The Firm Hand of the Law Read Online Free PDF Page B

sense of right and wrong had been skewed from the moment she took her first breath. Her blue eyes burned into his, laden with tension and fear and under that a rage which was disquieting coming from such a pretty girl.
    She didn’t know it, but she had him hooked. Fragility and strength in a package that spoke to neither of those qualities was a rarity. Yes, she was a criminal born and bred, but she was not a bad person. Lily stuck to her principals, awful as they were. He could work with her. It was just going to take some time.
    Now he was letting her go, her irritation was surfacing. Probably the result of not having to keep herself so composed anymore. If he kept her in a little longer, she’d probably have a breakdown. The hour was late and she was clearly exhausted. Ordinarily, it would have been the point where he finally got what he wanted, but what he wanted in this case wasn’t a confession, it was cooperation, and you couldn’t brute force that.
    “I’ll give you a ride home.”
    “No you won’t,” she snapped. “I’ll make my own way back, thanks very much.”
    Independent to the point of putting herself in harm’s way. Gareth considered giving her another damn good spanking but decided against it. She’d had enough for one evening. There would be time to slap her round little rump again another day.
    He accompanied her out of the interview room and took her to the front desk, where they had her things ready to go.
    “Stay the hell away from my bar,” she growled as she picked up her plastic bag full of personal effects. “And stay the hell away from me.”
     
    * * *
     
    Angry, Lily stepped out into the cool night air. It was close to three in the morning and she was beyond exhausted. That asshole cop had deprived her of the little down time she actually got. She started walking, not intending to walk the whole way home but needing to cool off a little and enjoy the freedom. Cells made her claustrophobic at best.
    She hadn’t got more than a block from the station when squealing tires made her heart skip a beat. There was barely time to dive down into the stairs leading to a basement apartment before bullets started ringing out. One, two, three shots all seemingly directed at her slammed into the brick behind her, shearing off red shards and puffing mortar dust into the air while the shooting car sped off as quickly as it had arrived.
    She put her hand to her face. It came away wet with her blood. A string of expletives escaped her mouth as she came up to a crouch, peeking up over the lip of concrete.
    Footfalls came at a run, then strong hands lifted her up off the ground as if she were no more than a rag doll. “You alright?”
    Gareth put her on her feet. Of course it was him. He’d probably been following her. She was momentarily impressed that she hadn’t spotted him. Usually tails stuck out like sore thumbs, especially on otherwise empty streets.
    “I’m fine,” she said between gritted teeth.
    “You’re bleeding.” His hands slid over her body with professional care, checking every inch for injury. In spite of her irritation and animal fear, it felt good to be touched by someone with that much strength at his disposal. He was there, and she was safe, even if she didn’t want to be. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” It wasn’t an offer for help, it was an order of help.
    “I’ll be—”
    Her objection was cut off before it could be fully formed. He took her by the hand and led her back to the station. This time she was spared the cells; instead she ended up in an office bathroom, fluorescent lights flickering in the early morning. It smelled of bleach and men.
    “Sit up on the counter.” He tapped the top of it, as if she might not know what he wanted if he didn’t make it absolutely clear.
    “I don’t need to sit on the counter, I have—”
    Before she finished the objection, she was sitting on the counter. Gareth had reached under her arms and hoisted her up against