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Illicit Behavior: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance by Nikki Wild (53)


 

 

Dark thoughts filled my head as I reached down and flipped on the old police CB. Before I even had a chance to consider whether or not I should use it to call into the station, I got caught up listening to the chatter.

 

Captain Pierce had wasted no time. He had issued an APB on Nathaniel Hale, and men were being stationed around the city even as I battered the poor car on the uneven dirt. Squinting, I could see the highway that loomed ahead, and with it, the end of this journey.

 

Don’t use the radio. Don’t let the Captain know you’re alive. Get the video. Get yourself some proof, first.

 

As I swerved the car onto the asphalt and floored it, I wondered where Nathan was. We had scheduled a meet at a small diner on Fourth Street, but he wasn’t supposed to show up there for hours. I only hoped he would keep his damn head down until all of this was over.

 

There had been so many fuck-ups today already. I didn’t want him to be another one, maybe one that I couldn’t fix. There had to be a way to make things right, and I was determined to find out how to do exactly that.

 

The miles ticked by as I hit traffic. It was nearly rush hour. That would slow me down getting out to Nathan’s mansion, but it wasn’t about to stop me. I reached over, flipping the switch on the dash that lit up the siren and lights hidden behind the grill. Like Moses parting the red sea, cars began to move aside.

 

I’m coming, Nathan…

 

I had to ignore my fears and reservations. I needed to get to the t22 receiver from the undercover car and bring the evidence to someone I trusted. If I could get to the video, maybe I could fix this.

 

The off ramp was coming up fast, and I brought the car swerving down and into the upscale residential neighborhood, its houses getting more and more expensive as I approached Nathan’s mansion. Turning onto a side street, I came up quickly to the car we had parked to serve as a recording station. Inside, I knew the small receivers were doing their job, but what I needed was the USB drive they were piping the information into.

 

Without a key, I used the butt of the shotgun to smash in one of the windows, ripping the usb drive free and returning to my car.

 

I was hyperventilating as I tossed the small portable hard drive into the passenger’s seat. This was it. But what exactly did it buy me? A chance, sure, but if the Captain was compromised, how high did this go? Was the commissioner involved? The mayor?

 

And even if I found someone to trust, what good would it do if Wallace could still strike at us from behind bars?

 

No. I couldn’t take this to the police. Not when it was possible that this infection ran rampant throughout the entire department.

 

My thoughts flashed back to the white envelope and the press. I could bring it to the Times. I still knew a person or two on the inside. They could keep me safe and break this case wide open. The FBI would be all over it within a few weeks. I could start again with a new name and a new life… WITSEC protection and the whole nine!

 

With Nathan at my side? We could run away together. Surely he had some money stashed offshore.

 

I took a deep breath as I got nearer to my car, trying to soothe my nerves. Everything was going to be okay. A short drive, a few words with a reporter, and we could let the feds sort this whole thing out. I was done.

 

Before I could even get to the door, I could hear it. The police radio was going crazy. Opening the door and leaping inside, I froze in place, my mind decoding the various messages cross-firing over the speakers.

 

Code 999, officer needs help urgently. 10-59, hostage situation exists. Swat team en route. Police surrounding a building on Elm Street. Suspect deemed armed and extremely dangerous… Officer involved shooting…

 

I was gasping for air in the driver’s seat, desperately trying not to pick up the radio. My hand gripped the wheel so hard it was sending pain shooting up my arm. God help me if Nathan was involved. Did the damn fool go and poke his head up? Had he killed someone? What the hell was he doing on Elm?

 

“Oh, Christ…” I said aloud, throwing the car into gear. Captain Pierce’s house was on Elm Street. I’d told him the Captain was after him. Was Nathan trying to settle the score? My mind reeled as I tried to make sense of it, but a moment later, everything clicked into place.

 

Nathan must have left someone to watch the house. He must have known Captain Pierce took me out of there. He must have thought I was as good as dead, and that made him extremely dangerous.

 

Without a second thought, I floored it. Lights on and siren blaring, I flew along side streets, blazing a trail toward Elm. SWAT would be out in force, and if they went into that house and found Nathaniel Hale with Captain Pierce, they wouldn’t be so sympathetic. Despite everything the Captain had done, Elm Street was his home. He had a wife and a kid.

 

First rule of the force: nobody messes with a cop’s family. Crooked or not, it didn’t matter. Nathan would never even have a chance to explain himself before they took his head clean off. If I could get there in time, maybe I could stop it. Speed blurred my vision as the trunk slammed open and closed with every little bump.

 

I’m coming, Nathan. I’m coming.