My self-inflicted headache turns into nausea. My stomach churns, an unwelcome reminder that finishing off my half-empty bottle of Jack last night wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. If Charlotte were home, I wouldn’t have touched it, but she wasn’t and I needed a reprieve. With the anguish condemning me to a life of misery and sleep deprivation, alcohol has become that friend many have had; the one that’s a bad influence, inspiring excitement, contentment, even if it is for just a fleeting moment before leaving you to suffer the aftermath alone. I swallow deeply at the sight before me. Ruins, a mass of destructive temptation. Fuck, get your head together, man.

Cassidy’s lips are moving. Elias is deep in conversation with her while I stand here with them, pretending to be listening, without actually hearing a single word; my mind too preoccupied with not only the bust, but the brown-haired beauty across the room.

She was lucky. Thankfully, I reached her in time, the bullet missing her by mere centimeters. I can’t shake the shiver of pleasure I felt when holding her so close. She was petite and short, barely reaching my shoulders. Given our height difference, I was surprised at how natural it felt having her in my arms. Her body molded into mine like it was exactly where she was meant to be. She warmed in my embrace, heat filled her cheeks, and I had a hard time letting her go once I had stared into the gunmetal blue eyes attached to her sexy, little body. For a moment, I became lost in the murky sea of curiosity staring back at me. She’s beautiful, beautiful in a way I wouldn’t describe most other women. She oozes class and elegance. And those lips, so plump and pink, I’m growing hard just picturing them around my cock.

Her back is turned, giving a view of her spectacular ass. Damn, it’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid. Watching her fuss over the hot mess beside her has me seething. She’s her sister, fuck. Alison goddamn Jenkins, the young junkie who’s been on our radar for years, thanks to the friends she keeps. We knew about a sister, but we’d never seen her. As I look at Alison, then at Lindsey, I sure as shit don’t see any family resemblance. They couldn’t appear more different if they tried, except for their eyes.

They were blonde and brunette.

Weak and strong.

Ying and Yang.

“Boss, you want me to let those two know they have to come down to the precinct to formally give their statements?” Cassidy, the only female detective in our squad, asks, pulling me from my thoughts. Her head’s angled to the side, arms crossed, interest written all over her face. My distracted haze isn’t going unnoticed.

“All good, Cassidy, I’ll take care of it.”

Stalking toward the women, my pulse quickens and fingers itch, the desire to touch her again returning full force; a desire I haven’t felt for fucking years. For a moment comparable to an eternity, she ignited a feeling so foreign I almost didn’t recognize it for what it was. Hope. Was I that far gone I couldn’t appreciate the good I already had in my life? I shake off the thoughts. Now isn’t the time. I’m at work while she’s here; she’s probably one of them. But if she is, why hadn’t we seen her before and why was I saving her from eating a bullet at the hand of Lucio Marino?

Picking up my pace, I catch up to them out the front of the club, but Roamyn’s already onto them, shaking his blond head, his hands up surrendering while Alison gives him a mouthful of sass. Her eyes flicker my way as I approach and her lips lift into a devious smirk. She may have once been a beautiful girl, but now her eyes are sunken, clouded by darkness. She’s a bag of bones while her sister is toned and healthy. And then there’s the track marks marring her skinny fucking arms, giving away her intimacy with illicit drugs.

Telling the women to come to the station, I can already see the irritation grow in Lindsey.

“Why? We had nothing to do with what happened in there.”

Her defensive tone riles me up further and I discreetly shift my uncomfortably restrained cock.

I interrupt, moving to stand beside my partner, shoulders tall, preparing for further argument from the firecrackers in front of me. I try to look the part, face blank, professional.

“Ladies, while you may not have been intentionally involved in today’s events, you are both now witnesses. Meaning, you need to accompany us down to the precinct so we can get your statements. If all appears to be in order, you’ll then be free to leave.”

Almost immediately, the agitation directed at Roam shifts, radiating my way instead. I meet Lindsey’s glare with the same intensity, and she never falters, not once. She doesn’t cower like most people on the receiving end of my frustration. She stiffens, but remains steady, a powerhouse of determination and strength, which makes my dick throb violently for attention. I like strong. I enjoy feisty. I want more.

The silence passing between us speaks louder than any words can. I’m dealing with the female version of myself.

Lindsey turns away and sighs, her shoulders dropping. Was she giving in so easily? A smirk plays at my lips. Maybe I’d pegged her wrong. But as she clears her throat and faces me once again, her fiery attitude holds strong through the depths of her gaze. I can’t help the smirk from breaking wider across my face. The satisfying feeling I might actually be getting under her skin overtakes what professionalism I have left.

I block out Roamyn and Alison, they’re no longer beside us. In this moment, it’s just her and me. Everything else fades away. I get in her space and a hint of something floral dosed in strawberries hits my nose. Fuck, she smells good.

“Or, Miss Jenkins, I can cuff you and make you come in anyway,” I whisper softly and shove my hands in the pockets of my pants, restraining myself from reaching out to touch her. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips. All blood in my brain shoots straight to my cock. Her muscles lose tension and her eyes soften. I take it my message was received. Good. If we were in another place or time, maybe for just one night I could revel in the warmth of this beautiful woman and, for a moment, obliterate the nightmares hijacking my life. But we’re not. We’re in a destroyed brothel posing as a strip club on a Monday morning with people all around us and I have a job to do.

Mirroring my action, Lindsey leans in. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Detective?” She peers up, radiating confidence as if she’s got one over me. She crosses her arms over her chest, accentuating her tits, which I’m sure is supposed to distract me, but it doesn’t. She’s got a beautiful body—I’d be blind not to notice—but it isn’t her tits pulling me in. It’s the ice cold, gunmetal hues with no concern, no distress over the fact minutes ago a gun was to her chin. I scowl at her. With my head tilted to the side, I hold her stare, too mesmerized by her approach, confused by the sentiment.  Damn, I thought I had her.

“I—”

“You know, I deal with a lot of men just like you. I’ve never been interested in arrogant assholes before and I sure as hell am not interested now. So either you show us to the precinct so we can give our statements and go home, or I’ll kindly ask your partner here”—Lindsey smiles at Roam—“Detective Tate, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The bastard grins, nodding eagerly.

“Right. I’ll ask Detective Tate if he could show us the way.” She angles her head as she speaks, stirring every raw nerve in my body. Her tone sweet, yet full of sarcasm. She’s good and she knows it.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Alison quips, breaking the tension building around us. Roam chuckles beside me and I know he’ll be mocking me about Lindsey’s smartass attitude later.

Reaching around to grab her sister’s side, Lindsey envelopes Alison and whispers, “Come on, babe. Let’s get this over with.”