Page 43 of Corbin
Not up for his mouthy wolf’s criticism, Corbin sent back,Once again, your opinion holds as much value to me as a bottomless water cup.
If you listened to me sometime we would not be locked up.
Officer Thick Neck, who rode shotgun and might have played football at one time, took a mobile call. “Yes, sir.” He paused a moment, then another, “Yes, sir.” He hung up and told the driver something in cop language involving acronyms and numbers.
The driver frowned at him but nodded.
Only one day on the job and Corbin had lost the client plus gotten picked up by the police.
Not arrested, according to the officer driving, who had advised him to remain calm. Corbin was being taken in until his superior could confirm his employment with Beckham Security. He further explained the reason for being questioned was due to all local law enforcement had been instructed that only humans were allowed to protect Givenchy.
Then he’d closed the car door on any hope of this turning out okay.
Corbin’s identification had exposed him as a wolf shifter. Yes, he’d caught Givenchy sneaking out the rear of the buildings,but he should have followed her. Instead, he’d decided to confront her. Deep down, he had to admit he wanted that confrontation, but with that one wrong move, he managed to wipe out the trust he’d earned with Adrian and Jaz.
All because he couldn’t get his head turned in the right direction with this woman.
Seven years and nothing had changed.
Still the Givenchy Queen, she had only to snap her fingers to flip his life upside down. Again.
The officer riding shotgun received another phone call. “Yes, we have him in the squad car and—”
Corbin could hear noises coming from the phone receiver, but the guy talking had a thick Latin accent, which he had trouble understanding. The only thing that came through crisply was anger.
Lots of anger.
Hell. Less than twenty-four hours in public, and his life was headed down the proverbial drain.
“Yes, sir.” The officer’s grip tightened on the phone, but his tone remained respectful. “Yes, sir. Immediately.”
Then nothing. The caller had hung up on him. Thick Neck told the officer driving, “Chief wants him handed over to someone waiting at the theater, then we return to the station.”
“Why the change?” The officer driving kept splitting his attention between the road and his partner.
“Don’t ask. Hit the siren and let’s get this done.”
Corbin understood how to read between the lines, but the words he heard made no sense. Why were they taking him back to the theater?
That made no sense after going through all of this to all but arrest him. Maybe Adrian was still there. That gave him hope, which disintegrated as he recalled that these two believed he’d been stalking Givenchy.
What other law enforcement could be involved?
Oh, hell. Could it be at SCIS?
His heart rate surged.
He would not go quietly. Adrian had said not to fight law enforcement if an issue arose, and his people would come for Corbin. SCIS was entirely different in Corbin’s mind. They could shove him in an underground cell where Ares would blast out and go bat-shit crazy in a matter of hours.
Corbin would rather take a bullet to the head over a slow, maddening death.
Sweat pebbled on his neck. He looked around, searching for the best way to escape. He wouldn’t kill the human officers, but they might be banged up and unconscious by the time he broke out. That would bring Adrian’s people down on his head, but this had turned into a crisis of survival.
The driver whipped in and out of traffic at a crazy speed, and the siren cranked up. Corbin tried to cover his ears. The cuffs stopped him.
Ares howled incessantly and clawed to get out.
The noise suddenly died as quickly as it had started. The driver slowed to pull into a spot near the curb along the front of the Libertas Theater.
