Page 5 of The Long Game

It made for a peaceful,legalworkplace and was the reason Jack was willing to be employed there.

That, and Kramer was willing to hire convicted criminals.

“He doesn’t come in here,” Jack said.

“I don’t give a shit,” the man announced, flipping a table to clear a more direct path to Jack. “Tell him Clyde wants his money.”

Another table went over while a good number of customers, along with Michelle and some of the staff, fled out the door. Jack was glad to see them go even while cold dread crawled across his skin at the idea of ending up alone with this guy.

His fight or flight instinct screamed at him to run, but he choked up on the bat, still out of sight, and scrambled to come up with a way to end this peacefully. He considered trying to callaround to see if Kramer could, in fact, be scared up, but Jack didn’t want to facilitate whatever transaction was meant to go down between Clyde and Kramer.

Clyde, however, didn’t need to know that.

“Let me see if I can find him. Clyde, you said?” he asked like he was Robert Kramer’s social secretary.

“Yeah. Clyde Miller. And hurry the fuck up.”

“Gotcha.” Jack tugged his cellphone from his pocket, grateful that Grady, the insistent fucker, had programmed his number into Jack’s phone,just in caseJack ever needed him. At least Grady wasn’t also the type to sayI told you so.

Grady answered on the first ring. “Jack?” He sounded surprised, which was reasonable given Jack had never called him before.

“You’re needed at the Brunswicker, boss.”

And that was all it took.

No questions. No arguments. Jack had been prepared to try to fake his way through an entire conversation, but all Grady said was, “I’m on my way,” and hung up.

Jack blinked down at his phone, then textedClyde Miller looking for Kramer.

Got itimmediately came back.

Jack waved his phone at Clyde, who was too far away to read the screen. “He’s on his way.”

Clyde grunted and folded his arms over his chest. The few remaining customers and staff moved swiftly to close out checks while the bussers left the tables uncleared. Thankfully, Clyde completely ignored the steady trickle of people out the door.

Not three minutes after hanging up on Jack, Grady slipped inside, calm as you please. That he would have needed every one of those three minutes to haul ass from his office and run down the street like a fucking lunatic didn’t show at all.

There was probably something wrong with Jack that he found that hot. Now was reallynotthe time.

Grady scanned the room, assessing Clyde briefly before focusing on Jack. His big brown eyes skimmed over Jack’s face and torso, clearly checking to make sure Jack was okay. A curious warmth bloomed in Jack’s chest and he had the weirdest urge to smile like a dope. He didn’t know why or what to do with his reaction, but he suddenly regretted calling Grady, because just theideaof Grady getting hurt made Jack feel sick.

Jack adjusted his grip on the baseball bat and watched Grady for any clue of what to do.

The fuckerwinked.

Clyde’s beady eyes narrowed on Jack’s startled expression, then he spun to find Grady standing ten feet away. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“Alberta, originally. More importantly, though, I’m Officer Grady McDonnough, RCMP,” Grady said conversationally. “And you’re under arrest.”

Clyde charged for Grady and Jack vaulted over the bar, bat in hand and heart in throat. He didn’t want any part of this, but he’d be damned if he was going to let Clyde Miller lay a hand on Grady.

Then Grady went all super-cop.

With four deft moves, Grady deflected Clyde’s fist, spun the enormous man around, wrenched his arm behind his back, and slammed him facedown on the only table still standing in the vicinity.

Jack stood with his mouth hanging open, flushed and weak-kneed from a surge of adrenaline and that recently developed and much-lamented action-hero kink.

Grady snapped on the cuffs and recited the warning. “…you need not say anything. You have nothing to hope from any promise or favor and nothing to fear from any threat whetheror not you say anything. Anything you do or say may be used as evidence…”

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