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Garrison had stashed them around the house, showing me where he’d placed each one of them. Including an extra gun in the bedroom in case I ever needed it. Rounding the bed, I opened the drawer of my nightstand and grabbed the Glock he had put in there for me. The 22 model was slightly heavier than the 45 my dad used and held different ammunition, but it hadn’t taken me long to get used to the difference. Much to Garrison’s surprise. And pleasure since seeing me handle a gun had led to some amazing sex…as pretty much everything between us did.
But I couldn’t let myself get distracted by those excellent memories. I needed to focus on finding Garrison. After taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I padded over to the door, my gun gripped tightly in my right hand. When I tried the knob, the lock made a clicking sound, and I muttered, “Crap.”
I hadn’t considered the possibility that Garrison would’ve locked me in, and I probably should have. He’d do whatever it took to keep me safe, including facing off with the bad guys while I was out of harm’s way with a locked door—and his brawny body—between me and trouble.
I knew that if I left the safety of the room, I would probably end up with a reddened butt for putting myself at risk, but I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to Garrison while I sat here twiddling my thumbs. If I was going to be his old lady—and he’d better be planning on giving me a property patch to make it official or else he might regret letting me have a gun—then I needed to have his back.
I slowly turned the knob and inched the door open, being as quiet as possible. But Garrison proved how attuned to me when he softly hissed from the top of the stairs, “Stay put, baby. There’s another guy on the first floor.”
The guy he was holding at gunpoint took a deep breath as though he was going to yell a warning to his partner, and Garrison lowered his gun to aim right at the man’s crotch. “Put your weapon on the floor near my feet. One word or false move, and you can say goodbye to your cock forever. ”
There was only the barest hint of light from the moon through the windows, but when he leaned forward to drop his gun, I recognized the intruder he’d caught. “I know him.”
Garrison kept his gaze right where it was as he asked, “He’s a cop?”
“Yeah, his name is Jack. My dad hired him six years ago. He’s partnered with a guy who’s been around since I was a little kid. Mick McCutcheon. I remember laughing about it because their names sounded funny together to me when I was twelve.”
Garrison kicked Jack’s gun toward me. I picked the weapon up and gripped it in my left hand as he asked, “Is Mick the one downstairs? Nod yes or no.”
We were keeping our voices low, but he smartly didn’t trust Jack to do the same, even with the gun still pointed at his groin. His head went up and down in the affirmative, and Garrison gestured with his left hand for Jack to move up the stairs. “You got a backup piece on your ankle?”
Jack shook his head, but it wasn’t enough for Garrison. “Lift the bottom of your pant leg, both sides.”
I heaved a sigh of relief when there wasn’t another gun on him, feeling as though we were one step closer to taking these guys down.
“Anyone else with you?”
Jack’s head went side to side this time.
“Are you two the top of the food chain on the trafficking operation?”
When Jack hesitated to answer, Garrison fisted the front of his shirt and hauled him up the top step. Then he shoved him against the wall, repositioned his gun so it was pointed at Jack’s crotch again—which made sense since it had proven to be an effective threat—and growled, “My girl’s life is at stake here. I will not hesitate to torture the fuck out of you to get the information I need, to the point where you’ll wish that all I did was shoot your dick off.”
Jack shook his head.
“You’re their moles in the department? Take their cash to look the other way and provide intel?”
A nod confirmed the two dirty cops were protecting the lowest of the low because of greed.
“Anyone else on the take?”
A frantic shake of his head.
“Anyone other than those two pissant high school students know Alyssa’s name?”
I almost slumped over in relief when he shook his head again and whispered, “No, if we’d told anyone about her, we would’ve ended up dead, too.”
Garrison looked over his shoulder at me. When his gaze scanned down my body, a little of the tension drained from his shoulders. I wasn’t sure if it was because he visually confirmed I was in one piece or that I was dressed. “Grab my cell and send a 911 text to the group chat at the top of my messages.”
