of. Her eyes are half-lidded, lashes fluttering like she’s still dreaming.
“Hey.” I sit forward in the chair I’ve been glued to for the past two hours. “You with me?”
