Page 6 of Disavowed

Cha-ching. He had to prod Schneider subtly, although his inclination was to ram a cattle prod up his ass.

“Just what kind of help are you offering?” His gaze traveled down Schneider’s expensive silk shirt and tailored trousers, pretending he was only now noticing the fancy duds. “Looks to me whatever you’re into now pays well.”

“True enough.” Schneider nodded. “Since I left the army, I’ve had some interesting opportunities come my way. If you’re willing to play ball, maybe some of these opportunities will head your way as well. I owe you, after all.”

For effect, he narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean exactly?”

Schneider shot a look behind him in the direction of an exit door that led to the back alley. “Let me go and I’ll make sure there’s something in it for you. A little spending cash. Maybe even a new job. Sounds like you’re on the verge of needing one. But you gotta lay off the hooch.”

Touchdown.

“I don’t like surprises.” He raised an eyebrow. “What does this job entail?”

Schneider shook his head. “Not here. I need to introduce you to someone first. I don’t call the shots.”

Dom let out a heavy, impatient breath, as if he wasn’t going to take the deal. He couldn’t make this too easy or those Schneider worked for wouldn’t buy into a highly decorated NYPD detective going bad. “You know I can’t just let you go without something more.” Again, he glanced at the guns on the table. “And there’s no way in hell I can let you walk out of here with those weapons.”

Schneider made a dismissive sound. “Those are nothing, just a small sample sent by some friends abroad.”

A small sample?

Looked like enough deadly hardware to take out a platoon.

“Meet me next Tuesday night, 1173 Bedford Avenue, Brooklyn. Third floor. Six o’clock.” Schneider snapped his gaze to the left as low voices echoed down the aisle. “I’ll explain more then.”

He pointed a finger at Schneider. “If you’re fucking with me, I’ll find you. You know that.”

“I do.” Schneider nodded.

Dom was known in Delta for his uncanny ability to track anything. He was the one who’d found Schneider passed out cold in his little love shack, naked, high off his ass, and surrounded by prostitutes.

He pressed his lips together, then pushed from the crate and turned on the radio clipped to his belt. “I got one. I’ll bring him out the front.”

“Ten-four,” Gray came back. It was the signal he and Gray had prearranged to notify that the quarry had taken the bait.

“Carew, you motherfucker.” Schneider glared at him, clenching his fists. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”

“Relax.” He held out both hands, palms downward in a calming gesture. “Every door to this warehouse is covered on the outside by uniforms. The door behind you only has one guy on it. But it has to look good, so hit me.”

Schneider’s dark brows bunched.

“Do it,” he commanded in a harsh tone.

Without hesitation, Schneider closed the distance between them and cold-cocked Dom in the face.

He staggered backward. Pain radiated through his skull. He reached out to grab onto the crate behind him so he didn’t fall on his ass.

Damn, that guy packs one hell of a punch.

He shook his head to clear it of the stars and white flashes clouding his vision. It occurred to him that he’d have a bruised jaw for Gray and Alex’s wedding photos.

When he was certain he wouldn’t black out, he tipped his head to the rear door of the warehouse. “You run. I chase. You get away.”

“What about the uniform?” Schneider asked over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

“I’ll take care of him.” He followed, glancing down the aisle to make sure none of the other officers were within earshot.

Schneider turned and stuck out his hand, which Dom clasped briefly.