Page 38 of She Gives Love a Bad Name

“No buts. I’ve got the commissioner breathing down my neck on the Madison murder, and I need answers. Stop trying to find evidence that doesn’t exist and get your shit together!”

My hands clench into fists. “So, it’s political?”

“What?”

“You’re only interested in solving the high-profile cases when someone high on the food chain wants answers?” Fury pulses through me.

“Don’t push your fucking luck, Richards.” He jabs a finger at me, the cigarette bobbing wildly between his meaty fingers. “I’ll take you off this case if you can’t handle it.”

“I can handle it, sir. But—”

“No fucking excuses, detective. I expect an update on my desk by Monday, is that understood?” He grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, looking remarkably like an overstuffed badger. “Find evidence. A witness, a lead, something, or you’re off this case. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” The word tastes like bitter regret. I want to tell him exactly where to stick his order, but he’ll just pull me off the case, handing it off to someone more interested in kissing ass than solving it. I swallow my pride and leave his office before I say something I’ll regret.

Instead of burying myself in paperwork, I pack a few of the files into my messenger bag and leave the precinct. It’s still early. I can’t go home. Not yet. I can’t face Quinn.

Reality slaps me in the face. I can’t avoid her forever. She’s the only witness I have.

Even though I’ve gone over her account of that night in my head a million times, I need to hear it again from her lips. There’s something I missed. Something important.

If I want to solve this case, I need Quinn.

Problem is...Iwanther too. That’s a messy fucking complication.

Goddamn it.

With a deep breath, I weave my way through the city. By the time I reach the Black Penny, I’m sweating. And not because of the August heat.

Quinn has me twisted into knots. I don’t know how to untangle myself from this case and this stupid infatuation long enough to clearly see the details.

Maybe fucking her would purge whatever this is?

Nah. That’s a bad fucking idea. Shit gets complicated when sex is involved. We’re both in a bind. Until this case is solved, I can’t indulge the whims of my overstimulated libido and demanding cock.

With a sigh, I shake the dirty thoughts from my brain and push open the door. I can hear the washer down the hall through the open door near the bar entrance. Bracing myself, I head upstairs.

The door’s unlocked. What the fuck?

“Quinn?” I call, but there’s no answer. “Quinn, where are you?”

I drop my bag on the sofa and check the bathroom, the bedroom...fuck, I check Claude’s apartment and the rooftop.

No Quinn.

Sheer panic grips me in a chokehold.

Where the hell is she? Did they find her?

Claude. I dart down the steps and race along the hallway. Careful not to burst through the door looking like a madman, I quietly swing it open and my blood turns molten.

Quinn’s peeking into the bar from the shadows. Where she’s leaning, her halo of curls lights the wall on fire. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt pulled into a knot at the curve of her waist. A pair of cutoff shorts fray just above the indentation where her ass meets her thighs. I knew Claude brought her clothes a few days ago, but I’m going to kill him for giving her these tempting scraps of fabric.

Just beyond the wall, I catch sight of my brother. He holds my gaze and shakes his head. Like he didn’t know she was out of the apartment. I’ll deal with him later.

I readjust my lately ever-present erection and suppress the anger boiling inside me at her blatant disregard for rules I put in place to fucking keep her safe.

My hand grasps her uninjured shoulder.

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