Page 2 of One Mistake

I chuckled. “Friendship.” One that had lasted through years of separation. Of course, going through something like the Glouster Video Scandal together bonded us. “Plus, I’m adorable.” She laughed, so I continued. “And you missed me.”

“That I did. Of course, I had no idea you’d gone batshit crazy enough to kidnap Ryder.” I almost fell out of the car when she glanced away from the road to me. But the door wasn’t open. “What are you going to do with him?”

“I don’t know yet.” But I was going to think of something.

* * *

The car rolled to a stop and the motor shut down. Thank God, too, because the exhaust fumes made my stomach toss and roll. And I was about ten seconds from spewing my Philly cheesesteak all over my t-shirt.

The voices were back. Do you have your taser?

There was a laugh. A tinkle of a drunken giggle. Familiar. Tequila shooter girl? I have this.

Holy shit, Reese. That’s a gun.

Of course, it’s a gun. I’m a cop. It came with the uniform.

Reese the cop. Not when I got through with her.

You’re insane and we’re all going to prison. I’m too pretty for prison. They’ll pass me around like candy.

Real panic. Good. But not a voice I recognized.

No one’s going to prison. Probably.

Oh, fuck.

Just help me get him out of here. Then you guys can go. No one has to know you’re involved.

Wrong. So, so wrong.

* * *

Avery reached to open the trunk and Felicity stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.” She looked around Mom’s backyard and finally reached to pick up a hand spade Mom had probably used to plant the neat rows of flowers Avery’d driven over on her way to the back patio.

“Digging this, huh?” Avery and I looked at Felicity. Someone had to tell her that her puns weren’t so funny anymore, but now probably wasn’t the time since I needed her help. Plus, I was drunk enough that I laughed at her joke.

“Open it.” I aimed my Glock at the back of the car. The safety was on. He wasn’t in danger, but he didn’t need to know it.

She popped the hatch, and he groaned. A shiver of a memory ran through me and settled in my panties. The sound of heaven. Shit.

“Focus, Reese.” Avery shoved me.

“Get out,” I whispered the words because I was still caught in a memory so potent I might have been near orgasm on the lawn. I could only see the back of his head, the long line of his neck, and the wide breadth of his shoulders. All familiar. Too familiar. And not something I should have been concentrating on. Definitely shouldn’t have been wondering if he tasted the same, if he still moaned low and deep when…shit.

He used his upper body to pull himself up and twist around so he could unfold himself to stand in front of us. “Wait.” He was too big, too unpredictable to not restrain. I shoved my hand into my shoulder bag and rooted blind until my fingers scraped against the metal cuffs. I handed them to Avery. “Put these on him. Behind his back.”

“No. You’re out of your mind.” Avery held up both hands and took a step back. “I’m not going to Shawshank for you. I saw that movie. It’s a bad place.” Her eyes went wide, and she bit her lower lip. Lord, she watched too much TV. It was her escape from grading poorly written term papers. Plus, she had a mad crush on Morgan Freeman.

“That’s a fictional prison created by Stephen King for fictional purposes.” I rolled my eyes and rattled the cuffs at her again. “Come on. I can’t hold the gun and cuff him.”

“There’s really a Shawshank Prison in Ohio.” Felicity, our little trivia buff. But she shoved the hand spade under her arm and snatched the cuffs out of my hand. “God, Avery. We’re already in this deep. You drove the getaway car.”

“Don’t listen to your little friend. If you let me go now, you haven’t done anything wrong. Not that I’ll report anyway.” Sharper, meaningful, he added, “Avery Shaw. Felicity Makenzie. Reese Winthrop.”

And I might’ve been drunk, but I was sober enough to know this was bad.

* * *