“Come on.”
He opened the door and stepped out ahead of her before towing her with him. His grip was firm as he propelled her down the driveway.
“Would you wait a minute?” She tried to shake him off. “I’m not finished here.”
“Yes, you are.” He stopped and tugged the latex glove off her hand, then stuffed it into his pocket. “Trent picked up on the scanner that there’s a possible burglary in progress at this address.”
Kira’s heart lurched. “Where is he?” She glanced around, but Trent’s Explorer was nowhere in sight. She didn’t see any patrol cars, either, or hear any sirens, so that was a good sign. Still, her heart was pounding as Jeremy pulled her toward the street.
“Gimme your keys,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“I’m driving.” He steered her toward her car as the faint wail of a siren sounded in the distance.
“Crap!” she said.
“Come on.”
“That sounds far away.” She stopped to rummage through her bag. Where were her damn keys? “We’ve got at least a minute or two—”
“Stop!”
A spotlight blinded her.
Beside her, Jeremy went rigid.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HANDS UP! Police!”
Kira squinted at the light as she raised her hands in the air. Jeremy’s hands were already up. “Officer, I have—”
“On the ground!” The voice was panicked now. “Now! Now! Now!”
Jeremy lowered himself to a knee as the cop rushed forward and shoved him to the pavement. He must have seen the gun.
“I have a concealed-carry permit,” Jeremy said. He said something else, too, but Kira didn’t catch it because his face was turned away, his cheek flat against the concrete.
“Hands behind your head!” The cop looked at Kira. “You, on the ground!”
Kira’s heart sprinted as she lowered herself to the pavement a few feet away. She awkwardly tried to keep her hands above her head as she stretched out on the driveway and rested her cheek on the cool cement.
The cop barked orders at Jeremy as he disarmed him and slapped on a pair of handcuffs.
“Any other weapons?” he asked, patting him down.
“No. I have a concealed-carry permit in my wallet,” Jeremy said. “Right behind my driver’s license.”
Jeremy’s voice sounded calm and controlled, which was amazing considering he had a knee in his back and a nervous cop yelling at him.
The officer stood and looked at Kira. “Any weapons?”
“No, sir.”
“Don’t move.”
The cop was short and stocky and had a flat nose. He knelt beside Kira and patted her down, then searched her backpack, keeping his eyes on Jeremy the whole time. Even disarmed and cuffed, Jeremy was obviously the bigger threat.
Kira’s chest tightened. The smell of asphalt filled her nostrils as she tried to breathe steadily with her cheek against the ground and her hands on her head. She thought of all the police shootings she’d seen on the news as the wail of sirens grew louder and louder until it was like a bullhorn in her ear.
The cop got to his feet as a car screeched to a halt at the end of the driveway. Two uniformed officers jumped out, weapons drawn, and every muscle in Kira’s body tensed. They exchanged words and gestures with the first responder before finally putting away their guns.
Kira looked at Jeremy. His face was still turned away, and his hands were cuffed behind him. His black T-shirt had ridden up, and she could see his lean waist and the empty holster that had once held his gun.
Kira squeezed her eyes shut as her heart jackhammered. He could have been shot. They both could have. They could still get shot if some panicky officer pulled up to the scene and misread the situation.
The noise was deafening, vibrating through her body and reverberating off the asphalt. It was unnerving as hell, and she couldn’t hear herself think.
All at once, the sirens ceased, and the only sound was the ringing in her ears.
“On your feet.”
A hand clamped around her arm and pulled her up. It was the first responder, the stocky one. He spun her toward the headlights of the parked police car.
She looked over her shoulder at Jeremy, still prone on the driveway.
“Officer, if I could explain—”
“You have any drugs on you, ma’am?”
“No, I—”
“This your vehicle?”
“The Toyota. Yes, that’s me. Officer, this is my friend’s house, and we’re just—”
“Any weapons in the car, ma’am?”
“No.”
“Step over here.”
Jeremy sat jammed in the back of the patrol car, his hands trapped behind him, watching the situation unfold as he tried to keep a lid on his temper. Just outside the window, Kira stood talking to a police detective, trying to convince her of something, although Jeremy couldn’t make out the words.
The mention of Charlotte Spears had defused a situation that had nearly exploded after the first responder caught sight of Jeremy’s SIG. The guy had rookie written all over him, and Jeremy knew all too well that inexperience, nerves, and loaded semiautomatic weapons were a bad mix.
The tall blond detective had arrived looking pissed off, but whatever tale Kira had spun managed to calm her down some. Not enough to free Jeremy from his vomit-scented cage, but at least they weren’t being hauled downtown.
Kira wasn’t, at least. Jeremy’s fate was fuzzier.
The detective stepped over and jerked the door open, letting in a swarm of mosquitoes. Awesome.
“Step out of the vehicle, please.”
He squeezed his knees past the seat and swung his legs out. Spears stepped back, and Jeremy levered himself from the car. She motioned for him to turn around, and Jeremy’s gaze locked with Kira’s as the detective removed his cuffs.
Kira watched him, biting her lip. Jeremy shook out his arms and felt the blood returning to his fingers.
“Mr. Owen, Ms. Vance, you’re free to go.”
The detective handed over Jeremy’s wallet. Even in jeans and worn sneakers, the woman had a professional way about her that suggested she’d been on the job a while.
“My weapon?” Jeremy asked.
She jerked her head at a uniform beside her, and the man pulled Jeremy’s gun from the back of his utility belt.
“Good thing your permit’s in order,” Spears said as the man handed over the pistol. “I would have hated to spend my night hauling you in.” She looked at Kira. “No more unauthorized visits. We clear?”
“I told you, I—”
She held a hand up. “Save it. It’s past my bedtime.”
And with that, she walked off.
Jeremy looked at Kira, conscious of the chilly stares from the remaining cops on the scene. As the officers returned to their cars, Kira took a tentative step forward.
“You okay?”
Jeremy checked his magazine, then tucked his SIG into his holster. “Let’s go.”
He led her back to her Toyota and slid into the passenger side. He racked the seat back, but it was still a tight fit.
Kira got behind the wheel and looked at him. “Where’d you park?”
“Around the block.”
She turned the key, and the engine choked and coughed.
“Don’t say it,” she said, pulling away from the curb.
Jeremy gritted his teeth.
“I don’t need to hear it again.”