Prichard responds with a lift of his chin and Terrell cocks his gun.

I look to Wilkinson. “You got this?”

“Yes. No problem.” The confidence in his voice is exactly what I want to hear.

“All right, let’s do this.”

Weapons in hand, we point them to the ground, then with stealth movement we make our way to the house, surveying the neighborhood. Most of the dwellings are rundown, some even falling apart, a clear sign of poverty and neglect. There’s about a dozen teenagers playing basketball across the street while an older woman sits in a rocker next door. A little girl squeals, peddling her bike down a nearby driveway as fast as she can, a toddler wearing nothing but a diaper following her.

The man bent beneath the hood of a Cadillac shouts for them to come back home as he spots us.

As Wilkinson heads toward the back, the rest of us step onto the porch, the wooden floorboards vibrating under our feet from the music. We get into position, Prichard and me on either side of the door and Terrell in front. I hold up my fingers, giving him the countdown. On three his police-issued boot meets the door. The sound of wood splintering and the boom of music are all that can be heard. We rush in, guns trained. I’m hit with a thick cloud of smoke, the smell of cheap beer and marijuana hang thickly in the air around us.

“Freeze! Everybody, get down on the ground, now!”

“Da fuck?” Three guys sitting on the couch with a bong placed in front of them jump up like their asses are on fire but none of them follow the order.

“He said down on the ground, now!” Terrell yells, grabbing one of the guys and forcing him to the ground.

The other two quickly comply while Prichard kills the music. “Da fuck you think you’re doin’, asshole? You can’t just come in here without a warrant.”

I drop the white piece of paper down next to him. “We’re here for Reginald West. Where is he?”

“He ain’t here, man.”

Knowing Johnson and Prichard have it under control I move through the house, maneuvering from room to room. I kick down every closed door and don’t find him anywhere.

Fuck!

I start thinking the bastard is telling the truth until Wilkinson’s voice comes over the radio. “Suspect is crawling out the window. He’s comin’ out the back!”

I leap into motion, heading toward the kitchen.

“Freeze, don’t…oomph.”

“Wilkinson?” I yell at the sound of his order being cut off. I jump over the kitchen table to get to the back door and barrel through it. I find the rookie on the ground, curled in a ball, holding his nose. “Fuck! What happened?” I ask, dropping down beside him.

“He got me in the fucking face with a bat.” He points to the left, and I catch sight of Reggie scaling the fence behind the shed.

“Freeze!” I roar, taking aim.

His dark eyes meet mine for a split second, silently taunting me to pull the trigger before he drops to the other side.

I follow in pursuit, pushing myself harder and faster than I ever have in my life.

The image of Liv’s broken, violated body has a terrifying rage burning through me, matching the same intensity as my pounding feet.

I cover the same ground as him in only half the time and find myself in a shadowed alleyway, right on his heels. He slips on a small patch of gravel between the busted-up concrete. I reach for the collar of his shirt, and with a sharp yank I take him down. He manages to twist on his side before I can pin him with my weight, and swings the bat that’s gripped in his right hand toward my head.

I duck, barely missing it, and hear the swift steel whiz past my ear. Grabbing his wrist, I smash his hand to the ground. “Drop it, asshole!” He doesn’t follow the order, only resists more. I jam my thumb in a pressure point and he howls in pain. It does the trick and he releases the weapon. Leaning forward, I shove it out of reach.

His strong body thrashes beneath me. “Get the fuck off me, pig,” he grits out.

Ignoring the insult, I reach for my handcuffs. “Reginald West, you’re under arrest for—”

“For what? I didn’t do shit!”

“No? Then why the fuck are you running?” I clasp one cuff tightly across his right wrist but when I reach for the other he jerks it back, connecting with the side of my chin. I shove his face into the ground and bury my knee into his back. He cries out in agony at the pressure. “Give me your other fucking hand. This is your last warning.”

“Tell me what the hell I’m bein’ arrested for?” I don’t answer until I have the other cuff securely on, then I flip him over, wanting to see his face.

“You’re under arrest for the rape and attempted murder of Olivia Bradshaw.” The words taste like venom oozing from my mouth.

Dark, hollow eyes stare back at me, a malicious smirk tilting his lips. “I’ve never had a bitch scream for me the way she did. She was so fucking tight; I can still feel her.”

My composure shatters as my fists rain down on his face in a succession of blows, each one exposing a darker part of my soul. A part I never knew existed. After only a few solid punches, hands grapple my shoulders and pull me back across the line I just crossed.

“That’s enough, Taylor,” Terrell warns, holding me back as I continue to fight against him. He gets in my face, his hands holding my shoulders in a firm grip. “Find your control, brother. He isn’t worth it.”

“Did you hear what he just said? He fucking admitted it.”

“No, but it doesn’t matter. We got him; he isn’t going anywhere. Let’s take him in.”

His words finally register through my red haze. I nod, struggling to breathe.

We both look back to see Reggie trying to get up, but with his hands cuffed and the few blows I delivered, he struggles. Terrell walks over and yanks him to his feet. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the asphalt before smiling up at me. “You’ll pay for that, asshole.”

“The only one who will be paying, West, is you, so keep your mouth shut and move.” Terrell grinds out before dragging him away, leaving me to stand in numb silence.

I’ve never had a bitch scream for me the way she did. She was so fucking tight; I can still feel her.

I stare down at the pool of blood on the ground and search for remorse, but feel none. Only a deep satisfaction knowing the asshole who hurt Liv has finally been caught and we can deliver justice.

Just like I promised her.

CHAPTER 12

Olivia

I’m sitting beneath the big oak tree, soaking up the late afternoon sun and devouring my current read, when the sound of an engine pulls my attention from the pages. I expect it to be Pap, but when I look up my tummy does a flip and a smile tugs at my mouth when I see Grayson in his patrol truck.

As he steps out of the vehicle I stand and dust off my bottom, making my way over. “Hi, I’m glad you…” I trail off, my smile vanishing when I get a look at his sullen face. “Grayson?”

“Hey, Liv,” he greets me, his voice tortured and low.

Once we reach each other I gasp at the red mark on his jaw. “What happened to you? Are you all right?” I ask, gently grazing my fingers across the wound.

He stares down at me, his blue eyes tormented, making my heart hammer in my chest. Instead of responding he lets out a heavy sigh and pulls me against him, hugging me tight. So tight I have a difficult time breathing.

The act catches me off guard, but I wrap my arms around him, returning his embrace. “Grayson, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” The rough sound of his voice breaks my heart. His hands slip under my long hair as he cups my face. Another bout of anxiety plagues me at his worried expression. “Where’s Walter?”

“He had to make a run into Springfield for some feed and supplies.”

Disapproval washes over his face. “He left you alone?”