“Grayson could’ve sent anyone else,” I sighed, attempting to roll my neck again.
Instead, he’d sent the one person who would poke me with questions and press for answers when I didn’t give them. I didn’t have to give answers to Dominic. Not yet. He was patient. He would wait as long as I needed him to. Hayes would’ve just been silent the entire time. And given how things were turning out, I would’ve welcomed his cold shoulder. Grayson wouldn’t do anything because he didn’t come out into the field anymore unless absolutely necessary.
“Who? Dominic is on his own case, Grayson isn’t allowed to go on hunts per Carrie and his doctors, and Hayes still wants to beat the shit out of you.” Jake held his arms out wide, smiling. “I was your only fucking option.”
“I didn’t need backup.”
Now it was his turn to level me with a look. “Right, sure, yeah. Because if I hadn’t gotten here when I did, someone else would have clued you in about the bomb?”
“I suspected Pennick had a bomb,” I argued as we turned to head to the car, leaving the mess I’d caused behind us. We were in one of the oldest areas of St. Louis. It was home to over a dozen empty buildings, old factories from the Industrial Revolution, old breweries, and a handful of haunted churches. I’d chased Pennick here, keeping him away from the public because I knew in my gut he was going to pull some crazy shit. He wanted his freedom above all else, and he was the kind of man who would do anything to get it.
Sure enough, when I was in the middle of beating the shit out of him, he pulled out a grenade.
When we were a few feet away from the rental, a black suburban pulled in front of us, blue lights steady on top of it. I looked down at the logo on the door and then, as best as I could, tipped my head back to the dark, starless sky.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
“Good evening, Chief,” Jake chirped, trying not to laugh at my displeasure.
I righted my head in time to see Amara Harrison-Torrance, chief of St. Louis PD, rounding the front of the vehicle. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, her eyes sharp, hands on her hips beside her gun and badge. “Didn’t think I’d see Red Snake back in St. Louis this soon after the Hale murder,” she greeted, scanning me. “You good?”
I nodded. “Never been better.”
She clicked her tongue. “Heard you jumped out of a building.”
A wide grin stretched across my face. “Didn’t Leon also jump out of a building?”
She returned my grin with a cold smile. “We aren’t talking about my husband, Mr. Doss. Would you care to explain why you chased one of the country’s most wanted criminals into this building so he could blow it up?”
“First of all, he didn’t blow it up,” I told her, jerking my thumb over my shoulder. “The building is still standing. A little crispy, but intact. Blowing up a building of this size takes skill—”
“Similar to the skills you displayed in Kansas City a few years ago?” she quipped, pinning me with a glare.
I looked over at Jake. “How does everyone know that fucking story?”
He scratched his beard. “I don’t have the energy to go into answering that question.”
My brows shot up. “Oh, so you fucks just talk shit about me?”
“We talk shit about everyone, and so do you.”
“Gentlemen.” We both looked back at Amara. She gave us a thin, hard smile. “Please tell me why Pennick was in my city.”
“I was actually going to tell Officer Davis,” I told her. Her eyes snapped to mine, and I put my hand over my heart. “Scout’s honor.”
My promise went unanswered as she pulled out her phone, tapped it a few times, and put it to her ear. “Officer Davis, you’re off the hook. I’ll be taking over questioning for the Pennick case.”
“You had to go and be a smart-ass,” Jake groaned, checking his watch.
“I’m going to kick yours.”
“Try it, stiff neck,” he shot back as Amara returned her attention to us.
“Right,” she began. “You two are going to follow me to the station. I’m going to get a debrief, and you’re going to answer all my questions without complaint. Then you’re going to call Grayson and have him promise me that none of this Pennick shit will come back to my city while on speakerphone.”
Jake and I looked at each other. “But—” he started.
“Would you rather be put in a damn holding cell for the night?” she prompted, putting her hands back on her hips. “Because I’m tired and had to leave my warm bed for this bullshit.”
