Here’s a nibble of what Vira and the gang are up to in Chatper 15. Hope you enjoy.
The sun’s rays weren’t vestiges of light yet, but the summer temperature had dropped signaling night’s slow approach. In front of his building, Rally executed a violent yet deft parking maneuver that slammed us into the curb. My side bounced off the cement hard enough that I felt I-teeth rattle. When he threw it into park, I sprung out of the car before his seatbelt was off. “Your license needs to be revoked,” I mumbled over my shoulder.
“Is that an official request?” Shepard sat on the cement steps with a piece of paper rolled tightly in his hand. “Because I could look into it for you. Since, you know, I’m so busy not solving cases.” His arm raised and the piece of paper waved back and forth. “Of course, today was sort of busy what with me staking out your friends place and all.”
A car door slammed and seconds later Rally joined me in front of Shepard. The haughty expression on his friends face must’ve unnerved him. “What’s going on?” He asked roughly.
Shepard shot to his feet and shoved the paper at Rally’s chest. “My thoughts exactly.” Rally stepped back angling closer to me as he unrolled the sheet. I watched with growing dread as a picture of two men came into view. My eyes cut away, but not in time. I had already seen them. Standing together. Talking. In broad daylight.
“Who’re these guys?” My Guard demanded. Friends or not, cop theatrics didn’t go over well with anyone.
Shepard adjusted his attitude before answering but only a fraction. “The big one is Vira’s work buddy, Lentle Maste. The one with the cleft chin is who I’m here about. Do you know him, Vira?”
Anger guided my reaction. In a blink, I tore the picture from Rally, crumpled it then stepped to Shepard with an irrational sense of composure. To his credit, he didn’t flinch or maneuver out of reach. I moved against him, pressing the entire front half of my body against his.
“You know I do.” It was a whisper. Venomous. Breathy. My mouth was so close to his jaw that I could taste stubble. Shepard’s eyes flared with desire that intensified when I slipped the picture into his front pocket. The deposit was slow. My fingers pushed the rumpled mass further and further down. His chest stopped moving when I rubbed the back of my fingers across his inner thigh.
I couldn’t resist a smug half grin as I pulled my hand out. Shock and Awe was Shepard’s game of choice, but he’d made a serious mistake in thinking I wouldn’t throw that shit right back in his stupid cop face.