Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
He has the presence of mind to look embarrassed. His ruddy cheeks and the tips of his overly large ears flush bright red. He's young, way too young and clean-cut to be working this neighborhood after dark. He'll be chewed up and spit out in no time flat.
I hold my badge out to him.
He checks it over carefully before handing it back to me and asking what happened.
"My place is trashed, and they threw rocks through the windows here. Both houses are clear," I tell him, and then I stride outside. I don't give a rat's ass if he follows me or not. My girl is probably freaking out. I need to check on her. I also don't want her outside alone any longer than she has to be.
"What's going on?" she asks, hopping out of the car as soon as I step outside. She's as beautiful as ever. She's wearing a gray high-waisted skirt with a cute little bow on the front and a lacy white top tucked in. Her hair is completely straight. She's wearing a pair of sandals that wrap around her ankles and calves. They match her skirt. She wrings her hands together and worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she hurries toward me. That quiver is still in her voice, and her expression is tight.
I stalk over, pulling her into my arms, not giving a fuck if she wants me to touch her or not. She clearly needs a hug, and right now, so do I.
She doesn't fight me. Her body melts into mine, her arms going around my waist. She hugs me tightly.
I close my eyes briefly and revel in the peaceful feeling that settles over me. The rage I felt inside her house falls away, leaving nothing but her and the way every nerve ending in my body lights up when she's near me.
"Cade?" she whispers.
"Someone trashed my place," I mutter, tipping my head down to look at her.
Her eyes go wide.
"They broke a couple of your windows, too."
"Kaleo?" she asks.
I press my lips together and nod.
Her shoulders slump, defeat channeling through her expression.
"I'll take care of it," I promise her.
"How?"
I open my mouth to tell her not to worry about that, but an unmarked Durango rolls up on the curb, pulling my attention away from her. A guy about my height gets out, dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt with DEA emblazoned across the back. I know him, sort of. His name is Luke Santiago. We met briefly at Roman's.
"Santiago," I greet him, jerking my chin up in a nod. I'm fucking glad to see him. At least he knows who I am and isn't liable to shoot me like the kid LAPD sent out here is.
"Kincaid," he says and strides toward me. His green eyes shift to January, who's still wrapped up in my arms. Something a little too much like interest rolls through his expression before he quickly schools it into a polite mask.
I step in front of her, blocking her from his view. I can't fault him for looking at her because she's too goddamn beautiful to be real, but I will fuck him up if he does it again. She's mine and I don't want anyone who looks like him getting too close to her. He's from Brazil or something—I can't fucking remember what Roman said. But he's got dark hair, piercing green eyes, and golden skin. I know damn well that girls go crazy over guys who look like him.
He needs to keep his eyes off my girl.
His green eyes rise to meet mine, and he jerks his chin in an almost imperceptible nod, letting me know he gets it.
January peeks out from behind me.
"I'm Luke Santiago," he says to her, keeping his tone professional and circumspect. His gaze barely skims over her this time. "I work with the DEA here in Los Angeles."
"January James," she whispers.
He gives her a nod and then turns back to me. "Roman called me. Someone broke into your place?"
"Yeah. Someone trashed my house and threw rocks through her windows," I mutter.
"Think it was personal or just a random act?" he asks.
"They left love notes all over my walls. Guess they don't like cops much."
January gasps.
Santiago nods his head. "Any idea who was responsible?"
"Curtis Kaleo," I mutter and pull my phone out of my pocket. "I've arrested seven of his people in the last two days. He's being a little bitch about it. Haven't had a chance to check the cameras I have on January's house yet, but I'm guessing they'll tell us who he sent over here to do his dirty work for him."
January's eyes widen like she doesn't know what to think, and then they narrow on me. "Cameras?" she says. "What cameras?"
Fuck. She would focus on that.