Page 70 of The Opposite Effect

A car whizzing by sounds through the phone, proving he’s already out looking.

“Ryan called yesterday. He got some grainy footage of the men leaving the alleyway from an ATM camera. He’s going to see if Hunter can clean up the image enough to run it through facial recognition.” My voice is gruff from just waking up. “Give Ryan a few days to see what he can come up with. If he doesn’t get any closer, I’ll call in a few favors.”

Although Diesel doesn’t reply, I can imagine him nodding.

“Talking about favors, I have one I need to ask.”

“Anything,” Diesel replies without a smidge of hesitation.

“Clara is doing well, but I don’t think it’d be wise to throw her back into Inked so soon after her attack.”

“That’s understandable. We held down the fort months before she arrived, so I’m sure we can keep things going until she feels comfortable returning.”

“I also don’t want to leave her alone,” I add on quickly.

Diesel is so quiet I can hear the smile etching onto his face.

“Do you think you could handle taking the reins at Inked for a couple of days?”

Diesel chuckles. “I hope so, considering I already rescheduled your appointments.”

I smile. I shouldn’t be surprised. He is always one step ahead of the pack.

“Call me if anything urgent comes up.”

“Call me if you want a real man to show you how it’s done,” he replies, chuckling.

Laughing, I pull the phone away from my ear, but I return it when Diesel calls my name. “Yeah?”

“Give her an extra pound just for me,” he adds, since his first tease didn’t have the effect he was aiming for.

His hearty chuckle is barely audible over my furious growl. My attention is diverted from ways of seeking my revenge on him when a car honking shrieks through my ears, closely followed by crunching metal. When I walk to the end of my patio, I spot the cause of the commotion. A white sedan has run up the backside of a black truck.

I’m about to call for help when I notice a steel gray Audi parked at the curb. It is the same steel gray Audi I spotted two days ago when I returned from visiting my grandmother. A sense ofdread washes over me when the occupants of the car fail to exit their vehicle to aid the people involved in the crash.

Shouldn’t a police officer’s priority always be helping civilians?

I stand out on my patio, watching the scene unfold for the next twenty minutes. Not once do the suit-clad men in the silver Audi step out of their vehicle. Not even when the female driver of the sedan stumbles out of her car with a massive gash on her forehead.

No longer able to restrain my curiosity, my finger slides across the screen of my phone before I punch in a well-used number.

“Ryan Carter.”

“Ryan, it’s Brax.” My voice is gritty as concern strangles my vocal cords. “I thought you were holding off on putting a unit on Clara.”

“I did,” he replies with confusion in his tone. “You said you’d take care of her. Did something happen? Do you need a unit assigned?”

I grit my teeth. “No, Clara is fine. I need a favor.”

Ryan delays in replying. He hates being asked a favor.

“I had my guys call you when they found two of the men who attacked Clara. That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t ask me for a favor. Besides, if you can’t do this, I’ll call Hunter.”

“Fine,” he breathes out heavily, hating that I’m considering taking a non-legal approach. “What do you need?”

I adjust my position so the Audi is directly in my line of sight. “I need you to run a license plate for me…”

Two hours and thirty-nine minutes later, I’m pulling my bike into the curb of Destiny Records in Hopeton. Charity did a mighty fine job pretending she needed to speak to Claraalone for a one-on-one girl talk when she arrived at my apartment an hour ago. She was so convincing, she had Clara begging for me to give them some private time.

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