Page 24 of The Piece You Stole

I hold my breath, hoping the cop finds an excuse—anyexcuse—to shoot Nathan. Cops aren’t my favorite people in the world, but if this one puts a bullet between Nathan’s eyes… I think I could learn to like them. A little.

Clearly, I’m hoping for too much because there’s no gunfire, no sound of Nathan’s dead body hitting the ground, and no justice for Simon or Dad.

At least, not today.

The cop with the busy hands finishes searching for whatever weapon he thinks I’m concealing between my legs and jerks me to my feet, using my arms to do it.

Crying out as my shoulders scream from intense pressure, and blinded when my hair whips into my eyes, I’m next to useless at seeing where I’m going.

The cop shoves me away from Rylan’s Lexus and toward a black and white patrol car with its engine still running and its flashing lights off. Guess they must not have wanted to let us know they were coming.

A wolf killed Simon outside the hospital. It tore out his throat and left him in a pool of his own blood. I know because I watched it happen. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed seeing how fast a shifter could kill a man.

Yet the cops think I did it.

Why?

Maybe the panic hasn’t had a chance to set in yet because I just feel numb. Like this isn’t happening to me at all.

How can this be real?

I pass the blond, curly-haired cop, who angles his head a little to give me a thin-lipped smirk. But, as if he recognizes Nathan is still a threat, he stands, black handgun gripped with both hands, legs shoulder width apart, and keeps the thing pointed right at Nathan’s head.

Getting into the back of a squad car isn’t any easier at twenty-one than it was when I was thirteen. In a dress and heels with my hands handcuffed behind me means I can’t help at all.

The cop shoves me in, calls outjustafter I’ve cracked my head on the roof, “watch your head,” and then I’m sliding across cold hard plastic, my face coming within an inch of smashing into the black bars covering the window on the other side.

The first time cops found me wandering the streets when I should have been at school, I asked about the black plastic covering the backseats.

“Easier to clean when little girls shit themselves.” A cop smirked at me, right before he shoved me inside.

They were all as bad as each other.

Sometimes they’d threaten to toss me in a cell, but they never did.

Instead, they’d take me to the station where they’d call a social worker to take me home, breathe potent, black coffee breath in my face as they perched on their desks, cracking joke after joke about me having a long future on my back to look forward to. At thirteen, I wasn’t a kid anymore, but I wasn’t an adult either, so it took me longer than it should have to figure out what they meant.

The small, dark-haired cop slams my door shut, making the car rock, returning me to the present.

Safe from predators for the moment, I shuffle about so I’m facing the front. Wrinkling my nose at the powerful lemon-bleach scent, I do my best to ignore it, and try—and fail—not to think about what must have happened that whoever cleaned back here needed to use so much Lysol.

A plasticky, reinforced glass separates me from the two cops sliding into the seats in front. The greasy-smelling blond cop keeps his eyes and his gun trained on Nathan until he’s stuffed his six-foot frame into the car. Only then does he yank his hand in, slam the door shut, and the dark-haired cop takes off with a squeal of rubber.

And then it’s just me and the cops who Simon lied to. For me.

The dark-haired cop pulls out of the underground parking lot, makes a hard left, and lifts his gaze from the road to peer at me through the rear-view mirror.

I take in the darkness filling their walnut-brown depths, and I remember Simon Trevor’s words in the hospital.Not all people in this world are good people. You can find bad ones everywhere.

I’ve come across more than my fair share of bad ones. Cops included. And the way this cop is eyeing me? There’s not a hint of doubt in my mind about which type he is because not all shifters are predators, and not all humans are safe.

CHAPTER 7

DARIEL

“You realize it’s not going to be as straightforward as you fucking your mate and running back to the city, brother?” Leandro delivers his words with lazy amusement. “Is that why you ran back home? Your wolf savaged someone, and you’re waiting for things to cool down? Or you decided you want to be Alpha after all?”

Twelve years ago, a seventeen-year-old boy walked away. He left everything behind: a closet full of designer clothing, a trust fund worth millions, a beautiful mate, and a future as the Alpha of one of the most influential packs in the country.

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