Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“On it.” Tracker stood while Dante was writhing in pain and unable to get up.
Spec took his place, kneeling on the man.
Tracker ran to the parking lot, where he met Curly. “Where’s Jo?” he asked as he yanked open the driver’s side door on Spec’s truck.
“Sent her to my house with Brooke and Liv.” He hopped in the passenger’s seat. “The prospect will meet them there. Just in case.”
Good. Competent as Jo was, if any of this got back to Lobo before they could control the situation, the women could be in danger. “How pissed was she?”
Curly snorted. “Let’s just say you better bring you’re A-game for the make-up sex. You’re gonna need it.”
Fuck.
Physically, she’d be safe, but where was she mentally? Was this it? She had to know they planned to use any method necessary to extract information from Dante. Helping hide an innocent man against her superior’s orders was one thing. Turning a blind eye against whatever the hell Spec planned to put Dante through was quite another.
Would she turn them in?
His gut said no, but he couldn’t get a read on the most pressing question.
Would this finally cause her to walk away from him?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“TRACKER, NO!” JO screamed as he took off like a greyhound out of the gate.
Spec bounded after him much the same way.
“Shit!” Liv yelled, but she didn’t try to stop her man.
Well, Jo wasn’t having it. She was a cop, for fuck’s sake. What the hell did Tracker think he was going to do? Beat a confession out of the man in the middle of a public beach?
Sure, it was deserted now, but that wasn’t guaranteed to continue.
When Dante went to the cops to report this, she’d be obligated to make a statement.
She had to stop them.
“Tracker,” she screamed again. “Stop! He’s not worth it.” A frustrated growl ripped through her then she took off after the stupid men who were hell-bent on spending the night in jail.
“Jo, wait!” Brooke shouted after her, but her entire focus zeroed in on Tracker. She had to reach him before he made it to Dante and sealed his fate.
Heavy breathing hit her ears a fraction of a second before a strong, tattooed arm banded around her waist and yanked her off her feet. Her back hit a hard male chest, then she was being dragged back toward their picnic spot. “No. Goddammit, Curly! Put me down.”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears.
Panic began to grapple its way to her chest. “Curly, please. I have to stop him. You don’t understand.”
She kicked the air and wrenched back and forth, but Curly was too damn strong. “Curly, come on.” Her voice rose to a high-pitched shriek of near hysteria. Time was running out to keep Tracker from making a life-altering mistake.
Curly ignored her until he reached Brooke and Liv, who were scrambling to clean up their picnic.
As soon as he let her go, she shoved away from him. Tracker and Spec were far down the beach and nearly out of sight. “What the hell, Curly?” she shouted at him. “I need to fucking stop them.”
“I can’t let you do that, Jo.”
How could he be so calm when she was about to come out of her skin? The way he stood there, no more agitated than he’d been when they were chatting and eating, made her want to punch him.
Rather than hitting him, she expended the pissed-off energy with a frustrated wail and stalked away, running her hands through her hair. A few seconds later, she stormed back over to him. “Do you have any idea how this is going to go down, Curly? Any idea what you’re setting us all up for? They’ll beat the shit outta Dante for information on Lobo. Eventually, he’ll go to the cops. It’ll come out that I was fucking here to witness it. Then I’ll be forced to arrest him or go to jail myself. Then someone else will just arrest them.”
Liv and Brooke stayed out of it, but their distressed expressions weren’t lost on Jo.
“That’s why you need to leave, Jo.”
“Excuse me?” She planted her hands on her hips. Had the man lost his mind?
“You need to go so we can do what we need to do without you being a witness. Go back to my house with Brooke and Liv. Tracker will meet you there when we’re done.”
Her arms slumped at her sides, and her eyes popped so wide they nearly fell onto the sand. “Curly…”
Tracker will meet you there when we’re done.
She’d misread the severity of the situation. They weren’t going to run down the beach, kick the crap out of Dante, then go on with their night. No, they were going to get information on Lobo and the death of Lock’s sister out of Dante in private.
Somewhere else.
No matter what they had to do.