But instead of going ballistic like usual, he extended his hand to Diego. “Officer.”
While he hadn’t gone into a jealous rage, there was no mistaking the disdain in Dave’s tone. And from the way he was trying to crush Diego’s hand as they shook, it was obvious there was some kind of testosterone-laden display going on. Diego didn’t seem to notice.
“Mr. Cowell,” he said.
With the pleasantries out of the way—if you could call them that—Dave turned his attention back to her. Even though he was as tall as Diego, he wasn’t nearly as muscular. And while she’d fallen for those clean-cut good looks and that Ivy League charm when she was eighteen, they’d stopped doing anything for her a long time ago.
“What are you doing here, Dave?” She folded her arms. “And don’t tell me you just happened to be in the area.”
“No, I wasn’t in the area.” He regarded her thoughtfully, his expression impossible to read. “I heard on the radio there was a hostage situation at the diner and remembered we used to come here together when Brandon was little. And…I can’t explain it, but I got a feeling you were both in danger. Something made me drive down here to make sure you were safe. Good thing I did because the first thing I saw when I got here was you and Brandon coming out of the diner and being taken to an ambulance.”
Bree had to bite her tongue to keep from calling BS on that entire lame-ass explanation. Her ex had always been a vain, narcissistic man who assumed anything he said would be accepted without comment. The thought she wouldn’t believe what he was saying likely never entered his mind.
Dave had always been erratic, but his stay in prison had made it worse. Since he’d gotten out, most of the time he didn’t seem to remember he had an ex-wife or a son—which was perfectly fine with her. Other times, he’d show up and act like she and Brandon were precious to him. He never mentioned he’d been absent from their lives. He acted as though it had simply been a weekend business trip, not a five-year prison sentence. Bree didn’t buy his act and knew Brandon didn’t, either.
Currently, Dave worked in the downtown financial district near the Trinity River. If he was all the way over here in north Lochwood, it was more likely because he’d been stalking them than anything else. There was no way he could’ve gotten here this quickly otherwise.
“Thank you for worrying about us, but there was no need,” she said. “We have Officer Martinez to thank for saving our lives.”
Dave’s gaze went to Diego, his expression calculating. After a moment, his mouth curved into a duplicitous smile. “Then it looks like I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. Bree and my son are the most important people in the world to me. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost them.”
“I was just doing my job,” Diego said. “The real credit should go to Bree and Brandon. They risked their lives to help two DPD officers. They were amazing.”
Bree was stunned at how thrilled she got at Diego’s words. It was silly, of course. She and Brandon had done nothing more than press some dish towels to the officers’ wounds, desperate to stop the bleeding. They’d been successful more from luck than skill. Still, it made her stomach do funny little cartwheels to know Diego had seen their efforts and appreciated them.
“It’s nice to know that someone else thinks as highly of Bree and Brandon as I do,” Dave said with a nod, the fake smile disappearing. “They’ve been through a lot today, so if you’ll excuse us, I’ll take them home. Thanks again for your help.”
Like hell he was taking them home, Bree thought as Brandon tensed beside her. Once again, Dave seemed to have forgotten they were divorced—and had been for years.
Diego must have picked up on the sudden tension, because before she could say anything, he stepped a little in front of her and Brandon like he’d done earlier, his big body forming a shield between them and her ex.
“That’s not going to be an option at the moment, Mr. Cowell,” he said firmly, and from where she stood, Bree knew his eyes were locked on Dave’s. “Bree and Brandon both played a key role in the events that occurred in the diner. Getting their statements while their memories are still fresh is critical. We were on our way to the police station when you stopped us.”
Diego’s tone left no doubt in Bree’s mind that she and Brandon would be leaving with him, regardless of what Dave thought about the subject. An all-too-familiar flash of anger entered her ex-husband’s eyes and Bree held her breath, sure the idiot was actually going to try to fight Diego right there in the middle of a street filled with witnesses—and other cops.
Bree knew it was horrible, but she almost wished Dave would do something that stupid. She was certain Diego could deal with anything her jerk of an ex threw at him. She immediately chided herself, hating the thought of Brandon seeing something like that. There was no love lost between him and his father, but her son had been through enough because of Dave’s anger-management issues.
To her surprise, Dave took a step back. She was even more stunned when the fury on his face disappeared to be replaced by curiosity.
“Why do you need their statements?” he asked in a tone that was way too calm and even for the man Bree knew. “I thought the gunman in the diner killed himself. Why would anyone care enough to bother with statements?”
“Who said anything about the gunman killing himself?” Diego asked from where he still stood in front of them.
Dave shrugged. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
Diego seemed to consider that a moment before he nodded. “You probably shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Regardless, we still need their statements. Unless you have a problem with that?”
Her ex-husband regarded Diego for a moment before giving him a smile. “Of course not, Officer. I wouldn’t dream of causing a problem.” Leaning to the side to see around Diego better, he caught Bree’s eye. “I’ll call you later to make sure you got home okay, babe.”
As Dave turned and walked away, a shiver of unease slid down Bree’s spine. He continued to creep her out all these years after their divorce. He’d treated her like a piece of property when they’d been married and still did. The controlling jerk couldn’t seem to get it through his thick head that she wanted nothing to do with him and hadn’t for a long time.
Then Diego’s big, warm hand was on her arm and the dread she felt immediately faded away. “You ready to get out of here?”
She glanced at Brandon, who eagerly nodded.
“Definitely,” she said.
Chapter 3
After what the kid had gone through that morning, Diego expected Brandon to be quiet during the drive across town to the SWAT compound. Instead, he talked from the time they’d left the parking garage until Diego pulled Bree’s SUV into the visitor parking lot across the street from the fenced-in facility. Brandon had asked a few general questions about being a werewolf, like if they turned every time there was a full moon—Hollywood was doing the werewolf community no favors with that crap—but mostly it had been a nonstop monologue on everything he’d experienced over the past month and a half since going through his change.