Page 104 of How To Catch A Killer … And Date His Best Friend

“No chance in hell,” he murmurs, his gaze shifting to me and Hunter with curiosity before dropping back to Lyra. “They love you?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“They’d never hurt you?”

“No, but if they tried, I’m more than capable of putting them in a shallow grave.”

“Okay,” he finally says with a nod, appearing content with her answers. “That’s all I need to know.”

The sirens get louder, the red and blue lights starting to reflect off buildings around the corner. Lyra cringes and glances up toward Marcus and Dean. “You guys should take off. I don’t want you copping any heat for this.”

Marcus lets out a rough laugh and shakes his head. “Heat’s coming our way whether we were here or not. That’s just how it is when you live like we do.” He jerks his chin toward the approaching siren. “As for you, darlin’, you should already be gone. We’re the security here. My gun is legal, and all this shit was self-defense. As far as I’m concerned, these dead motherfuckers brought the rifles and just didn’t know how to fucking use them.”

Dean nods, his arm locked around Danielle’s waist. “You went home hours ago. We’ll keep the cops off your scent. If those cameras were on, I’d suggest you handle that footage.”

Something softens in Lyra’s expression. For all her attitude, all her threats, all the walls she keeps around herself, these men have always looked out for her, protected her, and had her back, even in the face of the DeLuca family.

A smile tugs at her lips. A real one that touches her eyes, the kind she rarely lets anyone see. “Thank you.”

Marcus nods and then points down the road. “Go, Lyra.”

For a moment, nobody moves, and I glance around.

The street is littered with the aftermath of a war that lasted only minutes. Smoke hangs thick in the air, blood is spilled across the wet pavement, along with scattered bullets and shattered glass. It’s a mess, but it’s a mess we survived.

The sirens scream closer as Lyra nods and twists the throttle.

My bike roars to life, and I wrap an arm around her waist as she launches us forward, the city lights blurring into streaks around us while the night rushes past. Behind us, Marcus and Dean grow smaller in the mirrors, already moving to intercept the approaching police.

A second later, another engine erupts to life. Deep and powerful.

Hunter’s Challenger.

I glance back just in time to see Hunter tear out onto the street, headlights cutting through the darkness, and Lyra pulls back on the throttle, waiting as he falls in behind us before slicing through the night once again, the three of us moving as one.

LYRA

3 MONTHS LATER

Okay, so letting myself get kidnapped on purpose probably wasn’t my brightest idea, but how else am I supposed to keep these boys on their toes? Playing the hero role is their exact type of foreplay, but I have to admit, playing the role of damsel isn’t usually my preferred cup of tea. One thing is for sure, though: I seriously underestimated just how boring it was going to be. And dirty for that matter.

I’ve been sitting in this basement for well over an hour, and I have had just about enough.

Where are these boys? They should have been here, kicking my captors’ asses ages ago.

Sure, we’ve all been lying low since the cartel attack outside Black Velvet a few weeks ago, but this is just ridiculous. The cops ruled it cartel business, a drug deal gone wrong that somehow ended up outside my bar. Marcus and Dean were let off with a warning after insisting they were just doing their job and acting in self-defense, which was confirmed by the girls inside the bar who were closing up at the time.

As for me and the boys, our names were never mentioned, apart from when Marcus and Dean explained that I had already clocked out for the night and gone home. The city-wide curfew was scrapped after that. They held the DeLuca family responsible for all the murders, and just like that, life went right back to normal, and it’s never been better.

Except for right now. Though to be fair, I have no one to blame except for myself. I don’t know what I was thinking when I let myself get into this situation. Maybe I should give the boys a little warning before I do something like this again next time, but when the opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t resist. Besides, it’s not as though I couldn’t get myself out of here with nothing more than my wit, but I want to give the boys a chance to have their precious little egos stroked. And maybe something else if they’re lucky.

Hunter would likely just roll his eyes at this whole situation, but Maddox . . . shit. He’ll be coming in his pants. This is like Christmas morning to him, and because of that, I have to see this through.

If only this chair wasn’t so uncomfortable.

The rope tying me down is mediocre at best, and more than scratchy against my wrists. Not to mention, the three men standing guard outside the door have done nothing but discuss sports for the past hour with the intellectual depth of soggy cardboard.

It’s wonderful. If they don’t shoot me soon, I might have to do it myself just to escape their conversation. Don’t get me wrong, they break it up every now and then and come in to hit me with the usual threats and smack me around a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle, and it’s nothing they won’t die for either.