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Jake’s words try to climb into my head, but I ignore them, forcing myself to focus on the here and now.
“As soon as this case is over, I’m taking a long, overdue vacation and turning my phone off for at least a week. We’ll go somewhere they can’t find us,” he says, running his lips over mine.
I entertain the illusion, distancing myself from reality as I stay the Lana Myers he loves, and not the girl he’s chasing.
“I’ll take you up on that, SSA Bennett.”
He grins against my lips, but a loud shout has us breaking apart.
“My son is dead, and you’re making out with your girlfriend after they just cut down his body!” the sheriff shouts, outraged as he charges Logan full speed.
Two deputies charge us as well, but Logan’s fist shoots out, connecting with one face before he lands a hit to the sheriff’s stomach, halting the attack as the dickheaded man doubles over.
My instincts take over before I can refrain, and my hand flies up, slamming into the throat of the third man before his punch can land on me. He coughs and his eyes bug out, and Leonard tackles him to the ground, while Donny wrangles the other one back.
Leonard’s eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I panic. My movements were precise, showing far more experience than Lana Myers should have.
“Nice reflexes,” he says, giving me a tight smile as he cuffs the man on the ground.
Logan spins the sheriff, shoving him into a tree and cuffing his hands behind his back.
“Get your fucking hands off them!” Johnson shouts, charging toward us. “You can’t arrest the sheriff!”
“He attacked a federal agent,” Leonard says. “Just as they did.”
“I didn’t,” the one under him groans.
Leonard makes him cry out in pain as he tightens the cuffs more. “No, you tried to attack a defenseless woman.”
I really don’t like being called that. It’s rather insulting.
I turn
around, walking away before Johnson pisses me off too much. Logan is one hell of a fucking trigger for me, because I want to blow Johnson’s head off even as he and Logan argue, their voices raising.
The war has started, and it’s not too long before Logan is sent away. We’ve guessed their every move. We’ve already hit checkmate, but they still think it’s the middle of the game.
I can’t blow it all by stabbing Johnson right between the eyes in the middle of the park full of badges and witnesses.
So I walk away. I count to ten. Then to two thousand. I jog. I run. I fucking meditate.
But the urge to kill those sons of bitches is still raw and raging inside me. I’m fighting to hold back my urges until the endgame. Right now it feels almost impossible.
For once, I’m worried about my sanity.
So I call the only person who cares enough to help talk me down.
“Talk me down,” I say to Jake, my heart thumping heavily. “Talk me down now.”
“Ducks have corkscrew penises,” he says as my footsteps pause. “Come on over. I’ll show you some pictures. Nasty little fuckers.”
I roll my eyes, finding myself smiling for no reason at all. “Do I want to know why you know about this?”
“I have a vast amount of useless, sometimes disturbing knowledge for purposes such as this. The more random, the better to throw you off your game with, my dear.”
“I don’t want to see corkscrew penises.”
“Then I’ll pull up a blue waffle for you. Come over. Now. Before you do something stupid.”
