Home > Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men #3)(60)

Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men #3)(60)
Author: Giana Darling

“You got pull?”

“Fuck,” he said again, planting his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“I’ll take that as a no?” I said, sorrowfully.

“No,” he agreed through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with turmoil as he looked up at me. “Let’s just say I didn’t want this deal I got goin’ with them, but they can be fuckin’ persuasive.”

I tipped my head and frowned questioningly at him, as if I didn’t understand just how persuasive an outlaw MC could be.

He sighed gustily and admitted. “They got me off the street walkin’ home one day, beat me so good I was coughin’ up blood and ended up in the hospital. Said it wouldn’t be the last time unless I cooperated with ’em.”

“What would they want with you?” I asked, digging carefully, an archeologist searching for confessions instead of ruins. “You poor man.”

“Arms smugglin’,” he admitted. “They got a few operations goin’, but I get they want to expand and I was their way to do it.”

Ding, ding, ding.

I grinned at him. “Thanks for that, Grant.”

He frowned at me, his face murky with confusion for one glorious moment before it cleared like clouds, revealing the full force of his realized fury.

I pointed at the camera on my necklace and grinned. “Say cheese!”

“You fuckin’ bitch!” He growled, launching himself across the desk at me.

I punched him hard in the esophagus just as Danner busted through the door, gun raised, yelling “RCMP, hands in the air.”

Grant tried to lunge for me again, still choking on my punch.

“Careful,” Danner warned, moving closer until he was at my side, his gun unwaveringly on target. “She’ll punch you in the face if you get too close.”

“Now that was fun,” I said, beaming at him as he moved around the desk and began to read Grant Yves his rights.

Only, I spoke too soon.

We hadn’t been thinking thoroughly. If the Berserkers MC had a stake in keepin’ this guy on their side, of course they’d send protection.

“Everythin’ okay in there, Yves?” a voice called up to us.

It was Runner, one of the prospects, a young kid who’d earned his name because he was flighty as fuck. Reaper had recruited him only because he was desperate for numbers.

It wasn’t ideal, having to make our way past a Berserker to get to safety, but it was good that if something had to happen to Runner, the MC wouldn’t question it. Runner was always disappearin’ for a spell.

Danner stared at me as I thought this through, his face transforming into stern, disciplinarian planes.

“Harleigh Rose,” he started to warn.

But I was off.

I ducked through the door and out onto the landing, seeing Runner peering up from the left side of the ladder.

I brought my gun up and shot. Not at him, I didn’t need any more blood on my hands, but close.

“Fuck!” he cried out, immediately running to duck behind a container close by.

“Cover me and get him to the van,” I told a wide-eyed Danner as he appeared behind me, a cuffed Grant behind him. “I’ll meet you there.”

“He’ll fucking see you,” Danner hissed as I tucked my gun in my waistband and started down the ladder. “He’ll see you and tell Reaper.”

“Not if I get him first,” I said as I disappeared over the edge and scrambled down.

A shot rang out, pinging so close to my hand on the ladder that I could feel the arm move.

Another shot, this one from Danner, and then the sound of him speaking into his mike, “Sterling, need back up at the office. Shots fired.”

I jumped to the ground and sprinted behind the container opposite Runner.

And like I knew he would, he ran after me.

I could hear his heavy boots striking the ground behind me, but I wasn’t terrified. It felt like I was flying as my long limbs carried me between the towering stacks of containers, as I led him on a merry chase I hoped I’d be able to end back at the van.

Unfortunately, I miscalculated.

Runner had been providing protection for Grant Yves long enough to figure out the configuration of containers.

Suddenly, I couldn’t hear his feet behind me.

I stopped running, my breath rasping through my lungs, hot over my tongue as it turned white in the air.

Nothing.

No sounds, but my thumping heart and wasted breath.

“Stop, police!” a voice cried from somewhere in the maze.

Then nothing, again.

Bang!

I jumped at the sound of the shot so close by and whirled around to see Runner fall to the ground at the mouth of the alley between containers, fifteen yards behind me. Then Danner, stalking over to his prone body, voice harsh but indiscernible as he read him his rights and cuffed him.

I jogged over, seeing the bullet graze bleeding lightly at Runner’s shoulder as Danner hauled him to his feet.

“You got him,” I noted, the adrenaline making me dumb, flooding my brain with too many endorphins.

Danner scowled at me then turned to Sterling who was coming up behind him with Yves. He shoved Runner at Sterling and asked, “You got ’im.”

The other cop’s eyes shot from him to me, read the fury in the air and nodded curtly. “Yeah, got them. Meet you at the station. I’ll tell Renner, you were doin’ a scan of the area to make sure it was clean.”

Danner nodded curtly at him then crossed his arms and watched the huge black man cart the two men toward the van.

Only when he was out of sight and hearing did I try. “Danner, listen—”

“Not listenin’,” he growled, lunging for me so violently, I squealed.

He pushed me hard against the side of the container, his hand on the back of my head so it wouldn’t hit, conscientious even his rage. I gasped when his other hand moved up from my hip over my belly to my neck where he gently—eyes such an intense contrast to the movement that it took my breath away—plucked the camera from my necklace and dropped it to the ground. I heard the crunch of it under his boot as he broke it.

Still, he didn’t speak. He stared at me for a long minutes before his radio squawked and the other cop in the van, Henson, confirmed that Yves and Runner were contained.

Still, he waited, staring at me with a fury so palpable I felt it slide down my throat and scorch my insides. I wanted to explain myself, but I knew there would be no words to make Danner understand why I went off half-cocked.

Then, his radio sounded again.

“Yard is all clear,” Sterling confirmed. “Got fifteen minutes then need you at the station.”

“Copy,” Danner growled into the radio.

Then his hand fisted tightly in my hair, tugging it back so viciously it brought tears to my eyes and his mouth crashed onto mine.

Immediately, I ignited. The stress and adrenaline the perfect kindling, his fury the gasoline and his lust the match.

I went up in smoke the second his hand found my tit and squeezed.

I was trembling, gunpowder residue on my hand that Danner wrapped around his thick cock.

“Jack me,” he ordered through his teeth.

I fumbled with his belt and zip then sighed when the hot width of him hit my hand. I weighted his cock in my hand then slowly, firmly began to stroke it.

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