One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

“A gift?” Her voice only wavers slightly. “But we barely—”

“Something everyone might find interesting.”

Patrick and I exchange a glance.

Sloan’s hand goes into his front pocket, and all three of us brace ourselves. The quiet in our small room is broken by the soft scrape of Patrick’s gun coming out if its holster. My partner’s ready if Sloan pulls out a weapon.

But when we see what has in his pocket, Patrick lowers the gun.

Sloan’s “gift” is significant only to me, and for a moment, I stare dumbfounded at the thin gold chain with the tiny heart dangling from his outstretched hand. Melissa’s necklace. He was there, and he took it.

His meaning is complete. Message received.

In that moment something in me shifts, and two things happen at once: I lunge for the door, and Patrick throws his body in front of me, blocking it. The two of us are locked in a power struggle that I’m about to win.

“What is it?” Star’s Marilyn-voice floats to us, unaware of the battle happening behind the glass.

“It’s what I would give you if you hadn’t already stolen it.” Those words drop a veil of rage over my vision, and I’m about to throw my partner out of the way.

Patrick’s legs are braced against the door. “Derek! Don’t blow this,” he grunts in a whisper. “Don’t let him bait you.”

I’m so fucking insane with fury, I can barely see, but somehow I mange to find control. I know Patrick’s right. We don’t have evidence yet, and Sloan’s fishing. If he knew for sure we were here, he would’ve already bolted.

It takes all the willpower I possess to step away from the door. I’m breathing hard, and I pace the small room, waiting. Just waiting. Counting slowly as I step—left, right, left… One, two, three…

Slowly coming down.

“It’s a heart.” Star takes the necklace from him. “I stole your heart? Are you joking?”

“Are you?” His voice is ridiculing again, and he shoves her back against the wall, his forearm pressing against her collarbone and throat. “Do you think I’m that easy to play?”

Her face begins to turn red, and her eyes squeeze shut. His forearm is right across her esophagus, and a gasping wail comes out. We wait on edge as he rams his hand in her crotch working her hard.

“You think you’re going to fuck with me?” His face is leaned close to her ear, and it looks to me like she’s fighting tears. “You like that?”

In an instant, Patrick and I are once again locked in a power-struggle for the door.

“Let me go, Patrick, it’s too much.” My voice is a strained whisper. I could overpower him, but he stops me.

“She can get out of that hold.” Patrick hisses back. “Don’t blow the job. Just give her a chance.”

She snorts louder, and the dim light catches moisture on her upper lip. My chest collapses. I’m not sure she’s getting out of this, and I’ll be damned if I fucking let him kill her with us steps away.

“Move, Patrick.” I push against him once more, but his legs are braced. His entire body is levered against mine, and I can tell he’s using all the strength he has to keep me in this room.

Sloan’s voice cuts through our struggle. “You like that, don’t you. Fucking cunt. I have all the power here.”

Star’s face is turning purple, and I’m about to lift Patrick off the ground when we both hear her mumbling. We stop fighting and wait, looking intently through the two-way glass.

Sloan also pauses, loosening his pressure on her neck. “Are you begging, my love?”

She mumbles again, repeating the word in a whisper. “Sangria…” Her knees buckle, and she crumples to the floor.

Patrick is weightless in my grasp, and I realize he’s off the door, spinning toward it. I follow him through faster than Sloan can react.

My partner’s headed for Star. Light reflects off the gold chain in her limp hand. I’m headed straight for Sloan.

The last words out of the bastard’s mouth are. “What the fuck?”