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She is.
Holy shit, but she’s got me wrapped around her finger, and the handjob in the car proved it. I keep my gaze ahead, the front of my jacket zipped close to hide the stain in my pants and my aim on the prize—getting closer to solving my case and taking down the Black Market Syndicate.
You know, the tiny matter of clearing the city of the biggest pile of filth we’ve got.
I hadn’t realized just how desperately I wanted the Syndicate gone until now, and it’s a tangible taste in my mouth.
“This way.” I guide Aria toward the interrogation rooms on the second floor, where most of the private offices are located. The majority of the space on the first floor of the converted space is taken up by a gym and workout space for officers to spar together. “We’ll get you processed and then begin our chat.”
“Whatever you say.Detective.”
Her belligerence gets under my skin as well.
Alone in the elevator, I make sure to keep my distance from her but not far enough to have her bolt the second the doors open.
Much to my surprise, Naomi and Captain Ashcroft stand on the other side of the doors once they slide open. One of them is glaring, and the other looks close to tears.
“You don’t answer your phone?” Naomi blurts out. She does her best to stop talking before she gets going, and yet even with her teeth gnashing down on her lip, the words spill out. “Christ, Dev, I thought something happened to you. You told me you’d be back soon, and it’s been like three hours.”
Her gaze flicks between me and Aria before recognition styles on her features, and she frowns.
I straighten, squaring my shoulders, unwilling to explain myself. “I’m taking in Miss…Aria for booking.”
“Darklyn,” she supplies cheerfully. “Not that he asked me for my surname. He came barging in with his handcuffs dangling and told me he’s bringing me in. I haven’t even been read my rights.”
Ah, fuck. She’s correct.
“Am I really under arrest?” Aria continues.
Ashcroft’s face doesn’t change. “Get her settled in a room, and then I want you to come to my office. It’s not a request.”
At least he’s not snapping his fingers this time. Usually, when Cap wants something, he becomes the ringmaster, and we dance to the merry clap of his index finger and thumb together. This isn’t a summons I ignore.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Naomi hisses out before I sidestep her and the captain, taking Aria toward an empty room.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her without breaking my stride.
This time, I’m the one flashing her a grin instead of a glare.
That used to be Layla’s job. She was always the one with a comment prepared to fire off. I just had to smooth things over whenever she crossed a line. I’d gotten damn used to the dynamic, too.
“Don’t be long, Tough Guy,” Aria says once she’s inside the room and situated in one of the wildly uncomfortable metal chairs. “I’m not a patient lady. I’ll be angry if you keep me waiting.”
The glare goes to her instead of Naomi. “I won’t,” I reply.
In a matter of minutes, I’m in Ashcroft’s office with him standing in the entry, the door closed behind him. This isn’t the merry face of the potato sack race champion, where he always seems to beat everyone out at the interdepartmental summer picnic games.
This is a man who has been pushed too far.
“Your little disappearing act ends today,” he tells me without preface. “Do you understand, Bishop? Not to mention the way you dragged a woman in without reading her rights. You’re out of your goddamn gourd, and I won’t tolerate it.”
A million things I want to say tumble together in my face. All that comes out is a muttered, “Yes, Cap.” I slide my hand into my pockets, showing nothing but ease on the outside. My shoulder is cocked and ready in case Ashcroft decides to land the verbal tirade he’s been promising me for the past year.
“You’re trying to tell me you left your partner at the station to go off on a wild goose hunt, and you brought back a woman. For what? On what charge?” Ashcroft begins.
Oh yeah, he’s sick of my shit.
The lines around his eyes are deeper with the passing years, his hair a little thinner, and his patience nonexistent. He won’t let anyone see how tired he is, but he’s gotten much better at letting us know when we’ve disappointed him.
