the ground.
Gnashing my teeth together, I holstered my gun, made my way forward to the chain-link fence, and scaled the thing like a fucking monkey. When my boots hit the other side, I took off again, gun back in hand as I sprinted across the street.
“2457 crossing Thirty-Second to Hancock. Foot pursuit still in progress,” I said, just in case they couldn’t tell by my gasping breaths.
Jesus, I needed to start working out again—or at least more than I already was. Before my little stint in the hospital, this foot chase would’ve been a breeze. But right now, Martinelli’s desire to get away from me made me have to dig real damn deep.
As he ran down another side alley, I followed, and when he stopped and turned to take two shots, I dove to the side, my shoulder colliding with solid brick, the bullets barely missing me.
I steadied myself and fired back, and my aim was spot-on. A bullet caught Vincent in the thigh, and he cried out, dropping his gun and grabbing at his leg. I ran forward and shoved him back into the wall away from his firearm. He swung out, his fist socking me in the cheek, causing spots to dance across my vision, before I could put all my weight into holding him in place.
“I told you to fucking stop, asshole.” I holstered my gun and got all up in his face. “When you run, it just pisses me off.”
“Fuck you.”
A hiss of air left Martinelli’s lips as I “accidentally” bumped into his injured thigh. Then I grabbed his wrist and spun him around, forcing his front to kiss the bricks.
“No thanks. But I’m sure you’ll find someone willing where you’re going.”
Once the fucker was secured, I reached for my radio and put in the call. “Squad, this is 2457. Shots fired by police, roll an ambo to Thirty-Second and Hancock. Suspect is secured.”
Well, I’d wanted something exciting for my first case back—mission accomplished.
2
Xander
THE SOUND OF Sean’s SUV in the drive alerted to me his return, as I added a sprig of parsley to the pasta I’d prepared for dinner. I headed to the door and checked the peephole, and when I was sure it was him, I lifted the chain.
This had become a new habit of ours over the past week. Sean had gone back to work and I was the one at home waiting for his return. It was weird but somehow the most normal thing in my life these days. Monday, however, that was all about to change.
At Marcus’s—or Sean’s—request, I’d taken the rest of the month off and was seeing a therapist who’d helped me deal with everything I’d been through over the past few weeks. But now it was time to try to reclaim a little bit of my old normal, and that meant returning to my everyday life. First step, work.
“Hey, anchorman, I’m home.”
I looked up from the glass of wine I’d just poured, and when I caught sight of Sean walking into the living room, my mouth fell open. His face looked as though he’d gone three rounds in a boxing ring. Bruised and battered on the left side, his cheek had a cut to it and was starting to color.
“Jesus.” I quickly put the bottle down and made my way out of the kitchen. “What happened to you?”
Sean chuckled as he shrugged out of his sports coat. “I caught the bad guy, that’s what happened.”
At the broad smile that crossed his lips, I frowned and reached for his face. “And in the process ran into his fist?”
“Oh.” Sean touched his fingers to his cheek and then grinned. “This is nothing. I cleaned it up. You should see—”
“The other guy?”
“Yeah, but he’s in lock-up, so…” Sean reached for my waist and drew me close. “How about I just tell you how amazing I am instead?”
I placed my hands on his chest and looked up into his handsomely rugged—if slightly battered—face. “How about I doctor this cheek a little, and then you can tell me how amazing you are.”
“Deal.”
“Okay, sit. Why don’t you start in on this?” I handed him the glass of wine. “And I’ll go and raid your first-aid kit.”
“Hmm, I could get used to this. Wine, dinner, and first aid given to me by the man voted… Wait, what was it? Sexiest anchorman in the country.”
I crossed my arms and stared down at him. “And where did you come up with that little gem of information?”
“I might’ve