Page 6 of Wicked Sin

“What!?” My mouth drops open. “No. That’s ridiculous.”

“Sure. Sure. If it is, this is easy enough to clear up. Would you just open your trunk for me?”

“You have no basis for a search. You said yourself that something happened today, with my father, and that’s probably—”

“I can get a warrant, Ms. Reid. And I can wait here, in front of your office, until it arrives. Or you could quietly cooperate, and we can go our separate ways before anyone notices that you’re being questioned by the police.”

“That sounds like a threat, officer.” I tap my key fob again. Still, nothing happens. Fuck.

“It’s detective, actually.”

Who the fuck cares? “I think my battery’s dead,” I mutter. “I must have left the lights on.” I make another attempt to open my car. The fucking fob isn’t working, and I want to throw it across the parking lot, but that won’t help me get away from this situation.

“Ms. Reid—”

“Leave me alone, okay? I don’t know anything. I don’t want to know anything. I haven’t done anything wrong, at least not lately, and—” I spin away from him, desperate to get to my car now. I break out into a run as he reaches for me, and I try the fob one more time as he spins me around.

Everything happens at once. A pop. A sharp, awful bang.

A heavy thud against my back, like someone just shoved me.

Heat.

Weird crackles.

And then nothing.

3

Luke

Her fucking car just exploded.

Glass everywhere, bright fucking light.

Why the fuck are we not dead?

Nothing ever truly prepares you for a car bomb—what the fuck—but that was not supposed to fucking happen here. Today. With this case that was just supposed to be a pain in the ass hoax call confirmation.

We’re still standing, so it wasn’t a very good car bomb at least. My ears are ringing, and I see spots, but Taylor’s gone completely white. She can’t pass out on me here. Not if cars are exploding.

We don’t have time for reactions. I grab her and turn, pulling and pushing to get her in front of me. Put myself between her and the parking lot. “Go,” I order. “Run for the building.”

“It’s locked,” she gasps. I see her lips moving and hear the words on a bit of a delay. Whatever that explosive was, it was loud enough to give my head a good ring. “My card—” She looks back toward the parking lot. Her bag is lying on the concrete, contents spilled everywhere. No, we’re not going back for it.

“Corner.” I point, and when she doesn’t move, I shove her. As nicely as one can in a life or death situation. We need to get to cover.

She stumbles as she runs onto the grass, and I realize she’s in heels. I’m willing to carry her if I God damn need to, but she picks up her feet and scrambles forward, faster now.

My hearing is coming back and beside me, Taylor is sucking in big, gulping breaths.

I pull my phone out as we round the corner of the building. I need backup right the fuck now.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

I give the dispatcher my name and badge number, and report what I know. Explosive device detonated, address, no injuries but potentially an unsafe scene. “Advise the bomb squad the device may not have completely detonated. Live explosive potential. There was a blast, enough to feel a heavy pulse, but we weren’t knocked down.”

The dispatcher repeats the address to me, confirming it. “Two patrol cars are on the way, detective.”

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