Page 28 of A New Days Don

I still can’t burn the image of his hand on her back as they walked out from my mind. The only other camera in the parking lot was blurry, and I could barely make out a shape, but I saw her raven hair. It was all I needed to know they were off together on some assignment.

The assignment? I still have no clue, but whatever it is, it has her walking the streets alone at ten at night, approaching people who don’t want anything to do with her. Where the hell is that fucker that went with her?

I flex my hands on the steering wheel, glaring at the green dot before looking back up to see her walking up to a group of prostitutes. None of them gives her the time of day. Not that I would expect them to, they know what happens to people on the streets who snitch.

One of the more daring women approaches my car, her thin hips moving seductively before knocking on my tinted windows. I snarl at her even though she can’t see or hear me and get out of my car, the door slamming with my frustration. The lithe female’s eyes widen as her instincts feel the threat approaching the sidewalk. She scurries away, back to the corner where she was working with a small group of other girls.

I don’t pay attention to her, though. My focus is solely on Mila as she walks up to a dealer wearing clothes five sizes too big, with pockets bulging with every street drug you can think of. I have kicked him out of my club on more than one occasion. He sneers at her, his dark eyes promising nothing but nefarious intent.

“Sure, I’ll talk.” He rasps. Like fuck you will.

His eyes trail down Mila. I can see her body straighten, as if this is what she has been hoping for since she arrived down here. My chest swells in a way that makes me rub at it uncomfortably and want to rip this motherfucker’s throat out. The slimy look in his eye and the way he vilely grins at her tell me all I need to know about him. He deserves the death sentence he brought upon himself for daring to lie and take from my beautiful, doe-eyed woman.

“Great, I was hoping–”

“Not here,” the dealer shifts, and so do I, inching closer to Mila, and when she backs up, her warm body presses against mine.

Mila yelps, but before she can run, I hold her steady against me, “Not anywhere else.”

My low growl is full of lethal promise. Mila shivers against me but doesn’t push away. The dealer stiffens, recognition flitting across his features, “I thought you were out of town?”

“Not anymore. Answer her questions or fuck off.” I snap.

“I didn’t know you were in bed with the twelves.” He growls, his body shifting as he takes up a looser stance, his fists clenching at his sides. I push Mila behind me. I don’t get into street fights. I don’t walk the streets, but I will be damned if I let Mila get between me and an idiot looking to take out his drug-induced rage.

I have enough time to roll my eyes and scoff at the lethargic fist of the dealer that slowly shoots out toward me. His fist connects with my palm weakly. The laugh that rumbles through my chest makes his eyes widen with fear as I close my hand and crush his fist in a tight grip. The dealer hisses, but I barely hear it over my angry pulse.

I pull him in, wrapping my hand around his neck and slam him against the metal door of the building behind him. Before I can level him for putting Mila in danger, Mila’s gasp and ragged breaths pull me back from what would certainly have been this man’s end. Even with the man’s deadweight, I barely notice him as I discard his body beside the door.

Mila has stepped back away from me, her eyes blown wide as she stares at the dealer, but whatever is racing through her mind is hidden behind a blank look.

She pulls her gaze from the unconscious man to snap at me, “What are you doing here?”

My lip quirks when she doesn’t give me a chance to speak, questioning my intentions, “Are you stalking me?”

I give her a bored look, although it was exactly what I was doing—she doesn’t need to know that.

“I was on my way to check in on one of my clubs when I saw a cop trying to question some street rats. So, imagine my surprise, or lack thereof, to see you out here trying to interview people who want nothing to do with law enforcement with no backup… again.”

“Listen, I can handle myself, and my partner who joined me this evening is…” She trails off as she looks down the street to where her partner should have been, but instead, once again, her team has been negligent toward her. I’m sure she can handle herself, but when several people gang up on you, and you don’t have backup, the odds aren’t great for anyone.

She lets out a frustrated noise, one that would be cute if this were any other circumstance and starts muttering to herself. The air shifts around us, the breeze cooler than usual for a summer evening, making Mila shiver. Goosebumps rise along her exposed arms, and I track each and every one of them. Delighting in the way her body reacts to small shifts in her environment.

“Come with me,” I tell her as I brush past her. I don’t wait or hesitate. She likes the authority. Despite the intense control and strict composure she keeps over herself and her routine, it’s easy to see how badly she wants to release it, to break free from its confines.

Soon, beautiful.

Her hesitant steps slowly follow behind me. We walk past her cruiser, her steps slow, but she still follows. Good fucking girl.

A possessive growl rumbles through me at how easily she listens. When we reach my car, I open the passenger door, and my eyes meet hers, the bright Sin City lights illuminating her beautiful features.

Once again, she steps back, shaking her head, “What’s going on?”

Calm, collected composure slowly melts across the fear from her as she eyes the inside of my car like it’s going to jump out and bite her. Like I would ever let something bite, let alone hurt what’s mine.

“You want information. We will get you the information you seek. You are going to get nowhere by talking to these people, especially now that they know you’re a cop.”

Mila gives me a look of uncertainty before looking over her shoulder, presumably down the street where she last saw her partner for the evening.