1
GARETH
I’m startingto go numb.
When I first became a cop, I was driven. Nothing could get in my way. I wanted to bring bad men to justice. Put as many of them behind bars as possible.
And I did it. I rose like a star. Became the youngest detective in my precinct. People started talking about me being the new captain.
And then ‘the incident’ happened, and I’ve been put on traffic duty while they investigate.
Can you believe that? Me. The new police hotshot with a flawless case record, pulling people over for speeding and administering field sobriety tests.
What a waste of my time.
A Jeep filled with a bunch of rowdy guys zips by. They’re cheering like hyenas, celebrating a football or basketball victory. I could pull them over, but what’s the point? Spend the next ten minutes giving them a talking-to and then have to deal with their obnoxious parents?
No thanks.
I sit back, watch them fade into the darkness, then go back to my coffee, which has been sitting so long it might as well be iced. It tastes like mud mixed with battery acid, but I need something to keep me awake through these tedious nights.
I raise the Styrofoam cup to my lips to take a sip, but something catches my attention.
A girl’s gorgeous face, speeding past me.
Something sparks in my heart, and I have to grasp the steering wheel as a forgotten feeling zaps through me. It’s been a long time since I felt anything other than boredom. Other than rage.
Who are you, angel?
She looks like a model at the wheel of an old sedan. A Honda that looks like it’s held together with tape and glue, rattling by me at forty in a twenty-five.
I barely catch a glimpse of her face, but it’s enough to captivate me. There’s something sweet in her expression. So determined. So soft. Everything I am not.
Normally, I’d give someone speeding like that a pass. But not this one. Not her.
I hit the lights and sirens and pull out after her. My chest heaves as I gasp short, desperate breaths. No way am I letting a girl who can get me feeling this way get away.
Who are you, angel?
Protocol says I’m supposed to call this in. All traffic stops must be called back in to dispatch. But as I reach for the radio, I’m shocked to find my hand is shaking. Even my skin is hot.
What the hell is happening to me?
The Honda slowly pulls over, and I park behind her, staring at the back of her head. Part of me hopes she’ll be an obnoxious brat. Then I can go back to my normal life of dull indifference.
But what if she isn’t?
I grit my teeth and exit the car.
My muscles are tense as I walk up and rap my knuckles on her window. The glare from my flashlight obscures my view, but when she rolls the window down…
Then.Thenshe looks up at me, and I start praying for strength.
Her beauty is overwhelming. Flawless, wide-eyed, and innocent. Her petite frame has me clenching my fists at my sides.
Christ, I want to fuck her. Right here. Right now. Bend her over the trunk and ruin her.
My vision narrows, blurring out the blue and red flicker from my lights as I focus on her. Nothing but her exists. Not my ticket book. Not my investigation. Justher.
