Page 118 of Riordan's Revenge

“Give me back what you stole.” I revved but stayed on the relative safety of the neutral ground.

He shrugged and leaned into the car to extract my phone. Waved it at me. “Better be quick. Cassie needs ye.”

I’d fucking kill him. When this was over, and my goddamned heart got its normal rhythm back, I’d haul him to Cassie’s feet and ask her permission to end her big brother.

It was then I picked up another threat.

Sirens. Multiple ones, coming in fast.

I’d been so caught up in the chase, I’d failed to pay them the right attention, but of course people had called the cops.

In nearby houses, residents peered from windows, and in the street behind Cassie’s brother, a door opened and a woman stepped out. She spotted us then froze.

Recognition ticked over in my brain. She was familiar, even with a hoodie concealing half her face. I knew her from somewhere. The warehouse, maybe.

If she worked for Divide or Divine, what the fuck was she doing out here?

Struan’s asshole smile spread. He slid my phone into his back pocket and strode across the street to me.

I readied to leave. “What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck out of here or you’re going to get arrested.”

He finished at a run, tackling me from the bike. I fought him. Struan caught me in a headlock.

The cop cars flew down from both ends of the street and out of the junction. We were surrounded, quickly and efficiently. Doors popped and boots drummed. I struggled, but Struan tightened his grip.

“Let it happen. Learn.”

My fucking idiotic brain caught up.

Cassie asked him to help me understand how he got away with being arrested. The leverage they had on the police. I’d taken the bait without a thought for anything other than her.

“Is she even in trouble?” I snarled.

“Hands where we can see them,” an officer yelled.

“Nope, unless ye consider knitting needles a danger. That’s what she’s doing tonight with her girls.”

Fucking knitting while I was out chasing her brother around like a rabid dog.

It was at that moment, as we were rushed, shoved down on the cold tarmac, I remembered something that I should never have forgotten. The knife tucked away in my boot.

Chapter 35

Riordan

At Deadwater’s city centre police station, a duty cop opened the service hatch of my cell. Pacing the floor, I met his gaze.

“Ready to let me go yet?”

The man clucked his tongue. “With your rap sheet, no chance, sunshine.”

“I don’t have a rap sheet.” I’d stayed well off the cops’ radar, keeping my head down and my nose clean.

His eyes gleamed. “Don’t you now?”

Something sounded in the corridor behind him. Voices. The cop glanced away, the little window remaining open.

I dropped my head back and stared at the stained ceiling. My gut was a tight ball of stress, at war with the logic of why I was here. Cassie would never throw me to the wolves. She wouldn’t have arranged this, to whatever extent she’d been involved, without knowing I’d walk free.

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