Page 71 of Black Bird

Wren smirked and slid out of bed. “I’ll go by the house. Pack you a bag. Unless … are you still gonna stay?”

“I told him I would. That was before I found this shit in the fridge, but … as weird as it is, there’s gotta be some logical explanation, right?”

Wren’s mouth twitched to the side, and she narrowed her eyes. “I would think someone as smart as he is has a good reason for it, yes. But … look, I’ll be there within the hour. Better get used to having bodyguards. And they don’t talk much. None of them are even remotely attractive, just so you know.”

“I don’t care. Just come get me.”

“Okay. Be there soon. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They hung up and Wren started searching through her dresser for clothes.That little bastard.She knew he’d been a snake from the moment he’d started dating Sarah. It took everything in her not to call his ass up and give him a piece of her mind. Although, it didn’t stop her from remembering the look Brent had in his eyes at the hospital. When he watched Sarah in her bed. The panic that was in his voice when she’d raced up there after Sarah had been sedated because of her strange outburst. Or, when she’d told him that he needed to leave her if he loved her at all. She knew deep down, he must have. At least he was doing one thing right by Sarah. He didn’t have to tell them the truth. She’d give him that much.

As for her best friend, Wren could only hope that whatever this was that was going on between her and the hot detective, wouldn’t be a hindrance to this case. She’d thought he’d be more careful and not try anything until this was all over. But she also knew that the way he seemed to be straining against his better judgment at his apartment must have been a weight that was too heavy to bear.

Wren opened a can of cat food and slopped it into Denver’s dish before kissing him on top of his fuzzy head and shoving a cigarette into her mouth on her way out the door. Two cops were standing outside, and she turned to lock up.

“Where you headed?” the chubby one asked, already holding a cup of coffee.

“To my friend’s place to get her some clothes, and then to your buddy’s to pick her up.”

“We can drive you,” the other cop said, turning toward her.

“It’s obvious enough that I’m being watched without showing up in a cop car, dude. Could you follow a safe distance? Give us some space?”

“Sure. Just don’t do anything stupid.” He shrugged.

Wren barked a laugh and walked past them down the stairs and out the door. The coffee shop was way too busy to stop this morning, although the owner likely had already seen the two men that followed behind her enough to understand they were here for her. She decided to skip that awkward conversation and unlocked her car. When she raised her eyes over the roof of the Beetle, she noticed a black sedan with the driver casually sitting and making no moves to get out of his vehicle. She pretended not to notice. She wouldn’t have noticed at all, had Kane not told them to be more alert. She eased herself in and started up, backing out of her space and adjusting her rear-view mirror.

About a block down the road, she peered back up to find that sedan about five cars behind her and the two officers that followed in a squad car. They couldn’t be that stupid. Wren reached for her phone.

“Wren?”

“Hey … you said you wanted me to call it in if it looks suspicious?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I’m being followed. I’m in my car heading to Sarah’s to get her some clothes. I was gonna go pick her up and take her to breakfast.”

“Where are you?”

“A block away from my place.”

“Keep eyes on them. What are they driving, and how many?”

“One driver. Black sedan.”

“I’ll let your officers know. Keep your eyes peeled. Where are you taking her? Should I meet you?”

“There’s a diner not far from your apartment. That’s where we’ll be. But … it sounds like she needs to talk, and I’m guessing it’s the kind of conversation she wouldn’t want you around for … if you catch my meaning.”

Kane was quiet for a heartbeat.“I understand. Wren, look … don’t go to my apartment if they’re still following you. They’ll see her come out and know where she’s staying. You both need to be smart about this. Throw them off. Let me get someone on ‘em.”

“Understood.” Wren hung up and turned left at the light. Two blocks down, she turned right. The patrol cars divided, each one taking a different street and the sedan moved closer. “Come on, fucker … lemme see your face.” She growled, looking in the mirror and opening the camera on her phone. She raised it as he crept up behind her and zoomed in. Her breath caught in her throat. She snapped as many photos as she could and he spotted her, knowing exactly what she was doing. The black car sped around her, and her eyes widened when she realized she was right.

She dropped the phone and it fell to the floorboard, the asshole swerving toward her in an attempt to run her into oncoming traffic on the other side of the street. Wren slammed on the brakes, the car behind her mercifully stopping before it hit her back bumper and he veered into thetraffic himself. The car smashed into two others near her left headlight and the officers that had been with her peeled in from the two streets on the other side, blocking him and getting out with their guns pointed. The brute made to run, limping out of his driver’s side door, and turning toward Wren. He pulled a gun of his own, not visible to the cops running behind him. Her heart thrashed and she instinctively reached for her bag, pulling her pistol out and shooting through her window as he raised his barrel toward her.

Four rounds. He dropped like a stone to the pavement and Wren heaved panicked breaths. The two officers banked on either side of him, kicking the gun from his hand and pointing theirs down at him while he laid there, motionless. People were screaming and running, though no one seemed hurt by the crash. The revolver shook in her hands, and she looked down at it. One of the officers opened her door and she flinched. He leaned over her, putting her car in park and turning her face toward him.

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