Swept Away (Wildfire Lake #3) - Skye Jordan Page 0,64

around the corner and down the opposite street. “613 10-43 female suspect,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt while I’m still moving. “Cutting through the yard at 1012 Maple—”

I catch movement on my left and stomp on my brake just as someone runs right into my left front panel and shoots across my hood, tumbling to the ground on the opposite side.

I’m on my feet and around the front of the car, weapon drawn and pointed at Willow Raven, rolling to her back. “Hands, Willow,” I yell at her. “Show me your hands.”

She immediately opens both hands, holding them out to me, empty.

“Keep your hands where I can see them and roll onto your stomach.”

She groans but complies. I pull my cuffs, shove my weapon away, and press one knee to her butt cheek as I secure her hands.

“613, female suspect in custody,” I report, then grab Willow’s bicep and lift. “Get your feet under you.”

We’re both breathless, and Willow’s got blood on her face, but it’s her smile that tightens my gut again. “If it isn’t the hottest cop in Wildfire.”

“613,” dispatch says, “10-21 Sergeant Lucero.”

Having my sergeant request a personal call generally means trouble that has to be relayed privately. My mind instantly veers to Chloe and Bodhi and the hundred ways that could have gone wrong.

But just before I shove Willow into my unit, she laughs and says, “Your precious goddaughter isn’t so precious anymore.”

My brain clouds with confusion and my stomach ices over. I zero in on that fourth suspect. I give Willow a hard shake and a venomous “What did you do?”

When she just laughs, I shove her into the back of my unit, then gun it a few streets over to the original address, a marijuana dispensary.

I can’t think of anything but Piper. God, please don’t let it be her. Even if it is, how badly could she be hurt? There was no report of weapons or gunshots. Maybe it’s minor. Maybe my sergeant just wants to talk to me before letting her off the hook.

When I pull up behind the other police units, my headlights sweep across a gurney on its way into the ambulance. I see Piper’s dark hair, her pale skin. I don’t remember getting from the car to her side. She’s bleeding from her neck, soaking piles of gauze. Her eyes are wild, her expression terrified.

“Piper, I’m here.” I move with them as they lift her into the back, bend over her as they prepare to leave, and stroke her hair off her forehead, tears blurring my vision. “You’ll be okay. I’m right behind you. I’ll be at the hospital. I’ll get your mom.”

She opens her mouth, but the paramedic says, “Don’t talk.”

“Not,” she rasps, barely a whisper. “Not Chloe’s fault.”

That hits me sideways. “What?”

“We’re leaving,” the paramedic says. “Out.”

I let it go. She’s probably delirious. “I’m right behind you, Piper.” I jump out of the ambulance and find Sergeant Lucero waiting, but I can’t do anything but stare helplessly as they take off with the closest person I’ve got to a kid of my own.

“Come with me,” Lucero says. “We’ll take my car. Tommy will get your car and Raven to jail.”

I follow him, flinching when the ambulance’s siren kicks on. Lucero takes off after them with matching lights and sirens. I flash back to the night Keith was shot. To me holding his bleeding head in my lap, promising him I’d take care of Piper.

I press my elbow to the window ledge and my head into my hand, trying like hell to hold my shit together. “What the fuck happened?”

“They were breaking into the dispensary. Piper was cut on the broken window.”

I feel my own blood drain from my head like a receding wave. “Her mom—”

“We got ahold of her. She was in Santa Barbara, and she’s on her way, but there’s an accident on 101, and it may take her a while to get here.”

She’s working on a Sunday? is my first thought.

I close my eyes and rub my hand across my mouth, my heart a fiery knot clogging my throat. I have an insane urge to call Chloe. I want her by my side. Only, Piper’s words return. An instant later, the strange earlier call from Chloe fills my head.

I look at Lucero. “Why would she say this isn’t Chloe’s fault?”

“Chloe Hart?”

“Yes.”

Lucero shakes his head. “No idea. Chloe wasn’t involved. They’re bringing the other kids into the ER to get checked out before we book them.