Page 92 of Savior

The only difference between this time and last time was the fact that I wasn’t being backed by a squad of bikers with military backgrounds. And maybe it made me crazy, but I wasn’t too keen on dragging a horny pregnant woman into an active crime scene.

“Sullivan?” I bolted upright as the radio crackled to life.

“Masterson,” I said. “Give me something.”

“We, uh—” His voice cut in and out. “Fuck, there’s no easy way to say this, but our cover was blown.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose with a muttered curse. “Did you happen to get anything we could use?”

“Negative. How’s it going on your end?”

I glanced out the window and back at the house. “Think I might need some backup.”

After giving him my location, I punched the steering wheel. “They’re onto us, Lauren. I feel it. It’s like they’re always one fucking step ahead of us!”

“There has to be a way to outsmart them,” she said. “A way to force them to slip up. I’ve been thinking about it all day, you know? Like, if we just had one ace up our sleeve, it might be enough to bring the entire operation down.”

I took in the crease between her eyebrows and the stubborn set of her jaw with a wry grin. “You’ve been thinking about it all day? Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”

There was just enough light coming in from the street lamps for me to see the flush as it worked its way up her chest.

“Now who’s making it all about sex?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “I’m serious, though. If we could just find a chink in their armor, we could exploit it.”

“Darlin’, the king of bikers himself wasn’t able to figure it out. What makes you think we’ll be able to?”

Lauren gnawed at the corner of her lip, no longer consumed with thoughts of getting me naked but with outsmarting the Sons.

It was a damn shame too because I’d just warmed up to the idea of a quickie before Zane and Dakota arrived.

Coincidentally, the change of heart occurred right around the time my stomach started growling, and I remembered why I’d missed dinner. After a late afternoon nap to recharge, I’d found myself handcuffed to our bed with a gorgeous redhead straddling my thighs.

The headlights from Zane’s truck hit the back window, and I bit back a growl before getting out.

Dakota waved weakly before limping over, and I looked to Zane to fill in the blanks.

“Had a little run-in with a broken bottle,” he said as if that suddenly explained everything.

Lauren asked the next obvious question. “But you’re wearing shoes. How did that happen?”

“Well, I was wearing shoes, but I took them off, and when Bear pulled the gun on Zane, I didn’t think and just jumped out of the truck to run after—”

“In the truck,” I hissed. “Now.”

As soon as the doors closed, I turned to the backseat. “Bear pulled a fucking gun on you, Detective?”

Zane winced. “It sounds worse than it was.”

“I find that hard to believe. And Dakota, care to explain why the fuck you took your shoes off on a surveillance mission?”

“Yeah, I took them off so I could get my pants down—” She clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Told you they were hooking up,” Lauren exclaimed with a giggle.

I leaned over the seat and into Zane’s view when it became apparent he was avoiding eye contact with me. “Sweetie, you wanna tell me why your wife needed to take off her pants and how you ended up on the wrong end of Bear’s gun?”

His jaw tightened. “Thought I told you not to call me your bullshit pet names, Sullivan.”

“And I wouldn’t be forced to resort to that had you not used your surveillance time to screw your wife, pumpkin—”

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