This shit is getting crazy, Day thought as he and God raced towards the sound of danger. It was what they did. But if someone had just knocked off two of the few leads in their case right under their noses, Day was going to flip his shit. Right after his husband flipped his shit for the tenth time this week. It was starting to feel as if they’d lost control on the streets. Their task force was still well known and feared by drug kingpins up and down the East Coast, their reputation preceding them. But, of late, they’d taken a few too many losses for their overachieving liking.
“Talk to me,” God rumbled into their comms system.
“We lost him,” Steele came back.
“Fuck the man in black. Just get to our witnesses. Now!” Day barked, doubling his speed and taking the stairs three at a time.
“Copy,” Steele huffed.
God was ahead of him now and Day kept his eyes trained over their shoulders. He heard heavy boots hitting the concrete stairs, closing in fast behind them and knew it was his enforcers by their synchronized steps. Ruxs and Green moved the same as him and God—as one.
Commotion exploded on the third floor, and Day saw God pull one of his gold and chrome Desert Eagle handguns from his holster, compelling him to pull his Glock. As they burst through the stairwell door, God aimed left and Day skidded up close to his side, aiming his piece to the right. He swung around at the sound of a loud thud as a man’s body hit the wall several feet away from them, a pained wail escaping him before he crumpled to the floor. God had only taken a couple of steps when another man came flying from the intersecting hall, slamming into the guy on the ground. He shifted his jaw with his hand as if the punch that floored him had dislocated it.
Holy shit.
“Get up,” The younger man groaned from the floor.
“Shit. It’s Jason.” God gritted out, recognizing their witnesses as he raised his weapon.
The oldest Stewart brother noticed them, his furious brown eyes wide as he hunched over in agony.
Jason pushed at the smaller one, his brother. “I can’t. Just run, Marcus.” Jason’s gaze didn’t linger on them long, instead he looked more afraid of what was coming towards him from straight ahead.
Day frowned, not knowing what the hell was happening. He felt Green and Ruxs come through the door and take a defensive position behind them.
“Steele, Tech, we’re on the third with a situation,” Day said sharply into their earpieces.
“Copy,” Steele answered. “We have a visual on the man in black.”
The hairs on the back of Day’s neck rose and he had that familiar feeling that something crazy was about to happen. None of them could see down the intersecting hallway, making them inch cautiously along the wall with their weapons raised. There was only one other way out. Jason’s little brother leapt to his feet and ran in the opposite direction.
“No! Watch out for Kellam!” Jason tried to warn his brother but he was too late.
Three red and black throwing blades hit the wall in rapid succession, embedding themselves only inches from Marcus’s temple the second his foot rounded the corner.
“Fuck!” Marcus yelled, falling onto his ass, his shocked gaze going to the wicked-looking blades that had just missed him. He began to crab-walk away from what was advancing towards him.
“Atlanta PD!” God barked loud enough for the people in every apartment on that floor and above them to hear. Whoever the hell had come for their witnesses needed to know who the fuck they were. “Come around that corner slow with your hands up!”
Day squeezed the grip of his gun and pressed his back flat to the wall in case more knives preceded their black bogey. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, but the cunning trap that had been set for Jason and Marcus was so tight, Day was half expecting to see a couple of Satan’s imps.
Certainly not what he did see.
A man who stood no more than five-six, five-seven, dressed head to toe in black, took the corner with the grace of a panther—and his body was as sleek as such. The hood of his midnight tunic was pulled so low over his face, Day could only see the slight curve of his peach lips. He continued a stealthy advance, though his hands were out at his sides, showing compliance. But Day wasn’t easily fooled. No one could just throw blades like that. This wasn’t some petty thug sent to rob Jason and his brother.
Steele and Tech rounded the corner with their weapons raised and trained on the bogey’s back. He had nowhere to go except through them or to face whoever was still down that intersecting hall. And they didn’t have to wait long to see who that was.
A black man dressed in jeans and a charcoal, thigh-length leather coat stepped into the opening, his dark eyes searching intently, ignoring everyone, until they landed on the man in black. Then he wasted no time positioning himself in front of him.
“Don’t move!” God ordered, and the four of them got into a tight diamond formation and closed the distance between them and their defenseless witness at the feet of some unknown killers.
“I’m just reaching for my identification,” the man said, making all of them slow their steps.
Day’s mouth fell open when the tall Adonis produced a glistening gold badge suspended from a gold-link chain tucked inside his expensive-looking sweater and let it rest between his pecs. All of them lowered their weapons at the same time, God throwing up his hands in disgust.
Steele shook his head, mumbling as he holstered his weapon. “Not again.”
“We’re bond recovery agents. I’m Ty Jenkins. This is my partner Kellam,” the taller one said, as if he was the field leader.
The silent blade-thrower slowly flipped back a layer of his tunic, showing his bounty hunter’s star clipped to a wide cotton belt. The bolder of the two spoke with such confidence and air of command it was as if he didn’t realize he was addressing six outranking officers. “We have arrest warrants for both of these men and they’re coming with us.”
“The hell they are,” Steele said coldly.
“Let me fuckin’ guess,” God gritted out through clenched teeth. “You two work for Duke.”
The black man frowned as if surprised but nodded.
“Oh, come on. Where the fuck does Duke and Quick find these guys, man? First he scored the King brothers, now he’s gone and hired Shaft and fuckin’...” Day waved his hand at the man still standing dutifully to the side of his partner, whose hood was far too low on his face to even make sense. “The fuckin Prince of Persia over here.”
Day stared disbelieving as the young man slid past Steele and Tech to retrieve his blades that he tucked somewhere around his damn wrist then returned to his partner’s side. It was insane the kind of men Duke employed at his busy bail bonding company. He and his business partner Quick were solid guys and they did good work in Atlanta. But it was never fun to run into Duke’s men in the field, and this was precisely why. It was instances like this that made Day want to shut the man’s company down.
“I’m glad you know who we are. We’ll collect our bounty and be on our way.” The hunter who called himself Ty reached into his partner’s tunic and pulled out a folded show-cause bench warrant for them to see.
Day moved past God to get a closer look at Duke’s new recruits. They were an interesting enough couple for sure. It was obvious by their close proximity and familiar body language they were more than just work partners. The taller one radiated a dominant vibe, and Day had to admit he was curious to know this serious young man’s story. But just because he walked the walk and talked the talk, didn’t make him the boss.