Blood of the Pride by Sheryl Nantus

Author:Sheryl Nantus
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Amazon
Published: 2012-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“You shouldn’t drive.” Bran plucked the car keys from my numb fingers. “It’ll be fine.” He stroked my cheek with one finger. “It’ll be fine.”

“No, no it won’t.” I shook my head, looking back toward the folders on the table. “I’m not sure if it’s ever going to be fine again.”

Bran pulled me into a bear hug. “It’ll all be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I chuckled into the shirt, smelling both of our scents on the fabric. “Don’t try to play the tough guy. It doesn’t work for you.”

“Oh, sure. Mock my inherent manliness.” The exaggerated sigh tickled my ear. “At least let me pretend to be your protector.”

I nodded. “Just don’t get in the way if it starts going physical. You have no idea how rough Felis can be.”

Hanover grinned, reaching back and patting his back with one hand. “Oh, I think I have some idea.”

I jerked a thumb toward the door, feeling my face get warm. “Let’s get going before something else happens.”

We made our way to the elevator and down to the parking garage, my heart rate rising with each step. I slid in on the passenger side and wondered about insurance, repairs.

Jazz.

We drove in silence, Bran allowing me to be alone with my thoughts while he maneuvered the Jeep along King Street. We got stuck behind a streetcar that was obviously not the real Red Rocket, the driver spending an inordinate amount of time at each light and stop. Bran glanced over at me and yanked the wheel to one side, racing up a side street and pulling us back onto Queen Street.

We slowed down to a crawl when we turned onto Triller and pulled into a rare parking spot not far from my house. There were two police cars in the narrow street, one of the uniformed officers leaning on his car’s hood and scowling as a prostitute walked by, waving at the man with a wide grin. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that “she” was a “he” who had better legs than most women I knew, including myself. Cosmic injustice.

The plainclothes detective met me at the space previously occupied by my front door, a young pup who stared at me with a bland, textbook-home-invasion-file-report-and-leave look. “Yeah?” He scowled.

I wasn’t in any mood to play with a kid. “I know Attersley’s here. Get him.” I scowled back, knowing mine was much better.

The young man stared at me for a second. He turned and cupped his hands around his mouth before bellowing up my stairs, “Hank? Some woman here to see you!” He returned to his previous position of leaning against the wall while studying his notes.

“Hey.” Attersley let out a sigh as he trotted down the stairs, the standard brown suit stretched to its limits on his oversized frame. “Sorry you had to come home to this.” The balding overweight detective glared at Bran. “You gotta be Hanover.”

“Good to know my rep’s still going ’round the station.” Bran said as he caught up with me.

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