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“Dominic.”
“I’m not saying this as your boyfriend, but as your partner in crime—literally. You don’t have the luxury of putting yourself in the line of fire for me. You have hundreds who depend on you.” He wrapped his hand around my throat, a warning to pay attention. Even angry, even horrified, he stroked his thumb softly against my pulse. Gentle. “You’d survive my loss, but the city wouldn’t survive yours.”
I didn’t agree, but we seriously didn’t have the time. Anticipation and adrenaline were racing through my veins, and I could feel the tension getting higher in the air. “I need you to let me go.”
We were sitting ducks the longer he decided to make a point. “Tell me that you agree.”
Yeah, not going to happen.
I tried to push forward, but he shoved me back. “This isn’t a conversation, Mari. As your underboss, I am telling you, you do not get between me and a bullet again. You asked me to respect your job, I’m asking for the same courtesy. Let me do mine. Let me protect you.”
Well, fuck.
Dominic managed to trap me between a rock and hypocrisy. Asshole.
“Fine,” I growled. “You win.”
“It’s not about winning, mariposa. It’s about keeping you safe for all the good you do for the city. We’re on the same side.”
The frustration was still there, but the defensiveness the conversation created eased out of me. “Okay. But Dom?—”
He immediately let go of me. “I know. Never correct you like that in public. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
It felt wrong that he understood so fast, like part of me was still expecting him to argue. But he hadn’t argued because he didn’t want me to be me; he argued because he had to. Because whether I hated it or not, he was right. His job was to stand between me and danger, and mine was to let him.
Greyson caught my eye and motioned across the street.
“They’ve got him,” I whispered, refocusing on the task at hand. “Let’s go around and see if we can jump him without a shootout.”
Dominic and I circled the car on quiet feet, knowing Grey would understand the plan immediately. The street was a dead end, but with trash cans and bushes around, we had enough cover to get us almost on top of the guy. I couldn’t see more than a lanky shadow and the glint of that fucking gun.
Dominic held up his fingers, counting down.
Three.
Two.
One.
Go.
We lunged at the same time that Greyson and Nate stood from their positions. The distraction startled the Ace, who lifted his gun to shoot them. Except we were there first.
Dominic wrapped his arms around the Ace’s leg, taking him to the ground. I jumped for his arms, trying to pry the gun out of his hand. He let himself fall flat, groaning as his head hit the pavement, but the move kept his arms free. He swung wildly, hitting me in the cheek when one of them slipped from my grip.
It’d been a while since I’d been hit in the face, and it was always a bit of a shock. Still, I didn’t let up, sitting on his other arm so I could grab the one that was flailing the gun around. “Will you hold still, you fucking idiot?”
“Bite me, bitch.”
That’s it. I reared back and gave him a swift punch to the head, knocking him out.
“Feel better, mariposa?”
I really did. By the time the guy was trussed up like a holiday turkey, I was sweating buckets, but it was done. We had an Ace.
Now we just had to see if he’d talk.
The boys hung him in the cold room, a giant meat locker in the basement of the mansion. Nate was unanimously voted out of interrogation duty and relegated to grumbling in the corner about overprotective families.
