Chapter 90

Sinead kept her hand gripping the door handle of the car to stop herself from putting a hand on her gun out of sheer nerves.

How long had it been, now? She couldn’t ask Jules again without raising her partner’s suspicions.

Marc had gone in, undercover and alone, to try and do something stupid. Why had she let that happen? Why did she let Jules push for this and back her up in the end? He wasn’t a trained officer, he wasn’t an actual CI. This was already fucking insane, and then the black SUVs had shown up.

She’d allowed it and backed it, because it had to happen. Jules was right. Marc was willing. Hell, Marc practically seemed eager to do it.

And Sinead knew that him doing this meant her owing him again, and even if last time had been weird and strange and out of left field, it had also put a buzz in her because the next time...

Next time, Marc was going to fuck her. There wasn’t anything else she could imagine him teasing her with, and he’d brought her to the fucking brink. Terrifyingly leaning over the edge and feeling like she would go fucking insane if he didn’t, and for some godforsaken reason, being even more turned on that he could do that. Especially with her knowledge, and with her consent.

So she wanted to owe him. And that led to this.

Sitting in the car, stomach up in her throat, her entire body tensed because her professional and romantic life were both currently in a crazy amount of danger.

“Th-” she started to mutter, pissed off at herself and not sure whether she was cursing out herself, the situation, or Marc.

“Car,” Jules interrupted, sitting up. “His car.”

Sinead let go of her grip on the door, hoping she hadn’t left too much of a nail indent on the fake leather, but she was still tense. Marc could be dead and they were moving his car. Or tied up in his own trunk, being brought out of the city to be killed and buried. Or being willingly kidnapped to be brought to another location. Or any number of other stupid things he could have gotten himself into because he lived his life like a fucking movie character instead of a regular person.

“That’s him,” Sinead said, trying not too hard to sigh in relief as Marc’s car turned onto the slushy street and pulled towards them. She couldn’t only see his vague presence in the driver’s seat from this distance, but she was sure.

Two men closed the gate into the warehouse yard after his car.

Marc drove slowly up the street and didn’t slow down as he came up to and passed the two detectives, though Sinead was sure they made eye contact. He didn’t look roughed up or anything.

“Why’s he driving with his window open?” Jules asked.

“I dunno,” Sinead frowned. That was weird with how cold out it was.

They waited a full minute before turning on the car and following Marc, just in case anyone had been watching him leave. That was one long fucking minute as Sinead tried to keep her legs from giving in to restless leg syndrome and start bouncing, and the two of them watched the fenceline to see if they could spot any movement.