Page 17 of Lay Down the Law

Her nerves jumped at the anger in his voice. What in the world did he have to be mad about? She’d just bagged two armed suspects for him, and probably saved his neck to boot.

“In a minute, Chief.” She’d intended for her voice to come out stronger, but it shook like plucked guitar wire.

“Now, McNeal.”

Sighing, she stopped but didn’t turn around. Just a few more seconds and she’d be steadier. She drew a deep breath, willing her hands to stop shaking. Behind her, she heard Nick approach. Her nerves wound tighter. Lord, why couldn’t he give her a moment to pull herself together?

Slowly, she turned, realizing how it must feel to face a firing squad. “I can see from the look on your face you’re not going to thank me,” she said.

His eyes raked her like sharp instruments as he drew nearer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

He stopped less than a foot away—so close she could feel the heat of his anger mingling with the heady aroma of male sweat and aftershave. By the looks of him, she was in for a major butt-chewing.

“Good,” he snapped. “Because you’ve got two minutes to explain to me what the hell you were trying to pull.”

* * *

Nick wasn’t sure if he wanted to throttle her on the spot or embrace her for bringing down two suspects twice her size single-handedly—even if she had done it by the skin of her teeth. He wasn’t sure of a whole hell of a lot at the moment because his own adrenaline had yet to ebb. The only thing he knew for certain was that she looked shaken and vulnerable and tough all at once, and he wasn’t sure which facet ticked him off the most. To top things off she looked way too good in that blue uniform with her flushed cheeks and red-brown hair tumbling over her shoulders like strands of tangled silk.

“I told you to stay in the truck, not to take down two armed suspects like some kind of female Rambo,” he said.

“I wasn’t going to let two thugs get away in the name of decorum. I’m sorry if that ticks you off, Chief, but I don’t operate that way.”

“You’re a probationary officer, McNeal. You haven’t even filled out your forms and already you’re jumping on suspects.”

“I backed you up.”

“You disobeyed a direct order.”

“I used my best judgment,” she retorted. “Where in the hell were you?”

“The guy in the rear kept me a little too busy to baby-sit you.”

Anger flared in her eyes. “I’m a trained police officer.”

“You’re a loose cannon.”

Her wince was almost imperceptible, but Nick saw it and knew he’d hit a nerve. His temper wouldn’t let him back off. “I won’t have you taking risks and endangering yourself and everyone else because you have something to prove.”

“Maybe you’d rather Steph lost her other parent in there!”

The words struck him dead center. Nick felt himself recoil. Emotionally. Physically. He tried to squelch the reaction. He didn’t want her to know she’d struck a geyser of guilt than ran a mile deep in his heart. He didn’t want her to know he felt the depth of that guilt every time he looked at his daughter and saw that wheelchair.

“Don’t push me, McNeal,” he warned. “You’ll lose.”

She blinked, as if her own words had shocked her. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for—”

“Frank warned me about that killer instinct of yours.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Sure you did. Don’t lessen the impact by trying to take it back now. Go for the jugular. That’s your style, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have a clue what my style is.”

He tried to curb the anger building in his chest, but it had already gotten away from him. He knew he was overreacting, but this woman had a way of pushing all the wrong buttons. “You like stepping a little too close to the edge, don’t you, McNeal?”