Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
He was in love.
He was a dangerous fucking man now.
God and his team pulled up behind the many patrol cars in front of what used to be Marcus and Jason Stewart’s home. It looked like a peaceful neighborhood, and God was sure its residents probably weren’t used to the type of crime scene that they were viewing from their bedroom balconies now. He glanced over at Day and saw his mouth hanging open.
“Looks like fucking Beirut, man,” Steele grumbled behind them.
God had had a bad feeling for the past several weeks, as if he was waiting for something forceful to catch him off guard. The destruction he saw in front of him rang out like a massive-ass greeting card. They filed out of the warmth of his truck and into the biting cold while the rest of his team got out of Ruxs and Green’s Ram. They were in street clothes, but it was unnecessary for them to show their badges as they approached the yellow police caution tape around the perimeter of the property. Markers littered the immaculate lawn that was covered with bullet shells—hundreds of them.
“Holy shit,” Day said, staring up at the crumbled brick. God looked at his husband’s eyes as he assessed the scene.
“What are you seeing?” he asked him.
“A professional hit. This wasn’t just a drive-by by some gang.” Day shook his head. “Looks as if the Stewart brothers have gone and made a serious enemy.”
Steele and Tech moved to where a majority of the shells lay in a heaping mound as if they were fall leaves raked into a pile to play in. Steele’s heavy black and gray parka scraped the ground when he squatted and picked up one of the shells with a bandana he pulled from his back pocket. He turned the slim gold casing around, his eyes narrowing as if he’d realized something bad. Tech began to snap photos of everything to send to Free to load into their task force’s private server.
“What you got?” Syn asked Steele when he stood back up.
“These are from an assault weapon that you can’t just get anywhere.” Steele eyed them intently.
Michaels—their sniper officer—took the bullet in his gloved hand and nodded. “This ain’t street-grade, you guys.”
God raised one brow, waiting on them to elaborate.
“We’ve seen rare assault weapons on the streets before,” Day told him.
“Not military issue,” Steele countered then pointed at the flattened grass near the empty shells. “There’s two different kinds of shells from two different weapons, so it was more than one of them. These men moved in a clean crisscross pattern over each other, then back again... as if it was choreographed.”
“Shit. Who the hell is in our city, God?” Day asked him, but God didn’t have an answer. Yet they were all relying on him to find it, and soon. The pressure of his unit rode him hard most days, but it was what he did.
“You sure we can rule out females? This could definitely be some pissed off girlfriends.” Ruxs shrugged.
Steele put his own foot next a large indentation in the bright green, artificial grass. “That’s an awfully large boot print to be a woman’s. And there’s two of them.”
God could feel the tension and stress creeping up his neck and tightening his muscles. He wouldn’t doubt his marine’s words. They worked so well together because they trusted each other, and Steele was on his team because he was one of the best trackers he’d met besides his best friend and bounty hunter, Judge.
God motioned for Syn to find the officers in charge of the scene. This was not how he’d planned to start his day. All he’d intended to do was focus on getting that teen witness into their office and under their protective custody before the end of the afternoon. The mom was supposed to be bringing him after school, once she officially withdrew him. Then finally, God could go back to that uptight prosecutor with the concrete evidence he’d been demanding. But when Ronowski—his first officer—had informed him that two of their prime suspects had been targeted last night, and that one brother was in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound to the shoulder while the other was missing, God knew he had to get out there and see for himself.
“This is a big fucked-up problem that we don’t need right now,” Day huffed, blowing his breath into his hands, trying to warm them.
“Agreed. Now, how do we un-fuck it?” Green asked, standing close to his partner, waiting for their lieutenants to give them instructions.
“Ruxs, you and Green sit on this place for a while and see if anything stirs up. It’s always fun to come back to the scene of the crime,” Day said.
“Steele, I want you and Michaels to stay on ballistics. I want a report on the weapons used here no later than tomorrow afternoon and make sure whatever they uncover gets on our server first,” God directed.