Page 48 of Keeping Ava

However, the woman upstairs, she’s everything to me. More so than my job. More so than my life.

The one behind the wheel sees me coming and taps the other on the shoulder. Both sets of eyes are on me. Sizing me up. Fucking idiots. Once I’m close, they roll their windows down. “Is there something we can do for you, Detec—”

“Anything happens to her, and it’s me you’ll have to worry about.”

The cop on the passenger side bristles, his body tensing. “Is that a threat?”

“No.” Both relax and even let out a small chuckle. “It’s a motherfucking promise.”

The laughter ceases, and it’s the driver, Officer McGrady, that addresses me, his eyes narrowing. “Captain Perez will hear about—”

“I’ll tell him myself. Word for word,” I snap, slamming my hand on the top of the car. Eyeing the squad car’s numbers, I catalogue them for later tracking. I’m friends with many in my precinct, and having this one monitored won’t be hard. “All that matters is that she’s safe. No one goes in. Understood?”

“Understood,” Stein says, holding a hand up in a show of peace. “We know how important this is, Ford...that everyone’s on edge with the possibility of catching the son of a bitch.”

“Then we won’t have any problems.” I give them a nod. “Just keep her safe.”

* * *

We’ve been driving for a little over two and a half hours now, and our destination is close. Adrenaline should be pumping through my system, my body thrumming with energy, and thus far I have nothing.

No bouncing of my leg.

No clenching of hands.

No itch to run out of the car and snap his neck.

From our report, we’re so close to the asshole, and yet, ever since leaving my building, something’s off. I have doubts. Jason’s in Yuma, Arizona, spotted and identified with a woman who’s physically similar to Karla, but my gut says they’re wrong.

To go back.

Yet, if there’s the smallest possibility to catch him and save her, I can’t walk away. To serve and protect was my oath, and she—they both deserve that I see this through. We have to get to her before—

“Everything all right with Ava?” Perez asks from beside me as he turns our headlights off and pulls into a desolate parking lot. The area has poor lighting and a few abandoned warehouses attached; it once belonged to an old mattress company that manufactured and distributed on site.

Hell, even the old company trucks are still here.

“She’s fine.”

“Why the secrecy?” Instead of answering him this time, I open my door and exit the car as do the officers in the other three squad cars with us: two from Arizona and one from San Diego. They want this scumbag off the streets. He’s been watching me closely since we met up at his office. Gauging my mood. “Ford, if something is wrong—”

“I just called her to check in.” I don’t look at him as I walk to the back, pop the trunk, and put my bulletproof vest on. After we catch the jerk-off, I’ll tell him and accept whatever disciplinary action the department gives, but not before. I’m not being pulled from this case. “She’s worried, but okay.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all that matters.” From our viewpoint, I see a few windows and an open door near the right side. There’s a light coming from within; it’s bright, and if I pay close enough attention, I can hear music. Old school rap. What the fuck? “Something is off, sir.”

“We have to make sure.” I can hear the doubt in his tone, but I still agree that we should. The captain looks around at those with us, his face serious. “You all have your orders. Get in and save the girl. Keep her safe, but him, dead or alive makes no difference to me. This ends here.”

Everyone nods, and the men fall into line behind me while Perez stays outside with another member of our team. Their job is to watch the door and shoot, if necessary, anyone that runs from the building not wearing a blue uniform.

I give the command to follow as I walk across the lot slowly, watching where we step so as to not alert them of our arrival. The closer we get, the louder the music becomes, and I hear two voices, both male, laughing about something.

Holding a finger up, I point toward the right and two officers rush to the other side of the building, blocking any exit attempt. Once in place, I take my position and on the count of three, barge in, guns drawn.

“Police! Down on the ground!” I yell out as the men behind me follow suit. There’s a woman’s scream from somewhere in the back and then the sound of a shots being fired, then another as a body crashes through a door.

My instincts kick in, and a red haze overtakes my senses. I’m on autopilot as I press the trigger—firing twice into the chest of a man raising his own gun toward me. He falls to the ground with a bullet hole in his neck, choking on his own blood as the life drains from his open eyes.

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