Page 57 of Calypso's Shield
My lips land hard on Calypso’s, and she moans into my mouth. I swallow the sounds as I devour her. She gives me everything back that I give her. Our hearts, our bodies, our souls.
As Calypso falls asleep against me again, I keep my eyes on the darkness outside the window.
Reyes thinks he’s coming for us, but he has no idea what’s waiting for him. I’m not the same man who took him down before, and this time, I’m not playing by the rules. This time, I’m coming for blood.
I’m sitting outside with a bottle of Crown, waiting for Ponder to get here. The whiskey burns down my throat, but it doesn’t do shit to take the edge off the storm raging inside me.
I stare at the bottle in my hand, my grip tightening. I should be inside with Calypso, keeping her close, making sure she rests, making sure she and our baby are okay. Instead, I’m out here, nursing a bad feeling that’s been clawing at my gut ever since Allura told us someone was asking around about her.
I know this game too well. Someone’s setting the board, and if there’s one thing I learned as a detective, it’s that the people pulling the strings always make sure they stay untouchable.
The sound of an engine rolling into the lot has me turning, my muscles coiling tight. It’s a blacked-out sedan, windows tinted, creeping in like it doesn’t belong here because it doesn’t.
The driver’s door opens, and Detective Matthew Ponder steps out. My old partner. The only man in the department I halfway trusted.
He doesn’t wear his badge on his belt anymore. He’s in plain clothes, jeans, and a leather jacket, looking more like one of us than one of them. But his face? That tells me everything I need to know. It’s tight, grim. He’s coming with bad fucking news.
I exhale slowly, setting the bottle down on the wooden table. “You lost, Ponder?”
His gaze flicks around the lot before settling back on me. “We need to talk.”
I nod toward the clubhouse. “Inside.”
He shakes his head. “Somewhere private.”
That has my hackles rising. I tilt my head. “How bad?”
His jaw flexes. “Bad enough that I don’t want to have this conversation where ears can pick it up.”
I don’t like it, not one fucking bit, but I jerk my chin toward the side of the building, leading him away from prying eyes. The second we’re far enough out of earshot, I cross my arms. “Spit it out.”
Ponder exhales, rubbing a hand down his face. “Reyes is out.”
I go still. Every muscle in my body locks up. The world narrows to those three fucking words.
Reyes. Is. Out.
No, that’s not possible. The bastard was put away on federal charges. Arms dealing, conspiracy, and corruption. He should have been rotting behind bars for another twenty years at least.
I take a step closer, my voice low, deadly. “How?”
Ponder shakes his head. “I don’t have all the details yet, but it wasn’t legal. It wasn’t a parole situation or some bureaucratic bullshit. This was an inside job.”
“Who?” My fists clench.
Ponder hesitates for half a second, then exhales sharply. “Senator William Grant.”
I freeze. I know that name. Everyone in law enforcement knows that name. Grant’s been a big shot in California politics for years, but before that, he was LAPD brass. Chief of Police before he made the jump to the political game, and he’s dirty as hell.
I inhale sharply, piecing it together. “Reyes worked for him.”
Ponder nods. “And he was a liability. When you took him down, you didn’t just take out a dirty cop. You took out a man who had dirt on some very powerful people. Grant made sure Reyes stayed quiet, but now he needs him again.”
It clicks into place like a loaded chamber. Grant doesn’t just want Reyes out, he wants Reyes to clean up loose ends, and I’m the biggest loose end he has.
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. It’s sharp, bitter, and filled with the kind of rage that only comes when you know the fight has already started.
“How long?” I ask, my voice low.
