“These kids are not good kids,” Mike told her. “I’ve seen a lot, Angel, and there are those you can look in their eyes and see that they might seek redemption. See that they might have somethin’ in them that’ll guide them to seein’ the error of their ways. The two minions do not have that. I’ll always give benefit of the doubt. Maybe someday they’ll sort their shit. But the decent person synapse does not fire for them. Wannamaker is a different story. Met his Dad tonight and he’s an asshole. Such a dick, swear to God, for a second I found myself wantin’ to take that piece of shit kid under my wing so he’d have some experience of a decent adult in his life. What’s broke inside him, his Dad broke. On top of that, he’s skinny, he’s got acne and if he didn’t become a bully, he’d be bullied. He looks in the mirror and for a variety of reasons does not like what he sees. It’ll take an act of God to sort his shit. This does not mean good things. Those kids get off on dicking with people. Fin and No without question, especially if their crews back them, can wipe the floor with those assholes. But that just begins bad blood that’s already simmering. I don’t find a way to nip this shit in the bud right now, we’re in for it. And whether you agree with this or not, normally, I’d let Fin and No deal. I’d advise but they’re both gettin’ older and they gotta learn to make the decisions that’ll lead them into the men they’re gonna be. What I do not like is that Rees is the target of their venom. That makes me jittery.”
“You talk to Fin, I’ll talk to Fin with you and for good measure we’ll have Dad there. And I don’t know if you’ll agree to this or not but I suggest Rees be there. He looks to her to ease him. He cares about what she thinks. Honestly, of all of us, I think the person who he’d listen to most is her.”
Mike looked back at the ceiling but he did it nodding. It was without a doubt that Finley Holliday had bonded with Mike’s daughter and thought the world of her. But this could swing two ways. She might talk him down or those kids might be persistent and Fin would do what he felt he had to do to protect her.
Dusty was silent for a moment then she asked softly, “How did you nab all three of them at once?”
Mike’s eyes went back to his woman. “Those kids are assholes but they’re not stupid. I didn’t go out the front, came at them from the side. They didn’t expect me and even if they did, they didn’t expect me to come from the side. When they saw me, they saw I was pissed. I trained my weapon on them and told them not to move a fucking muscle. They didn’t. Then I told them to get down to their knees. They did. I searched them for weapons then I told them to march their asses into my house. They did that too.”
Her eyes drifted and she muttered, “I would have run.”
“And you did that shit to my yard, you woulda got shot at.”
Her eyes sliced to his and she asked, “You would have shot them?
“No, I would have shot at them and scared the shit out of them. They might have gotten away but they’d be runnin’ in dirty jeans.”
She grinned at him, her hand sliding up to curl around his neck and her face getting closer as she whispered, “My alpha protective hot guy.”
“Don’t fuck with a man’s yard.”
Her grin got bigger.
“Or his son’s car, no matter it’s a piece of shit.”
Her grin turned into a smile.
“Or his daughter.”
Her smile died, her face got soft and her fingers tensed at his neck.
Mike lifted a hand, curled it around the back of her head, pulling her to him and feeling her soft hair gliding across his skin. He touched her mouth to his then released the pressure and caught her eyes.
“Shuteye now, darlin’. I’m wiped.”
“Me too,” she whispered then pulled away to roll toward her light.
Mike reached toward his and saw Layla was lying on the floor by his bed. No longer bed dog, now she was watchdog.
Shit, he loved his dog.
Instead of reaching to the light, he reached down and patted her rump. She twisted her head around to give him a look of appreciation but settled back, her eyes to the door, when he reached for the light, plunging the room into darkness.
Instantly, Dusty snuggled into him again and Mike shoved a hand under her to wrap his arm around her waist.
“I hope all this gets sorted before Hunter, Jerra and the kids get here for spring break next week. It would suck, vandals, kids fighting, sisters on a rampage, etc. was going down when we should be visiting and having fun,” Dusty remarked.
“I get the sense, it’s not sorted, they’ll deal,” he replied.
“This is true,” she muttered, settling with her head on his shoulder.
“Sleep now, honey.”
“Right.”
“’Night, Angel.”
“’Night, gorgeous.”
Dusty pressed closer and her arm around his gut got tight for a second then released.
Mike stared at the dark ceiling and, as Dusty’s body relaxed and her weight settled into him as she found sleep, in the silent darkness, he could no longer keep it at bay.
Something was coming and it wasn’t good. His gut had been tight with it all day. And that shit tonight wasn’t it.
And being a cop for twenty years, he’d learned to listen to his gut.
Quietly, he whispered, “Shit,” into the dark.
Layla gave a soft woof of agreement.
Right.
There it was.
Even the dog sensed it.
Shit.
Chapter Nineteen
Done with Your Shit
Mike rolled me to my back and his hand slid down my side, in, down my belly, down, down. With his elbow cocked, his eyes holding mine, my arms around him, his fingers started playing between my legs with intent as I breathed hard and held on tight.
God, what he was doing with his fingers felt good.
God, it felt good.
“Baby,” I breathed and he dropped his head, treating me to a slow burn kiss as his fingers kept at me.
That was better. Way better. God. God.
We were in the burn phase of the kiss when my hips started moving, my belly tightened and Mike broke the kiss. I focused dazedly on him as I saw his eyes moving over my face, down my body to his hand between my legs.
My hips kept moving, my hands roaming the skin of his back as his eyes traveled back to mine.
“Jesus, fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
“Mike,” I whispered, my nails digging in.