Page 206 of Come Back to Me

When he obeys, I hear rumblings from the bar, but no one shoots.

As I approach him, a weather eye on the building behind us, I state, “You want to tell them to line themselves up and we won’t shoot?”

“Ain’t you the one in control of the situation?”

“I know how these things can end up and I’m trying to limit collateral damage.”

Razer grunts. “Step outside.”

“Watch yourselves,” I warn my team.

But one after another, five men exit the building, hands raised.

“They had nothing to do with it,” Razer says, sounding bored. “It was all me.”

“If we search the premises, what will we find?”

“Shit that belongs to me, you fucking idiot.”

I narrow my eyes. “It’s good of you to fall on your sword for her, but for the whole MC?”

He smirks against the hood. “Got the best lawyer money can buy.”

“One who’ll get you off an attempted murder charge?”

“Prison will be a nice vacation. I could use the break.”

His men chuckle, but I hiss, “What will we find?”

“I’ll leave the surprises up to you.” In a low voice, he asks, “Question is, why you helping my girl?”

“Because I served with Paulie and the last thing he’d have wanted was for his sister to be serving twenty-five years for murder.”

“You knew Paulie?”

“I did.”

He jolts. “Told him not to sign up. Said he’d be safer in an MC than he would fighting for a country who never gave a fuck about him.”

“Igave a fuck about him.”

“Enough to save his sister.” Razer scoffs out a laugh. “Could use this. Corrupt cop.”

“And I could arrest your seventeen-year-old daughter and have her locked up until she’s in her forties. Which option do you prefer, because anything you say won’t be believed? My word’s clean. Yours isn’t.”

He pushes his forehead into the hood. “I don’t want her to go to jail.”

“Then she won’t.” I grab his hands and go through the arrest process. “You’ll have to confess.”

“I will.”

And just as I think this whole fucking mess is over, Nunez roars, “Boss! Watch out. Brogan?—”

I don’t get the chance to know what Brogan’s doing.

I spin on my heel and watch as my K-9-trained dog, that clearly has escape artist tendencies, races toward the lineup of men.

Before I even have a chance to be scared on his behalf, time slips through my fingertips like I’m trying to collect rain.

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