“Sasha Hamilton is relentless,” David announced, shaking his head with laughter, as soon as I stepped through the doors at the station.

“If she brings you cupcakes, muffins, or cake, call me.” I warned.

His eyes shot wide. “She’s something else.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Knowing that I’d almost kissed her, and that I felt her broken breath on my lips and felt her body tremble against mine had set something off inside of me. Usually, I was in control of everything, but at that moment I lost it. That mouth of hers was going to undo me. Any other time I would have shut that down, but now I wanted more of it. I wanted to push her buttons, get her riled up, and go head-to-head with her because I knew I’d be given the gift of seeing the fire in her eye. I could never have predicted the girl I’d seen wearing those ass-cheek-showing jean shorts all those years ago would become the woman with a body of sin who wore tights skirts and fuck me heels better than anyone else, and who could possibly be the only woman who could put up with my bullshit.

After I got to my desk, I unloaded my pockets of my keys, wallet, and phone and turned to Austin.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Prints were rushed through from the break-in at Sasha’s store.”

“And?” I pushed, hoping he’d hurry up and get to the point.

He jerked his head to the side, toward the interrogation room, and started moving. The fact that he couldn’t discuss the results in the common area sounded alarm bells. Once inside, he closed the door behind us and sucked in a breath. This was not good. Whatever he had to say he knew I was not going to like it.

“Hart, start fucking talking.” I growled, my patience running out.

“Prints on the door and lock came back matching O’Leary’s. What doesn’t match up is that the only prints found in her office belonged to Sasha, Missy Rogers, and Sasha’s casual employee, a young girl by the name of Anna Adams.”

Edward O’Leary was a motherfucker of epic proportions and I’d known him for what felt like a lifetime. I’d been working on putting away his ass for a long fucking time. His return to Monroe signaled that he’d brought his filth to town. His dirty hands were into just about everything, but his preferences were women and drugs. He had a fondness for finding women who were down on their luck and promising them a life they could only dream of. Next thing they knew they were giving blowjobs for the cost of a whiskey, offering their pussy for the price of a movie and popcorn, and so far in debt that they felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. But just over two years ago, he made a grave mistake. He made it personal. But now, he’d made it really fucking personal.

I tried and failed to get control of my mounting anger, and my words came out hostile. “Where the fuck is he now?”

Austin had been beside me throughout it all, so my reaction did not faze him. “Captains got men out looking for him.”

“Right.” I clenched my jaw, although I didn’t accept that as a suitable response.

I stormed out of the interrogation room, the door swinging back and bouncing off the wall due to the force, and I thundered to my desk. After jamming my phone and wallet into my pocket, I clipped on my badge to my belt, secured my gun, and headed for the door with fierce determination in my steps.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Austin roared behind me.

“I’m not sitting around here twiddling my thumbs while that motherfucker is in town doing god only knows what.”

“Calm the fuck down. What do you expect to do when you find him? Believe me, I want to bring him in as much as you, but you of all people know we cannot fuck this up. You storming out of here pissed off, and needing to prove a fucking point, does not help.”

We locked in a silent standoff while our thoughts screamed at one another. We’d been best friends since we could walk. We’d played high school and then college football together, and here we were both working for the Monroe PD. He knew shit about me that no one else did, as I did about him. Simply put, we’d take a bullet for one another, and on many occasions it almost came down to that. We’d already lived through a shit storm when it came to Edward O’Leary, and now the shit storm was way too close to home.

And he was right.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Captain demanded, stepping out of his office and looking between the two of us with a face mixed with fury and exhaustion.

“O’Leary is out there, doing god only knows what, and I’m here sitting at a desk. It’s bullshit.”

“We have men out there, and they’ll bring him in. If you can’t get a hold of yourself, you will not be getting anywhere near him.”

My gaze shot to the roof as I tried to gain control. Flashbacks hit me. I spent six months working undercover on a case in Salt Lake because of O’Leary. I’d done and seen shit I couldn’t erase from my memories. Even though we’d both come from Monroe, he had no clue who I was and that served me well in the case. I’d also had a first hand view at his shit destroying someone that meant something to me. He’d stolen someone from my family. That shit made this person. That was on his head, and I knew he had blood on his hands. But the fucker was slippery. He had his crew do the dirty work and go down instead of him. That’s why he was still walking the streets like his shit didn’t stink. That’s why he thought he was untouchable.

He wasn’t.

“I’m good,” I said between gritted teeth.

Captain gave me the once over, before warning, “Don’t make me regret it.”

* * *

An hour had passed since O’Leary stormed back into my life and my anger hadn’t subsided. I was seconds away from going against Captain’s orders and getting out on the road, determined to bring him in myself.

“Info just came in about the last known whereabouts of last nights victim.”

I closed the file I’d been reading and looked over at Austin.

“And according to his phone records, his last known whereabouts before the warehouse was . . . Fuck.”

My interest piqued. “Where?”

“Hamilton’s.”

This was getting more fucked up by the second.

“How about the names Jones gave of the people that paid him to pick up delivery? Did Jones prints come back?”

“Both names came back relatively clean. Nothing that jumps out. And Jones is clear.”

Just as expected.

I sat back against my chair and rubbed my hands over my face as I let everything sink in. O’Leary. Hamilton’s. Sasha. This was getting entwined and unease lodged itself deep in my gut. What more could possibly happen?

“Hunt, Hart,” We both looked over at Captain when his low rumbled hit the air. “O’Leary’s been spotted. He’s at Missy’s Diner, and he’s with Drew Hamilton. He’s getting brought in now.”