Micah’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

But Damon didn’t explain. Taking out his phone, he dialed and held it to his ear, the other line ringing.

“Mayor Fane?” he teased to Erika, I assumed. “Two idiots are drag racing around Thunder Bay. Can you call the station and tell all units to report to Delphi heading east?” he asked and then clarified. “Alllllll units.”

I heard her voice on the other end. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but it sounded like an angry ferret.

“Don’t be a douche,” he said, picking at the cord of his hoodie. “What else do you do all day anyway?”

More angry chatter.

“Suck me,” he mumbled, and then she said something else, and then he said, “Yeah, your mom…”

He hung up and then looked over his shoulder again at Micah.

“How did you know I was the one who knew how to hotwire a car?” Micah asked.

“Because you’re the one with shit to prove to your loser old man,” Damon retorted. “We can smell our own. Now, both of you, hurry up.”

I glanced in my rearview mirror, seeing both of their mouths curl into grins. Yeah, who were they kidding? They liked trouble, too.

Damon withdrew a Slim Jim from under the seat and handed it to them, both of them hopping out of the car and running down the block.

In minutes, headlights illuminated behind us and both cars, a Mustang and a Jeep raced past, disappearing down the avenue.

“What’s the plan?” Damon asked.

I stared at the officer inside the station house. “I don’t know.”

To my surprise, excitement bubbled up from my stomach, and I almost smiled. I had zero clue what the hell I was doing, but I felt like it would work.

“As soon as I get out of the car, slide into the driver’s seat and make sure all doors are unlocked,” I told him. “Got it?”

He nodded, and after a moment, we spotted two police cars exiting the lot from behind the station, their sirens activating as they pulled onto the street.

Erika made the call. Third shift was always light, unless it was Devil’s Night.

“And here we go,” I said.

They headed the opposite direction as Micah and Rory, toward Delphi, and I stepped out of the car, pulling up the hood of my jacket, but then I stopped, and yanked it back off again.

Martin would know I was here. No hiding.

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I ran across the street and up the walkway, opening the door and diving inside the station.

The burly officer with a gray buzzcut and glasses looked up from the counter and immediately smiled, seeing me.

“Germaine.” I greeted him first. “Hi.”

“Emory Scott.” He cocked his head, returning the grin. “Wow. How are you doing, honey?”

“Pretty decent,” I told him. “Is my brother around?”

“Uh, no.” He chuckled. “He maintains an office here, but he stays in Meridian City now. Did you not know he was appointed to police commissioner? He oversees all the departments in a hundred-mile radius. Most of his work keeps him in the city now.” He slid some papers into a file folder and stuffed the folder into a drawer. “But he will be here first thing in the morning. He has a prisoner to attend to whom he’s only too delighted to let sweat for the night.”

I bit back my groan. So he knew Will was here.

“Sounds like him,” I teased, trying to hide my unease.

At least he hadn’t dragged himself back to town tonight to deal with it. That worked for me.

“Okay, I’ll try back in the morning,” I sighed, “but just on the off chance I miss him, may I leave this note on his desk?”

I reached for the message pad and the pen next to the computer, but he waved me off.

“Take it back yourself,” he said. “You know the way.”

My eyebrows shot up. Really? I thought I was going to have to try to sneak past him when he took the note back himself, but here I was, getting a hall pass.

I walked around the counter, toward the double doors. “Is he in the big office now?”

“Sounds like him, doesn’t it?” Germaine grumbled.

Yeah. I didn’t think Germaine thought much of my brother, either. Martin was only thirty-four, and he’d quickly risen through the ranks of Thunder Bay and then Meridian City, shrewd in playing his cards, but I suspected he had help and endorsements along the way. Germaine was easily in his fifties and still…manning the desk.

“Thanks,” I called out. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.”

I pushed through the doors, finding the entire precinct empty, a radio playing somewhere, and computers paused on screens.

Making my way toward the holding cells, I grabbed a ring of keys off Bruckheimer’s desk and looked up, making direct eye contact with the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

I clenched my teeth. This better work. If he came after Will, he’d have to come after me, too, now that I’d been seen, and that would be embarrassing for him.

Pushing through the door, I saw Will standing in the cell, alone in the room with his arms draped through the bars.

I dropped my eyes, finding the key, my heart thundering in my chest. We just had to get out of here.

I didn’t want to know if he had a cell to himself in prison, or if Kai or Damon were with him. I just wanted him out.

I stuck the key in the lock, my hand shaking as he stared down at me, and I twisted it, yanking the door open.

But Will pulled it closed again. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Dammit. I twisted the key again and pulled the door, but he fisted the bars, holding it closed.

“I have a meeting with your brother in the morning,” he stated.

What the hell? I shot my eyes up to him and fixed my glasses, wanting to yell at the jerk, but we needed to get the hell out of here.

I pulled at the door again, growling when it didn’t give.

“Who let you out of your room?” he asked.

“Will!” I begged. “Please!”

We could talk later, for crying out loud.

I tried to pull at the door again, but he reached through the bars and grabbed me by my jeans instead, yanking me in. His mouth crashed down on mine, and for a moment, I was lost in how good he felt.

God.

My nerves were on fire. I wanted him out of here. I wanted him away from Martin.

I wanted him…

I wanted him.

I whimpered as his tongue caressed mine, and I barely even registered what he was doing until cool air hit my breasts and his hand slid down my jeans, between my legs.

He stroked me, his head dipping down and sucking my breast into his mouth through the fucking bars.

“We’re going to get caught,” I said.

He wasn’t listening, though. He came back up, and I held his face as he hovered over my mouth and slipped his fingers over my clit.

“I’m glad you didn’t visit me in prison,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand staring at this through a piece of fucking glass for over two years.”

I kissed him, feeling the goddamn torture of the bars between us.

Never again.

“Breaking me out of jail?” he taunted. “He’s going to hang you for this.”