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“Yeah, well, when there’s no proof of wrongdoing, I’d like to know how he plans to do that.”
“Just be careful when it comes to Houston. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”
He looks away, scanning the large open area. Only two other detectives are seated at their desks, eyes on their computers and both wearing headphones. No one is paying us a lick of attention. He almost seems paranoid.
“Why the warning, Mark? I honestly don’t give a damn what Houston says. I’m going to do my job the same as I always do.”
“I have no doubt you will. My point is if that case goes south or doesn’t pan out, he’s likely to blame it on you. Wouldn’t be the first time.” A dry laugh escapes his lips. “Or even the second or third. It’s his MO. Just watch your back. It’s not always the criminals you have to be mindful around.”
“Okay. I’ll be more careful. Thanks, Mark.”
“Anytime.”
He walks off while I bring the mug of coffee to my lips, pondering his words.It’s not always the criminals you have to be mindful around.Tipping the mug back, nothing comes out.
It’s early afternoon, but today is slow and I need all the caffeine I can get. Getting up, I head to the break room. I could drink coffee all day long. I love the stuff.
The break room is also the kitchenette and when I enter the small room it’s empty, so I get right to it, placing a K-cup in the machine and then putting my coffee mug underneath followed by pressing the button.
Just as the machine is about to brew my steamy goodness, I hear rapid footsteps, alerting me someone has entered the break room, but before I can glance behind me, I’m grabbed forcefully by my right elbow and swung around, my back crushing into the stainless-steel refrigerator behind me, sending a sharp pain up my spine.
“Ow. Son of a...” I glance down at the firm hand wrapped around my arm, then I look up, glaring at the motherfucker in the process. “What the fuck, Lance? Get your han—”
“Shut your little mouth,” he spits in my face. Anger radiates from him and mine is about to match it. “Listen, bitch, and listen well.” He inches closer to my face, lowering to look me in the eyes. “That cock-sucking trap of yours better fucking watch what comes out of it, or you won’t like what’s shoved in it.”
“Take your goddamn hands off me, now,” I force out, hitting him with the same animosity he did me only seconds ago.
He releases the grip he has on me but steps closer, making my back press against the refrigerator.
“You need to be more worried about doing your job than spewing worthless shit to the chief. You hear me?”
“My job?” I raise my hands between us, pushing on his chest, gaining a few inches of space.
“Find something on Acerbi. Put down your little fucking coffee, stop pissing around, and get the evidence I need to put that motherfucker away. Got it?”
Don’t do it, Bri. Don’t show him any of your cards.
Fuck it.
“Sounds to me like you’re walking on the dirty side of that thin blue line, Houston.” I raise my eyebrow in every ounce of defiance I can muster. “You a card-carrying member of the Dirty Blue?” I don’t give him time to answer—not that he would. “Sure sounds like it to me.”
His palm flies up, connecting with my chest and shoving me backward. Luckily for me, I have nowhere to go except two to three inches of space until my back rocks the refrigerator from the force.
“Be real careful what you say, Andrews. I don’t give a fuck what you think or what you think you know, but it better stay inside that pretty little mouth of yours or...”
He steps back, a slow smirk forming on his face as he leaves his threat hanging.
“Or what?” I cross my arms.
He only laughs as he turns away from me.
When he’s out of sight, I rub my chest. It hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the fire burning in my gut.
Maybe it’s not Drago my time needs to be spent investigating. Maybe it’s Detective Lance Houston.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
