“Did you call the fuckin’ cops, sweetheart?”
It’s my phone, lying on the bed, and there on the screen is a live call to the last number I talked to: Director Willis.
…Abby went and called the fucking CIA.
“You call the cops, you dumb bitch?” Nino sneers. “Sweetheart, the Lucretas have so many cops on the payroll, it’d make your goddamn head spin,” he spits. “But just the same…”
His look turns dark.
“I think someone better teach you a lesson about what happens to rats.”
He grins lecherously as he reaches for his belt, and I can feel the fury building up as I prepare myself to lunge for him again, when Abby starts to laugh.
“No,” she says cheerily, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “No, I didn’t call the cops, asshole.”
Suddenly, there’s a whirring sound from somewhere outside. Two whirring sounds, actually. And lights, splaying out over the glass from down below. A bunch of Nino’s guys frown in confusion, glancing around, murmuring to each other as they chamber rounds in their guns and swear under their breaths.
Nino pales for a second, glancing around before he whirls on her.
“Who the fuck did you call?”
Abby, my wife, just fuckin’ grins. And right then is when every single one of my huge factory windows just explode, and the whole goddamn room shatters into chaos.
And in comes the fucking CIA.
Guys in full tactical gear come repelling through the shattered windows, and two helicopters swoop into view, blasting my loft with flood lights. The elevator doors wrenches open as an entire unit of what appears to be a SWAT team pours into the place.
…Nino’s guys give up the fight in less than two seconds.
But then, I’m not about to let him putting his hands on and threatening my wife go unpunished. I charge him with a bellowing roar, slamming him into the brick wall behind him with a thud. His gun goes flying, fear plastered on his face as I snarl, hauling back before slamming my fist into his face. The piece of shit cries out, tumbling to the ground. But I’m not even close to done with him. I keep hitting him, over and over, a roar like some kind of primeval monster heaving from my lungs, until there’s a light touch on my shoulder.
And instantly, I stop.
I take a breath, turning, my chest heaving as my eyes lock on Abby’s gorgeous face.
“Hey,” she says quietly, reaching up to cup my face. “Hey, come back to me.”
I close my eyes, taking a deep, long, shaky breath. And when I let it out, suddenly, the rage goes with it. The beast inside retreats.
…Damn, how the hell does she do that?
I open my eyes to find her smiling at me.
“There you are,” she purrs, pulling me close and wrapping her arms around me. I hug her back, burying my face in her neck as I breathe her in. Around us, the CIA team is swarming the room, cuffing every single one of the guys the Lucretas sent for us. I look up and catch a face I know striding in from the elevator. And when he sees me, Director Willis nods curtly and marches over.
See, here’s the thing: even if I hated the Lucretas, I still abide by the code. And the code says, ratting out other criminals, even if I’m kind of going “legit,” is a no go. But in my book, and the book of pretty much everyone else on the street who’s gonna hear about this, the Lucreta family crossed a line when they started laundering money for ISIS and the fucking Taliban. And at that point, it’s not ratting out the mob. It’s ratting out terrorists.
And fuck that.
Even the criminals of this city have a code, and that shit is beyond the pale. I have zero worries about having to look over my shoulder for other criminals after this gets out.
“Mr. Jennings,” Willis calls out as he marches over.
Next to me, Abby snorts. “Mr. Jennings?” She snorts again. “That’s a first.”
“Hey, I’m a respectable CEO now,” I growl, turning and teasing her with a finger digging into her ribs. She giggles, shoving my hand away as Willis steps over to us. He glances around the place, nodding thoughtfully.
“Well, this is one way to kick off our investigation.”
“The time table got moved up. I had to act.”
He nods. “Calling was a smart move. We triangulated your cell and mobilized as quick as we could.”
I grin, turning and nodding my chin at Abby. “That was all her, actually.”
Willis’s brows arch. “Smart thinking, miss…”
“It’s Mrs., actually,” Abby says with a smile on her face. “Mrs. Jennings.”
Willis’s brows manage to arch even more as he turns back to me. “You’ve got a smart wife, Mr. Jennings. Hang on to her.”
I grin. “I have every intention of doing so.”
“Good man. Listen, I need to go start processing all these assholes. Why don’t you rest, and tomorrow, we’ll sit down in the field office and decide how we’re going to move on the rest of the Lucratas now that things have sped up time-line-wise. Sound good?”