Page 39 of Fighting for Brielle
“Hmm?” His tongue circled her delicate ear. He felt her shiver in his arms.
“Well, um, are you going to put me down or take me to bed? Or both? Because…”
His face turned red. He held her pressed against the hard bulge in his jeans. Sweet Jesus! Justice set Brielle on her feet.
“Oh. I’m?God, I’m so embarrassed.”
She chuckled low in her throat which caused his stomach to tighten as he grew harder. “Don’t be. It felt nice and…impressive.”
He guffawed. “Just wait.”
“How long?”
Justice threw his head back and let out a roar of laughter. “Well, I’ve never measured it, but I think it’s probably…”
She slapped him playfully on the arm and chortled. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant! Though,” she cast her eyes downward, “Iamcurious.”
He grew serious as he brushed her hair off her forehead and trailed his fingers down her jawline. “So am I. I want to know if we’ll be combustible in bed.”
Justice wrapped an arm around her and drew her into his embrace. His lips skittered across her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, and finally possessed her mouth in a hot, erotic kiss.
“My guess is combustible,” Brielle murmured when they drew apart.
“We’ll know soon enough. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She grabbed one more kiss. “Good night.”
* * *
The next day Justice checked in with the forensics tech, who didn’t have any new information to report, on the case involving the HK416 and the ammo. Afterward, he headed down to the beach, patrolling it himself, learning the rhythm of the Pacific and searching the rock formations for more evidence without any luck. He observed the rhythm of the beach-goers, too, getting to know the regulars and subtly asking them if they’d seen anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. No one had.
That night Justice stood at his bedroom window, watching and listening for trucks, though the area where he and Brielle discovered the assault rifle and ammo was about a mile south of his place. When he’d asked Brielle if she’d heard or seen anything lately, she said she hadn’t, either.
During the rest of the week, Justice worked out with Brielle every morning, and on Wednesday and Friday he met her at the Main Street Gym where he guided her training with a single purpose. To teach her how to handle herself like a SEAL. When they parted in her driveway, he didn’t do anything more than span her waist with his hands, holding her against him as he ravished her mouth with his. He ached to explore her body fully, to cup her perfect breasts in his hands, to consummate his growing passion for her. But he was afraid of being on the receiving end of anotherDear Justicetext message if he took Brielle to bed too soon.
By Friday he’d ridden along with a few of the other officers and decided it was time to put his team together. He had four individuals already in mind, with one spot left. Moving forward with his investigation was his top priority. Justice couldn’t wait for Officer Carson to report for duty on Monday. He wondered if Carson knew he’d found the assault rifle and the ammo.
Exhausted from a full, hectic week, Justice fell into bed. Two hours later an emergency call from the station roused him.
“Chief, there’s been a shooting at the 7-11, Four Corners. Two fatalities. The suspect is still at large.”
Wide awake, he leapt out of bed. “I’ll be there in ten.”
He pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt and shoes. Justice grabbed his badge, gun, and keys and sprinted toward his Explorer. Backing out of his driveway, he flipped on the siren and flashing lights.
When he arrived at the gruesome scene, an officer waved him through, and he parked the Explorer. Ducking beneath crime scene tape, he approached the medical examiner bending over a pair of teenage boys. Around Justice, lights flashed as emergency personnel conducted their duties, and Laguna Beach police officers kept order and the looky-loos at bay.
Crouching next to the ME, Justice asked, “What have we got?”
“Several shots to the upper torso, Chief McQuaid. .38 caliber. The shells have been recovered.”
Luca approached them. “I just interviewed witnesses who claim that this is a drug deal gone bad. Our victims, Theo Ames and Pedro Martinez, owed our suspect, Arnold Dewitt, money for moving bricks for him. It sounds like they kept the money for themselves.”
River arrived at the scene and pushed his way toward them. Staring in horror at the lifeless teenagers, he cried, “No! No! It can’t be possible!” Helplessly, he shook his head. “They were clean, Chief. I swear it. Theo and Pedro were on the right track at last. I helped them find jobs and get caught up on their credits so Laguna Beach High School would allow them to return to graduate with their class. Jesus! They didn’t deserve this! They were only seventeen years old. Seventeen!”
Justice draped a comforting arm across River’s broad shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.” Turning toward Luca, he continued, “What do we know about Dewitt?”
“He’s a small-time drug dealer, twenty years old. In and out of jail since he was fourteen for various petty crimes.”
