Page 166 of Bossy Hero

Tomer spares a quick glance at his partner. “Mia, turn on Big Al’s dashboard and rearview cam. Bring it up on screen four and hit record.”

“Copy.”

Tomer and Mia seem to be splitting forces, with him monitoring Sawyer and Shep’s little home invasion while she watches over my Alan.

I’m torn on where to focus. Sawyer’s like one of my babies. But Alan holds my heart.

Kri must sense my mounting panic. She scoots her chair closer and slings her arm over my shoulders.

“Evening, Lancaster,” a throaty voice wheezes out.

Oof. This man sounds like a lifelong smoker who’s one pack away from using a voice box.

“Chief Bigsby,” Alan replies curtly.

Mia taps her microphone. “Lionheart, stall your approach. Hang back for now so you aren’t spotted, but be ready to advance on my signal. So far, this looks friendly.”

“Wilco.”

Hearing my loving son’s steady voice does wonders for my anxiety. Kri’s comfort doesn’t hurt either.

From the cameras and audio on Tomer’s side of the lair, I catch Sawyer and Shep talking. Unhurried, they move quietly from room to room, opening drawers and cabinets.

“You’ve never been in here, Shep?” Sawyer asks.

“Negative, Perry.”

“Shut your cock holster,” Sawyer snaps back at him.

He hates his given name. Poor child. At this point, he should legally change it.

I tune out their banter to focus on the large man with the gravelly voice who seems amused at Alan’s friendly stalking. “Lovely night for a drive, isn’t it?”

“I needed to see you, and you weren’t cooperating. What’s wrong? You pissed at me?”

My entire body leans toward the speaker as I hang on his every word.

“You want to talk, huh?” The challenge is evident in his tone. “Call off your guard dog.”

“My dog?” Alan asks in mock offense. “I don’t have a dog.”

“What do you call him, then? Your lion, right? Call him off and then power down your comms.”

All traces of friendliness have disappeared from his voice, leaving behind only irritation and that off-putting rasp.

Kri whispers, “Don’t worry. Boss won’t do that.”

“He better not.”

I shouldn’t have thought those three words, let alone spoken them into existence. It was as if Alan felt the implied challenge from across town through some mystical force. Or Fate’s come back to deal another blow.

“Fine. Lionheart, stand down,” Alan orders in a deep grumble.

Chief Bigsby utters a disapproving sound, then breaks into a coughing fit. Definitely a smoker.

Once he’s able to speak, he decrees, “No, Lancaster. Standing down isn’t good enough. I want him to turn his vehicle around and leave the area.”

“No, no, no,” I chatter, my fingertips nearly losing sensation from the intensity of my fidgety necklace twirling.

---