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“Got it, boss.” He lifts Carlos and throws him over his shoulder.
“In the river?” I pull out a cigarette and light it. Anything to dampen the smell.
He grunts. “It’ll have to be, unless you want me to blow up your warehouse?” He has a spark in his eye. In the year we’ve worked together, I never quite understood this man’s obsession with setting everything on fire.
There’s a lot cleaner ways to deal with a corpse.
I turn on my heel and head to my own silver Porsche parked outside and pull out my phone to dial Enzo.
We need a new plan.
If Zara is on my case, we need to know why.
Grayson, Jax, Kai, and Keller are in the kitchen raiding the drink cabinet. I recline on the couch and scroll through my phone.
For a detective, her social media is wide open.
Picture after picture, her off duty persona is revealed. The delicate ink that spans her right arm. Her green eyes that pierce into my soul, even through a screen.
I stop on the picture that holds my attention. She’s unlike any other woman I’ve been with. She has a dark side, a rebellious side.
In this photo, she’s at a concert, in a leather bra and high-waisted shorts, sticking her tongue out to the camera. Her raven hair frames her face, her lips are red and plump.
Clearly, she lives a different life outside of her day job.
A reckless one, which explains her behavior.
If she wants to be my enemy, I need to know every single thing about her.
I know she has an issue with control.
She hides behind that badge, which is probably why her body is scattered with ink.
My cock throbs as I remember her pulse increasing when my hand tightened around her throat.
She has a temper and will use violence.
But she doesn’t like men ordering her around.
My fingers twitch as I imagine the ways I could control her.
The front door slams shut and I lock my cell.
Enzo appears from the entry hall. “You know you’ve got a car parked across the street? I ran the plates; it's her.”
“Who?” Grayson looks at me with a frown.
“Zara,” I reply flatly.
Grayson leans against the counter and tips back his glass. “The cop?”
“Yes, the detective.” I clench my jaw.
“Why are you being followed by the cops?” Keller asks, taking a sip of beer.
“That’s what we're all here to work out. I think I’ve got myself a little stalking problem.”
“She’s brave,” Jax chuckles before jumping up to sit on the counter.
