“Holycrap!”
Fuck.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
I’m gonna kill him.
“You slut, you fucked the cute medic!”
And hide the body.
“But wait, you’re still a grumpy asshole lately, wasn’t it good?”
My hand is already fisted into his jacket lapel before I realize that I’ve moved. “Shut your damn mouth, Mace, or I’ll grab a can of your damn namesake and douse you with it.”
Both of his hands raise, palms out defensively. “Okay, sorry. I’ll drop it.”
His cheeky grin tells me otherwise. But I let him go anyway. Inside a car isn’t exactly the place for this, especially not during a stake out.
We’re just here to monitor the abandoned office building across the street from Liv’s apartment building for possibly suspicious foot traffic going in and out. Not start fights.
But the problem with stakeouts is that they’re boring as hell. They’re supposed to be boring, but it still sucks. A boring stake out is how you know that it’s working. You sit. You watch. You wait for something that usually doesn’t come.
“It was spotted here as recently as two hours ago, that SUV,” Mason says beside me, no longer a teasing lilt to his voice. “They were cycling through here for a few hours earlier.”
“Too consistent to be random,” I mutter.
“Could be another holding spot.”
“Or a transfer point.”
“Units three and four are in position,” crackles over the radio. “Perimeter’s covered.”
“Copy,” I reply. Good, our backup is here.
We’re doing everything by the book. Unmarked vehicles staggered across the block with eyes on all entry points. Therewon’t be any movement from us until we know what we’re dealing with.
It’s basic, typical, and fully planned out. A classic stakeout. So why does it feel wrong?
I shift slightly in my seat, scanning the street again. And I spot it.TheSUV, black with tinted windows and rolling slowly down the street.
“Got movement,” I advise, my voice low.
Mason straightens immediately. “Where?”
“Coming in from the east,” I reply.
The vehicle glides past us too slowly. It’s not scouting; it’s watching.
My grip tightens slightly on the wheel.
“Why aren’t they stopping?” Mason mutters.
Good question. Because this clearly isn’t a drop; it’s surveillance.
The SUV continues down the block, not pulling up to the building or signaling. Just keeps going.
My stomach drops. “They’re not here for the building.”
