Page 46 of Her Protector Daddies

“Is that really what you think?” I bit out. “Or is that the Chief talking.”

“If you have a problem with this, Detective, then I suggest you present your concerns in writing.”

Just like that, the Captain hat was back on her head and this friendly idea proposal turned into orders. My lips parted, ready to give Aubrey a stinging piece of my mind, when Tyler cut in before me.

“But Captain, Selena isn’t even trained. She’s just a civilian. You can’t ask her to do this.”

“I’m not,” Aubrey replied. “You will be, and it’s your job to ensure that she will be ready when the invite arrives for the party. She doesn’t have to do anything but wear a wire and get him talking.” Aubrey sucked in a short, sharp breath. “Given the circumstances, I can’t imagine it won’t be difficult for her to play the part of the dejected daughter.”

I couldn’t speak. The rage building inside me, along with the protective urge to make sure nothing ever happened to Selena, was strangling me from the inside out. It wasn’t the first time we’d used civilians in order to get what we needed, but with Selena, it was different.

I cared about her. We all did. Sending her into the lion’s den couldn’t be an option.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Aubrey snapped at Tyler, bringing me out of my spiraling thoughts. “You have your orders. If you are so concerned then you ensure you do a good job preparing her, understand?”

Tyler sighed deeply, his shoulders dropping. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. Dismissed.” Her laser eyes snapped to me. “Both of you.”

I held it together until we were in the hall, then the anger burst forward barely a foot from the Captain’s office.

“This is fucking bullshit, no, it’s fucking worse than that. What the hell is she thinking? Selena already has a giant fucking target on her back and now we’re going to serve her to Andrés on a silver platter?!”

“Seems that way,” Tyler muttered. “Don’t you think it’s a little odd though?”

“Odd?” I nearly choked on my scoff. “The whole thing is fucking fucked.”

“I’ve never known Captain Watts to be interested in using a civilian to do the dirty work. Didn’t she campaign for safer rules around CI’s?”

“So what?” Stomping down the hall, walking did nothing to burn off the fury igniting across my skin. “She’s just parroting the Chief. Our hands are fucking tied here because some stuffy suit in an office thinks that Selena is worth sacrificing just to get Andrés off the streets!”

My balled-up fist collided with the nearest item, which happened to be the soda vending machine. Plexi-glass splintered under the force of the punch, and the lights inside the machine flickered and died.

“Bailey,” Tyler warned and his hand clasped my shoulder. “You can’t let your feelings get the better of you here.”

“Fuck that.” I shrugged him off and spun to face him. “How can you stand there and be okay with this?”

“I’m not fucking okay with this,” he hissed right back, anger and hurt flashing across his face. “But if we kick up too much of a fuss, they’ll pull us off the case and a bunch of strangers will be backing Selena up if she agrees.”

“Of course she’ll agree,” I grumbled, my chest heaving. “She’s too fucking nice and driven to say no.”

“Exactly.” Tyler placed both hands on his hips and glanced up the hall. “So, you need to keep yourself in check so we can make sure we’re there for her if things go south.”

“When,” I corrected. A prickling pain finally made itself known across my knuckles. Glancing down, the skin across two of my knuckles had split from the blow and I groaned softly, then lifted them to my lips to suck off the speckles of blood.

“If we’re lucky,” Tyler continued, “the meeting with Marcus will give us everything we need and we can arrest Andrés before the party even happens.”

I forced a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right,” I replied around my knuckles. “You’re right.”

So much was riding on Marcus that I was contemplating arresting him the moment he showed up and spending all night with him in interrogation to get everything I needed.

“Damn,” Tyler groaned, a dry chuckle rattling out of him. “I wanted a soda.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, eyeing the machine. “Out of order.”

“The hell happened here?” Officer Trask appeared over Tyler’s shoulder and his beady eyes glanced from me to the broken vending machine. Two other officers flanked him, half lost in their own conversation about some sport that I didn’t follow.

“Maintenance,” I replied.

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