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  Yeah, she’d been thinking about that as of late.

  “Just get him to me, Poppy. I’ll make sure he’s okay. He’s my family. He’s my brother. I will get him back on his feet. I won’t let him die. Dimitri is one of the strongest men I know. He’ll pull through.”

  “Then I want an interview. Swear on it, and I’ll deliver him right to you.”

  “Poppy.”

  “Emma, he told me he killed people.”

  Well, holy shit

  That was bad.

  “He was shot and not lucid. You can’t use that in a court of law. You know it.”

  She laughed.

  “Let me help protect him. If Viktor Marchenko is gunning for him, and clearly, he is, let me help keep him safe. I just held his life in my hands all night. I could have let him die. I fought for him. Let me fight for him legally.”

  She paused.

  “Emma. Come on.”

  “I can’t promise he’ll talk to you. Dimitri makes up his own mind, but I’ll try and get him to sit for an interview. For saving a man I love, and call my brother, I’ll help you. For bringing him home to me, I’ll do what I can.”

  “That’s better than nothing.”

  It was all she could give her.

  It was all she could promise.

  Dimitri was a wild card.

  “Really, thank you, Emma. I’ll be there in the hour. Make sure you get that doctor there. He’s going to need to be stitched back up and a ton of meds. He’s a mess.”

  Emma could do that.

  Money talked.

  Dante would get her everything she needed, and Steele would help her patch him back up.

  “Thank you, Detective. I owe you one, and I always repay my debts.”

  She would keep that favor tucked away for when she really needed it—if she needed it.

  “I’ll see you then, Mrs. Croft.”

  Poppy hung up.

  She glanced back at Dimitri, and he was so damn pale. Still, he was so freaking sexy. She was only human, and she’d just spent a whole night body-to-body with him.

  A part of her wanted him to live just so she could stare at him. He had the face of a fallen angel, and she didn’t doubt he had the soul of a killer.

  Bad boys were sexy.

  She couldn’t help herself.

  “Hang in there, big guy. I’m going to get you home. Emma will patch you up. I hope she knows what she’s doing.”

  “Emma,” he moaned. “Emma, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Yeah, and so was she.

  Poppy thought about what Emma had said about Commissioner Raye.

  She’d figured as much when he offered the position, but she never thought about the long line of people before her who went down in flames.

  Patty stout.

  Dead.

  Chris Ford.

  Nearly died.

  Thomas Christ.

  Dead.

  Now she was contemplating that position as captain and she really liked living.

  Why was he offering it to her?

  Did he have some ulterior motive?

  Had Emma Croft just warned her?

  Poppy had a lot to think about before she took that position, and she didn’t doubt this case would put it all in perspective. She was a big believer in fate.

  This was happening for a reason.

  She sent a text to her partner and didn’t say anything about Dimitri Gideon. For some reason, her gut made her keep it to herself. If Commissioner Raye found out she was helping him, he wouldn't be happy.

  There had to be a reason for that.

  Emma Croft had been a good guy at one point.

  Dimitri Gideon was a bad guy, but he didn’t feel like one.

  Something was up.

  And she was going to figure it out.

  This was only the beginning.

  Emma made the call.

  She needed to rally the troops and get everyone ready for what was coming. Out of everything that Poppy Wayne had told her, there was one thing that worried her.

  Not the gunshot wound.

  Not that he’d been nearly killed by Viktor.

  They’d handle that. The family would take care of its own. What really worried her was that he’d told someone he’d killed people, and that was a dangerous thing.

  Dimitri was now in danger, and Poppy Wayne held the key to his future.

  If the woman tried to hurt Dimitri, Emma would handle it on her own.

  Cop or not.

  She didn’t care if she was pregnant.

  Her family came first, and the Gideons were her family. They were hers to protect.

  She was a mother to her core.

  And no one hurt a Gideon. She’d lost one, but there were two more to protect, and she’d handle it.

  One way or another.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Riley Henderson’s

  Home

  Wednesday Morning

  When Greyson Croft pulled up to his house, he could see the man’s truck in his driveway, and there were lights on inside. Riley was definitely home.

  Good.

  He hoped the man was available to pick up a little side work. He was sure it would help them both out. Riley was big into ending corruption, and so was he.

  They could have a beautiful partnership, but it would mean giving up his career. He didn’t expect him to go for it, but he’d still ask the man to appease his wife. She would flip out if he didn’t have backup.

  Emma would try to join him, and that was NOT happening after Reggie’s big TV debut.

  Heading toward the door, he knocked and waited for him to answer. Behind him, Heath stood there, waiting for him to get out of the open.

  He was hovering.

  “I’m safe,” he said, trying to reassure him.

  “Just doing my job, Mr. C.”

  Yes, yes, he was.

  When the door opened, it was Delilah. She was standing there in Riley’s dress shirt and bare legs.

  “Oh, Grey!” she said, stepping back. “I didn’t expect to see you this early in the morning. Were you looking for me?” she asked.

  For once, he wasn’t in need of an attorney. He needed a cop.

  “No, Delilah, not you. Is Riley available? I need to talk to him about something important.”

  “Sure, he is. Come in.”

  Delilah led him into the man’s home, and she headed toward the kitchen. “Who’s your new shadow?” she asked.

  “That’s Heath. He’s one of the Blackhawk bodyguards. He’s on loan.”

  Delilah smiled at him.

  “Welcome, Heath.”

  The big man said nothing, but he did nod.

  Riley stood in the kitchen, making breakfast for his woman. When Greyson headed in, he lifted a brow.

  “Uh oh. What’s wrong?” he asked. “Who died? You don’t make house calls this early in the—ever.”

  Greyson laughed.

  Well, at least they knew him well.

  “I needed to see you and have a private conversation,” Croft stated. “It’s important. Can you spare a moment?”

  “Sure.”

  He didn’t move.

  Maybe he wasn’t clear.

  “Can we do it privately—as in you and me? Alone and without an audience?”

  Delilah stared at him.

  “Uh, I’m your lawyer. If you can’t talk in front of me, who can you talk in front of?”

  “It’s a guy thing.”

  She laughed.

  Delilah didn’t fall off the turnip truck. She knew that was going to be a conversation that involved a whole shit storm. She’d be on duty later to clean it up.

  There was no doubt about that.

  “Uh huh. I’ve heard that before,” she said, taking over for Riley. “Go, handsome. I’ll finish breakfast,” she stated.

  Riley gave her a kiss.

  “I’ll be right back, baby.”

  She watched him walk
away. Then she focused on the large man standing there.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “I can eat.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He finally laughed.

  “I do. What gave it away?”

  “Let’s call it a hunch. Have a seat, I’ll make you some french toast.”

  He sat.

  “Are you really an attorney?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “What kind?”

  “The kind that makes other attorneys shit themselves when I walk into the courtroom.”

  He took the coffee she offered him and gave her his best charming smile.

  “I don’t believe that. You look too sweet. You remind me of a girl I once dated.”

  She smiled.

  The man had no idea.

  She was the queen of the vipers.

  In the other room, the one that Riley used as his office, he closed the door and offered Greyson a seat.

  “It has to be bad if you’re showing up here. What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Thank you for laying low and skipping the funeral. I didn’t want more trouble for you.”

  He sighed.

  More?

  He couldn’t take more.

  “It’s okay, Greyson. The commissioner is riding my ass. He’s got me on indefinite administrative leave. He’s keeping Lester Lucas’s case open to keep me out of the workplace. He knows he can’t do his bullshit if I’m there to do some snooping around.”

  He thought as much.

  “So, there’s no end in sight?”

  “No. I’m going to have to find a job soon. I don’t have a choice. I’m halfway through my savings. He’s trying to hit me where it hurts. My mortgage.”

  Greyson got it.

  Today, that mortgage would be going away.

  Dante would handle it. Riley had helped them, risked his career, his life, and he would be compensated.

  Greatly.

  “I just told Delilah that I may have to go outside of Vegas to find a job. Maybe Reno.”

  “That’s almost seven hours. You can’t commute.”

  He stared at the man.

  “I know.”

  “Is she going to leave with you?” he asked. It would suck to have to find a new attorney. He had the absolute best.

  “No. She has a battle to fight here. We’d have to be a long-distance couple.”

  It hung there.

  Finally, Greyson spoke. It looked like he’d just gotten there in the nick of time.

  “I’m sorry, Riley.”

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. This is on the commissioner. I want to stay and fight, but I have to eat and pay the bills. I won’t let Delilah take care of me. I’m a man. I can’t do it.”

  Greyson got it.

  He was preaching to the caveman choir.

  “Enough about me. Why are you here?” he asked. “Is something up?”

  He told him everything about the case, how they missed something, and how they needed to find the other people, if there were any, helping Rosemary Harrington.

  “Crap. That’s bad.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “I don’t know what I can do. I’m not privy to anything at the office. They locked me out.”

  “Well, you can help.”

  “How?”

  “I need a partner. I can’t take my wife into the field, and Elizabeth Blackhawk can’t be seen investigating with me. She’s handling half, and I’m handling the other half.”

  He listened.

  “Okay. And?”

  “I’m offering you a job.”

  He stared at him.

  “Pardon?”

  “I would like to offer you employment. When this case is over, there will be more cases. We work out of ‘Aquarius’, and there is a job in it for you.”

  “But I’d have to turn in my badge.”

  That was going to be hard for the man. Greyson could tell. He understood. He’d done the same thing, as had Emma, Paris, Curtis, and Tessa.

  They were a band of misfit cops trying to do some good in a city that didn’t give a shit.

  “Yes, you would. You can’t be a cop and be seen around me. That will keep you out of work indefinitely. It’s dangerous, it’s a lost cause, but it will pay the bills and help get people justice. You won’t have to leave Delilah. You could stay in Las Vegas and fight the good fight.”

  He thought about it.

  There were two huge things—losing his badge and losing Delilah. They were both big. Now he had to decide which mattered more to him.

  This was a bad predicament any way he looked at it.

  Be a cop and MAYBE get a job—if the commissioner didn’t put the word out that he was a bad choice, or stay with the woman he was crazy about and be called crooked.

  Holy.

  SHIT.

  This was a big one.

  In two weeks, he would have to make a decision. Up to two minutes ago, Riley was leaning toward leaving Las Vegas.

  Now…

  Not so much.

  Taking this job meant being able to pay his bills and stay with Delilah. She’d offered to help him, but he couldn’t let her do that. He needed to be able to take care of himself and be able to pay his own way in life.

  Plus, if he wanted to marry her one day, he would need a reason for her to say yes. A deadbeat was NOT a reason.

  Greyson could see him struggling.

  He grabbed the pad and pen off the desk and scribbled a number on it. He knew what Riley made as a cop. Emma had the same position at one time.

  He added a zero.

  “This is the pay.”

  He handed it to Riley and the man stared at it, and then at him. “For what? My whole lifetime?”

  He laughed.

  “A year.”

  “Jesus Christ. That’s…insane. That’s more than half a million dollars, Greyson. That’s not funny to joke around about!”

  Greyson was amused.

  “Who is joking? That’s the good part, but there are some things that go with it that may not make it as appealing.”

  “Like?”

  “People hate me, they want to kill me, and you may have to leave this house at some point and move into to Terrace Glen where it’s safe.”

  He thought about that.

  It was a ton of money. It was likely more than Delilah made in a year. That gave him the satisfaction of being able to support his wife if they ever had a kid.

  Woah.

  He was putting the cart before the horse.

  “Just think about it.”

  He was.

  “Delilah is my priority. If I have to move to Terrace Glen, I’d worry about her every second of the day. I can’t leave her out here if someone is gunning for me or you. If I move, she has to come too.”

  He was aware.

  “That can be done. It’s a big house.”

  He looked at the number.

  That would put a sparkly ring on his girl’s finger. It would also get him back into the work he’d once done. He’d been born to be a cop. Now he was on the bench.

  This would put him back into the game.

  “And you pay everyone this?” he asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “I don’t want a handout,” he said, pushing the paper away from him. He knew it was too good to be true.

  “Hold your horses, son. Christopher Ford made more. He was paid more as a captain. Dimitri owns a security company. He makes more. He makes almost double that, as does Dante. He’s CFO of this whole shebang. You actually make the least amount of money.”

  “Really?”

  “Sorry, son, but you’re the low man on the totem. If you worked for Dimitri, you’d make more.”

  “And Delilah?”

  “I pay her a retainer. She makes half that from me, and if you tell her I told you that, she’ll kill us both.”

  He was sold.

  This allowed him
to retain his ego and his woman.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Get dressed. We’re heading out in a few.”

  He stared at him.

  “Now?”

  “What’s your account number?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

  “Why?”

  “It’s payday.”

  He rattled it off.

  Greyson pulled up an app on his phone and punched it in. He put that salary amount in, and he pushed the button. Riley’s phone chimed.

  He picked it up.

  “What the hell? That’s the whole freaking amount! You said payday! That’s supposed to be twenty-six, or fifty-two smaller paydays!”

  He laughed.

  “I pay up front. There are also quarterly bonuses, a company credit card, and we pay for all your needs. Your home will be paid off tonight, and so will any of your debt.”

  “What?”

  “I said…”

  “Are you insane? I need to know if you’re some lunatic. I think I’m dreaming.”

  He laughed even more at that. He was crazy. Crazy about saving this damn city from the dark mire it was sinking into as they spoke.

  “I’m very lucid. You can get a second opinion from my attorney if you need it.”

  “Greyson.”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “No need. You’ll earn it. We have a damn hard job. Get dressed, kiss your girl, and we’re heading out. We have a strip club to hit.”

  He stared at him.

  “Uh, okay.”

  “You can eat breakfast first. I love french toast. Am I invited to join you?”

  “Uh, you just gave me more than half a million dollars and allowed me to stay with my girl. You can have MY french toast.”

  “Thank you for the invite.”

  The joke was on Emma. He was going to get his carbs today on top of those donuts. When he could, he’d play the gluttony card. Who knew when it would happen again?

  “Okay, Greyson.”

  “Welcome to the team.”

  Riley headed out to the kitchen, and he found his girl feeding the big man sitting there. They were laughing and having a good time.

  “Thank you, Miss F. You’re a good cook,” he said. “You’re a catch. Want to get married?”