Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Goddammit, he’d gotten me in the hip of all places. Pain flared up my side, and I planted one hand against his head and the other digging into his spine. I released a harsh breath, relieved when I finally heard sirens in the distance. If it wasn’t the police coming our way, at the very least Joshua would be here soon.
Gael came up to me, visibly shell-shocked. “Tell me what to do—should I c-call the police?”
“They’re already on their way.” I tried to control my breathing and eyed my boy. To his credit, Caleb was attempting to smack my hands away, but the angle didn’t offer him any advantages. “Search through his pockets.”
Gael was shaky and frightened, but he went straight to it.
Caleb cursed and thrashed, but the pain in his back, not to mention the side of his face, kept him in position.
“Oh my gosh,” Gael breathed out. He pulled out a knife, and that worked for me.
“Extend the blade and toss it aside,” I instructed. “We both saw him try to attack you with that, didn’t we?” I gave him a pointed look.
He stared up at me, eyes wide. “Um. Y-yeah. Yeah.”
Longer sentence, baby. We want him locked up for once.
“You’re full of shit!” Caleb gritted out.
I shot a look over my shoulder. No outdoor surveillance around. Both doors to the neighboring restaurants were shut properly, and the door to Waffled had been shut in the mayhem too. Which meant we were actually locked out, but no matter.
“See if you can find his phone,” I told Gael next.
He swallowed hard and unfolded the knife before throwing it on the ground, and then he located Caleb’s phone in his left jeans pocket.
“I need to see the lock screen,” I said.
With shaky fingers, he brought the phone to life, and I searched the top bar, just to make sure he wasn’t recording what was transpiring. One could never be too careful.
“Toss it aside too,” I told him. “And grab his wallet.”
Nothing wrong with disarming an attacker and throwing away his belongings where he couldn’t reach them. Plus, we didn’t have to explain Gael’s fingerprints.
“He charged at you with the knife, baby,” I reminded him.
“Yeah—I won’t forget,” he promised. “Did he do something else?”
“You’re not fucking serious, Gael,” Caleb spat.
“I got a restraining order that says otherwise,” Gael snapped at Caleb. “Suit yourself, loser.”
The light at the end of the alley some fifty feet away was suddenly blocked by a car turning in, and I saw Joshua’s truck following closely behind. Thank fuck, I was losing my strength.
“It might help our case if you’re upset, peach,” I grunted.
“Got it.” Gael nodded jerkily, then looked back toward the police car as well as Joshua’s truck. But before he did anything or rushed at Joshua, he spun back on Caleb and glared up at him. “If I gave a flying fuck about you, I’d thank you. Because it’s your fault I felt the need to hide—and that’s how I met two amazing men. But now I see you for what you are, a sorry excuse for a guy who can’t let go. It’s pathetic.” He huffed and turned on his heel, then took off in a run toward Joshua. “Santiago! Help us—Caleb tried to attack us! Officer, he was armed, but I got the knife away from him when Dean grabbed him. Please help us!”
I stifled my smile and faced Caleb.
“Enjoy your flight back to San Francisco,” I said quietly. “We’ll take care of Gael. We’ll keep him happy.”
He cursed and tried a final time to get free, but he was out of time. Two officers ran over, along with Joshua.
“They’re lying!” he shouted. “I didn’t attack! I didn’t do anything!”
Strong defense from someone who was violating his restraining order for the umpteenth time while carrying a knife.
Santiago Jones
“You know what I remember? I remember you saying you were never gonna set foot in here again.”
I snorted a laugh and slapped my hand to his. “All right, all right—I guess I miscalculated. See you around, buddy.”
“Yeah, get outta here, Detective.” He laughed and headed back to work.
And I walked out of the station to find Dean and Gael waiting on the sidewalk.
Jesus Christ, what a fucking night.
It’d gotten dark, I was hungry, I was furious, I’d managed to curse myself for being late about a dozen times already, I was worried, and…fuck. I blew out a breath and draped my arms around them both.
I was also relieved. There wasn’t a chance in hell Caleb would escape serving actual time now.
“Are you two gonna tell me the truth about the goddamn pocketknife?” I asked them.
’Cause I wasn’t born yesterday. Their stories had been solid throughout our visit to the station, but I’d seen a look or two. After Dean had given his testimony and it’d been Gael’s turn, I’d noticed something between them. But most of all, my suspicion had been triggered because Dean and I had discussed this. We’d talked about our options of pinning more shit on Caleb. And honestly? If Gael had truly been charged at by Caleb with a knife, our boy would be more upset. A weapon changed things for a victim.