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parking lot.
    Oh, I want Heather Mackenzie. I want her and I will have her.  But don’t mistake me getting tripped up by a woman for the first time as me becoming weak, or losing an ounce of blood lust.
    Several more events occurred tonight which eclipse the minute details you aren’t willing to look at, little one.
    First,
why
the hell does little Miss Heather need to not only carry, but very efficiently carry two guns?
    Heather thinks she clever and she’s convinced me of her false intentions of what it really is she wants from me, it’s time I learn the truth about what the little sideline watcher really wants.



Chapter 6
    My oldest brother, Cody’s voice shakes the windowpanes in the living room. “What the FUCK was that, Mac?”
    I blow out an exasperated sigh before rolling my eyes and sweeping my fingers through my hair. When I look back at Cody I pin his eyes with mine. “I’m trying a different tactic, big bro, not that it concerns you.” Rebellion is rolling off me in waves and I could fucking care less. I’m surrounded by all three of my brothers in a torture chamber that resembles the ninth circle of hell masked as an interrogation.
    Rick, the middle brother barks, “Uncle Jay already called. His men watched as they recorded the entire scene going down. He’s pulling your badge, Mac. You’re off the case. Hell, after what Jay described I doubt you’ll even be allowed a second chance in the department after your suspension is over. You fucked up tonight, kid. Big time.”
    Oh my God, please tell me this is not really happening! Tell me. This. Is. Not. Really. Happening!  I leap from the interrogation room, I mean living room and storm into my room
.
T
ossing clothes, toiletries, shoes, and my shoulder holster with both guns into a big duffle bag, I grab my purse off the bed and swing both over my shoulder before barreling towards the front door only to be stopped by all three of my brothers yelling in semi unison, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, Mac?!”
    I spin towards them, standing to my full height which still puts me a foot and a half shorter than the shortest of them, Bobby and throw my badge on the floor at their feet, “Tell Jay I don’t want this case. If he’s going to strap it chock full of stipulations I don’t want shit to do with it, him, or the entire fucking department. I’m done! I can’t take this shit anymore! I’m twenty-five years old! Not twelve! I’ve been through the academy, I spent my time on the streets, and I’ve been the lead detective on this case for two years! I don’t deserve to have to live my life like I am some child in need of supervision! I want all of you to leave me alone, dammit! I’m through! With every last one of you! Through!”
    I slam the front door behind me and storm outside. Tossing my bags into the passenger seat, I slip behind the wheel and stare through the windshield watching the rain fall without a clue as to where the hell I’m supposed to go.

    I spent two weeks at a Holiday Inn. Two weeks.
    Then I got pissed. After I showered and shaved from armpits to tip toes, I lathered lotion onto every square inch of skin before pulling on my shortest skirt, and a silky top with a plunging neckline so low it required double-sided tape to keep my breast from escaping.
     
    I
run
my mousse covered fingers through my long curly hair and
apply
a whole lot of eye makeup and a little swipe of nude lip gloss, then I buckle the ankle strap of my six inch black peep-toe Louboutins, grab my duffle bag and purse, check out of the hotel and
drive
until I pull up to the gate surrounding Roman’s… what? Mansion? Manor? House of epic proportions?
    After hitting the intercom it crackle
s
,
dead silence
is
the only answer for almost five whole minutes. I speak not one word, suddenly uncertain of my plans and concerned for my safety in Roman Payne’s grasp, or better said, his lair.
    I am on the verge of throwing my ’69 Shelby into