Page 55 of Draven

He pauses, scrunches his jacket in his big fist as he stares at the floor, then lifts his head. “Hell of a temper you’ve got, Lola.”

I curve my lips ever so slightly. “Right backatcha, Dotty.”

He fights the smile that threatens, but it wins out in the end. Tossing his jacket on the bed, he crooks a finger, beckoning me. Three tentative steps bring us together. He clutches a handful of my hair, tugging back my head, exposing my neck. A rush of warmth heats the blood in my veins as he bends his head, fastening his lips to the soft skin right over my carotid artery. He sucks hard, the pain oh so bittersweet.

“You hit me, I’ll spank you. You bite me, I’ll mark you. Tit for tat, Lola. I ain’t no pussy whipped asshole, so before you make your next move, think carefully.”

I squeeze my thighs together in a futile attempt to stem the ache. Why does it turn me on when he’s brutal?

Before I can recover my poise and come up with a suitable response, he grabs his jacket and leaves.

Chapter 20

Draven

The fight with Louise is still burning in my veins when I mount my bike and start the engine. Before we reconnected, I wouldn’t have thought it possible to meet someone with a temper as fiery as mine, yet I’ve more than met my match. I’d better keep her and Ciaran apart. He’s already seen us go toe-to-toe once. If he witnessed the fight we just had and saw how she stood her ground, he’d laugh for a fucking week.

Since my plan to shower at Louise’s place has gone to shit, I swing by my motel room to freshen up, then set off for Newark. I make it to Rick’s precinct in one hour ten minutes. Even a wreck on the highway doesn’t stop me—one of the benefits of having a bike over a car, not to mention I prefer the freedom. I enjoy the sensation of the wind chafing my face, the rush of the passing traffic, the heat from the sun, or the chill from the rain on my back.

I secure the bike and walk inside, holding the door open for an elderly couple to go in first. The woman gives me a suspicious side-eye, so I bow and wink. Even then, her face remains stoic. I have that effect on a lot of people. My size, the fact I’m usually kitted out head-to-toe in leather, my long hair and thick beard, plus the ink, all sends a message to strangers that they’d do well to give me a wide berth.

After the sergeant on the desk has dealt with the couple, I give him my name, then pace while I wait for Rick to come get me. Modern security drives me crazy. Gone are the days where I could flash my ID and find my own way. Now I have to wait until I’m fucking escorted like a kid on their first day at school.

“Hey.”

I get to my feet as Rick strides toward me. The two of us shake hands, and Rick cocks his head, signaling for me to follow him outside rather than go to his office. “Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee across the street. Better than the weaker-than-piss stuff we get here.”

We walk across the street and enter an independent coffee shop that, in my opinion, serves much better java than the chains. I take a seat by the window while Rick fetches us coffees and a couple of blueberry muffins. I grab the nearest one and take a huge bite.

“Any further news?” I ask, my mouth half full as I brush crumbs off my jacket.

Rick shakes his head. “I’ve spoken to my contact at the FBI. They’ve extensively questioned the guy you disarmed and tied up, but so far, he’s given them nothing.”

“Have they traced him back to Shala yet?”

“Not that I’m aware, but it’s only a matter of time and diligent policing. Once they do, they’ll bring Shala in for questioning. Although you and I both know a half decent lawyer will have him released within an hour. Problem is, there’s no actual evidence. No CCTV at the warehouse, no signs of him coming or going. If only you or Louise had taken footage on your phones.”

“Even if we had, what would it prove? From our position, you couldn’t see the number of the warehouse. All we’d have caught was Shala exiting a nondescript building flanked by his security team.”

Rick nods. “Fair point. I’m hoping the women can help us pin something on the bastard. I can’t remember if I told you, but the FBI asked for assistance in questioning them, given the numbers involved. As luck would have it, my precinct was asked to do it.”

“Finally, a bit of good news.”

“You say that, but all my team have gleaned so far is that the men spoke with a foreign accent.”

“Can’t blame them for not wanting to recall in detail what happened. They’re bound to be in shock.”

“True.” He sips his coffee and peels the paper off his muffin. “Have you spoken to Louise since the funeral?”

“Yeah.” I grimace. “She’s been demoted.”

Shock registers on Rick’s face, his eyes rounding. “Excuse me?”

Cramp seizes my tight jaw. Every time I think about it, I want to punch something. Or rather, I want to punch her pussy of a boss for not standing up for her when the higher-ups came knocking.

“They needed a fall guy, and when the music stopped, she didn’t have a seat. According to her jerkoff boss, there’s a bigger case that we fucked up by going in. And by we, I mean me. But as they couldn’t demote me, Louise was the next in line.”

Two deep lines pinch the skin between Rick’s eyebrows. “What bigger case?”

---