I got only a garbled noise from the other end of the line.
“And I know you, so I know you’re worried ’cause you don’t wanna be a selfish prick in bed, but think about that a second.”
“It’s all I’m thinking about at the moment,” he rasped.
“You love me.”
“I used to, back at the beginning of this conversation.”
I scoffed. “Oh, no, baby, I know better,” I crooned. “You love me bad. You ache with it, and because of that, I know you will take care of me when I’m under you in bed.”
The sharp inhale made me grin like an idiot.
“So Ian, come home and I’ll feed you and then you can have your wicked way with me.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I know.”
“But I think about having you wrapped around me… in every way… all the fuckin’ time.”
My stomach flipped over and my cock hardened painfully fast in my jeans. “Come home now.”
“I swear to God I will be there as fast as I can.”
“Looking forward to it, marshal.”
“Aww, don’t call me—”
“I’m really good at following orders.”
“Jesus, Miro, get off the phone before I gotta explain to Kohn why I have a boner in the middle of the office.”
I was laughing when I hung up.
SINCE I decided on the way to the sidewalk that pie wasn’t going to hit the spot, I got in my truck and headed over to Webster Avenue instead. I wanted to get some cupcakes from Sweet Mandy B’s, because honestly, they made these awesome jumbo ones we could eat in bed. I had a one-track mind.
After I got dessert, I headed over to The Silver Spoon near west Armitage and north Halsted to pick up the keychain I’d ordered for Aruna. It was a silver circle I’d had hand stamped with her hubby’s and her daughter’s names. She’d been taking care of Chickie so much, I wanted to make sure she knew I appreciated her, and that boutique was one of her favorites.
I had parked my truck around back of one of the buildings, and after I hit the alarm and got in, there was a tap on my window.
Jolting with panic, I turned to find a stunning woman in an outfit that looked like she’d walked off the cover of a fashion magazine giving tips for fall layering. The diamond wedding ring on her left hand was the size of a small ice rink. I immediately rolled down my window.
“Can I help you?” I asked, breathing through my nose, calming my racing heart. Gun-shy was an understatement for what I was.
“Marshal Jones?”
Instantly I was on edge. How the hell did she know my name? “Yes.”
She took a breath and her eyes welled with tears. “I have a daughter—her name is Saxon and I know, what was I thinking? All the boys are going to call her Sax when she gets older and then it’ll be Sexy Saxy and later on Sex instead of Sax but I figured she had time to yell at me, right? She had all the time in the world.”
Oh, she was so scared, and the rambling was only half of it. Her hands were shaking, her voice was going in and out, and she was maybe another minute and a half away from hyperventilating.
“Ma’am,” I began, opening my door a crack.
She slammed it closed. “No! Ohmygod, you can’t get out of the truck! What if I can’t get you back in there after or—he’ll kill her!”
She was now sobbing, pulling in those great gulps of air, totally breaking down. And I understood why, of course.
Craig Hartley was a scary sonofabitch who made good people do very bad things. It was why she pulled the gun out of her purse and leveled it at me. She really needed me to listen.
EMERSON WENTWORTH Rice was in the kitchen when the back door opened and her husband came through, followed by a man holding a gun on him. Quickly, efficiently, he asked her if she could help him with a serious matter. When she didn’t answer, he shot her husband in the stomach. The screaming began then.
“He has my little girl,” Emerson said now, her explanation halting because she was still doing the half-crying half-talking thing people did when they were scared out of their minds.
She’d been allowed to call 911 for her husband of fifteen years before she and her daughter were loaded into the BMW SUV and driven away. She had no idea if he was dead or alive. What she did know was that she got to trade me for her daughter, and by God, that was what was going to happen.
“I’m really sorry about this,” she assured me as she leaned against the passenger door, both hands on the weapon, making sure that if I twitched she blew off the side of my face. “But he wants you and I want my daughter.”