Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(77)

“Bitch.”

Erin clucked her tongue. “So unoriginal.” She edged toward Sera and pressed their backs together, ignoring the sharp pain that zinged down her limbs. “Here’s how this is going to work since we have two guns, you have one…and Chicago PD is already on the way.”

“Also, my husband and her boyfriend are coming,” Sera chimed in with a steady voice. “And they’re mean as hell.”

“Almost as mean as we are.” Erin was just starting to enjoy herself when an angry voice distracted her. It was coming from her pocket. Keeping the gun trained on Stark, she drew out the device. “Sorry, boys. I have to take this.” She put the phone up to her ear. “Hey, baby.”

She felt Connor’s rushed exhale down to her toes. “We’re on the way. Please just tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” God, it felt great to have someone concerned for her. Fucking great. “Tell Bowen his wife is a badass, too.”

Sirens split the air and Stark’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Reflected in the stainless steel refrigerator, she saw May drop the gun and run for it.

Erin grabbed Sera’s arm when she started to give chase. No. Too big of a risk. There could be more weapons stashed around the house. “Let him go. He doesn’t have a bolt cutter or a convenient power outage this time.” She let go of Sera’s arm, reached into her pocket and removed the remote control for the gate. “There’s only one exit and our boys will be there to meet him.”

The sirens were right outside the gate now. Sending Stark a wink, she pressed the button to let them in. “Honey, we’re home.”





Chapter Twenty-Four


Connor watched Erin lick salt from her wrist, followed by her plump lips closing around a lime for a long, hard suck. Jesus H. Christ. A bar was the last place he wanted to be tonight. He didn’t mind the licking and sucking, but he wanted it done at home. Privately. His girlfriend, however, had kind of saved the day and she deserved to celebrate. That didn’t make him want to drag her home and reassure himself of her well-being any less. He wanted to praise her in his own way and it didn’t include Austin, Polly, and Derek, who shared the booth with them in the Brass Monkey, a bar two blocks from the police station. Bowen had scooped up his wife and vanished as soon as she and Erin had given their statements. He’d wanted to do the same with his girl, but he hadn’t been able. This was another new experience for her. Having a drink with friends, listening to music during happy hour, bullshitting. He would never take that away from her.

He’d even invited his mother to celebrate with them, although she hadn’t known if she could make it on short notice. It took his mom a good three hours to get ready for the supermarket, let alone a night out.

The restraining order against Erin’s stepfather had been filed this afternoon thanks to Derek’s pulling a couple strings. Hopefully it had already been delivered to Luther O’Dea’s door. It would have to be enough for tonight, knowing the man knew Erin wasn’t vulnerable anymore. That she had people who cared about her. That she wasn’t going to stand for his terrorizing behavior anymore.

Erin tilted her head back and met his eyes, her expression one of exhilaration. Damn, her beauty hit him square in the chest and he couldn’t even draw a breath. Every time she looked at him, he remembered dying a thousand deaths at hearing the word “gun” come over the loudspeaker that afternoon. They’d still been en route to the house, and his universe had flickered, then darkened at the possibility that he might never see her alive again. Her voice had been the only thing that kept him sane. She’d been so confident, so sure of herself. Enough for the both of them. It hadn’t stopped him from falling at her feet the minute he entered the house and saw her. True to form, she’d gone down on her knees, too, and met him halfway.

“You should have seen this poor f*cker’s face when you kissed our Sera.” Austin waved a lime in his direction. “Priceless, it was. He didn’t know whether to be turned on or pissed off.”

“We know which one you were,” Polly commented. “You were like that horny cartoon wolf, eyes all bugged out. Awooooga.”

“Ah, now.” Austin tilted his head at Polly. “Don’t be jealous, love. You know I’d be your love slave if you’d only let me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can barely contain my feminine arousal.”

“Maybe I have it backward.” Austin chewed his red cocktail straw a moment before leaning in closer to Polly. “Maybe you prefer to be the love slave, hey?”

Polly flushed. “If you can switch it up so easily, I’m not interested. Other girls might not realize you only know how to play roles. But I do.”

Austin’s expression turned hard. “Are you calling me inauthentic?”

Thankfully, Derek chose that moment to return with a round of beers. After an afternoon with those two, Connor had enough bickering to last himself a year. Another reason he wanted to get out of this godforsaken dive and take Erin home to bed. The captain seemed to have the same idea, because he’d only dropped four beers off at the table.

“Heading out?” Connor asked.

“Yeah. My wife saved me a piece of chicken potpie for dinner. It’s the worst.” Funny, he didn’t look displeased by that at all. He looked like he couldn’t wait to get home and eat it. “Take a couple of days off. I’ll let everyone know when the next meet will be.”