Page 106 of Dark Romeo

Right. I didn’t think about that. I glanced around, trying to peer into the shadows, the hairs on my arm standing on end.

“Stay close.” Roman strode towards the end of the alley, Eduardo slung over his shoulder.

Still half stunned, I kept up wordlessly alongside him, my eyes darting around for any signs that we were going to be attacked again. The alleyway seemed to hiss, growl and leak around us like a creature that was waiting for a chance to devour us.

Roman stopped at the back of a black Mercedes parked on the side of the dark street. One measly streetlight was left working, a sickly light drifting around the lamp like smoke. This was Verona. Certain areas—the good areas—wanted for nothing; they had wide sidewalks, manicured parks and maintained streets. But the inner city—the parts filled with everyday people, the ones whose voices couldn’t yell loud enough to reach the ears of those in ivory towers, the ones who kept the city running like overworked cogs in an insatiable machine—lay forgotten and crumbling away. I wanted to grind my teeth at the injustice of it. It was one of the reasons I loved being a cop, to give those who “didn’t matter” a voice.

“You’re going to have to get my keys out of my pocket for me,” Roman said.

My gaze dropped to the pockets of his fitted jeans, then back up to his face. I frowned. Was this a trick?

“If you haven’t noticed, my hands are full.” Roman flashed me a grin.

I sighed. “Which one?”

“Left.”

I sidled up beside him and slid my hand into his pocket.

“A little further in. Yeah, deeper. That’s it.”

My fingers brushed against something firm that was definitely not keys. Oh shit! I snatched my hand back. How the hell could he be semi-hard at a time like this?

Roman didn’t look embarrassed at all. He merely smirked at me. “Oops. I mean the other left pocket.”

I scowled at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“I won’t deny it if you don’t deny you enjoyed it.”

“I did not,” I spluttered, my cheeks flaming.

“Can you get the keys? You’re wasting time.” He shifted his right hip toward me and wiggled it. Goddamn him. With all the caution of someone feeding a snake down a hole, I slid my hand into his right pocket, my lips pinched as I glared at him. My fingers brushed against keys but I only managed to push them in further. I gritted my teeth and pushed my fingers in deeper, grasping for the keys while trying not to touch his obvious arousal again.

Roman let out a small groan. “If you keep that up, I’m going to drop him and grab you instead.”

My cheeks colored. I snatched the keys out—finally—and let out a breath.

“Pop the trunk.”

I blinked at Roman. “What?”

“The trunk. Pop it.”

“Why?”

Roman let out a grunt. “Are you going to argue with me every damn step of the way? Just do it before I drop him. The fucker’s getting heavy.”

I opened the trunk. Roman dropped the man’s unconscious body into the trunk like a bag of potatoes. He slammed the lid down.

“What the hell?” I glanced around on the street to see if anyone had seen him dump the body in the car. No one was around. Or if they were, they wouldn’t “remember” anything. I knew from experience that most people preferred not to get involved. Too many witnesses had a history of disappearing. That was probably why nobody came to help when I started yelling.

Roman snatched the keys from me. “I don’t want him waking up while I’m driving and causing trouble.”

Roman was right. Shoving him in the back seat would cause unnecessary risk to us. I didn’t have any cuffs on me. It was the best way to secure him while we took him to the police station to interrogate him.

The car beeped unlocked, making me flinch. I was so jumpy. I steadied my breath and wiped my clammy hands on my skirt. I knew all the physical things that victims went through after an attack: heightened reactions to noises, paranoia, weakened heart rate, cold hands, sweating, rapid breathing. This was the first time I’d ever experienced it myself. I now had a new level of empathy for all the victims I’d ever interviewed.

Roman must have noticed because one of his hands slid onto my arm. “You okay?”

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