![[B.S. #2] Bound to Cyn](https://fs.dianahicksbooks.com/527591/thumbs/152x264/bs-2-bound-to-cyn.jpg)
last time. I just didn’t think a club in the outskirts of town would be so dangerous.”
Clay looked down at Chase’s dejected look and just gritted his teeth. Chase meant to help. He just wasn’t equipped to do it. “OK, Chase, here’s what we’ll do. The other side of the club is the vanilla bar. We will plant you there and maybe you can be our ears and eyes over there.”
Chase perked up at being included. He hadn’t said anything to the guys, but sitting behind a desk all day was getting boring. Working with the guys on their last case had been one of the most exciting things in a long time to happen to him. He wanted to experience the thrill again he had felt when they had out foxed the Feds and the drug lord and saved Avery. He didn’t want to blow it now and have James disbar him from future missions.
Lance, who was had been listening to their exchange walked over to his desk and picked up the ringing phone. He hung up as Clay got through talking to Chase. “That was Grant. He thinks we have something this time. He’ll be here soon with the feed from another camera.”
* * * *
Angel was starting to worry. Cinnamon hadn’t said a word since they had left the club, except to give him directions to her house. He couldn’t do anything to reassure her. He wanted to reach out and hold her, at least touch her and tell her everything would be OK. But he couldn’t as he was having a hard time driving a car with his knees up to his chest. He felt like a sardine in a packed can. His lady would have to get a new car if she expected him to ride in it. He was surprised that they lived in the same neighborhood. The houses were all small, cozy ranch houses. Angel had bought his because it reminded him of his grandmother’s small home on the reserve when he had first moved here. Back then, he didn’t know how long or even if their new business would take off. Now, even though money was no object, he still didn’t think to move from the small house that he was so comfortable living in.
Pulling in to a neat little bungalow with colorful flower beds surrounding the walkway to the house, Angel liked what he saw. It was trim, neat, and colorful, just like her, at least he thought she would be when not scared half to death. Cinnamon didn’t move and just kept staring out the widow even though the car was now parked in her driveway. Angel was starting to really get worried now.
He pulled himself out of the tin can and, after straightening up and shaking the cramps out of his body, he walked to her side of the door and opened it. Cinnamon seemed to come to her senses when he opened the door. Her eyes were wide open, as if he had startled her again. Angel gently reached in and removed her seat belt and helped her from the car. Holding her arm, he walked her up the well-groomed path to the front door. Cinnamon was now digging in her purse for the keys. Finding them, she reached out to unlock the door, but her hand was shaking so much she couldn’t get the key in the lock. Angel pried the keys out of her grip and took them and opened the door. Feeling for a light switch, he found it and flooded the living room with light.
Now he could see her clearly. He could make out that her pale face was covered in sweat. She looked like she was going to pass out. Angel scooped her up in his arms and made his way to a couch he could see on one wall. Gently laying her down on the couch, he looked around for the kitchen. He found an archway, and after making sure that she was fully laid out on the couch, he walked to the room, turned on the light, and searched her kitchen for a glass. Filling it with water from the sink, he hurried back to Cinnamon. Cinnamon was now sitting up and was holding her head with trembling hands. Maybe he should have taken her to the hospital.
Dropping to his knees in front of her, after he pushed the coffee table out of the way, he took one of his hands and put it on the back of her head and tried
Clay looked down at Chase’s dejected look and just gritted his teeth. Chase meant to help. He just wasn’t equipped to do it. “OK, Chase, here’s what we’ll do. The other side of the club is the vanilla bar. We will plant you there and maybe you can be our ears and eyes over there.”
Chase perked up at being included. He hadn’t said anything to the guys, but sitting behind a desk all day was getting boring. Working with the guys on their last case had been one of the most exciting things in a long time to happen to him. He wanted to experience the thrill again he had felt when they had out foxed the Feds and the drug lord and saved Avery. He didn’t want to blow it now and have James disbar him from future missions.
Lance, who was had been listening to their exchange walked over to his desk and picked up the ringing phone. He hung up as Clay got through talking to Chase. “That was Grant. He thinks we have something this time. He’ll be here soon with the feed from another camera.”
* * * *
Angel was starting to worry. Cinnamon hadn’t said a word since they had left the club, except to give him directions to her house. He couldn’t do anything to reassure her. He wanted to reach out and hold her, at least touch her and tell her everything would be OK. But he couldn’t as he was having a hard time driving a car with his knees up to his chest. He felt like a sardine in a packed can. His lady would have to get a new car if she expected him to ride in it. He was surprised that they lived in the same neighborhood. The houses were all small, cozy ranch houses. Angel had bought his because it reminded him of his grandmother’s small home on the reserve when he had first moved here. Back then, he didn’t know how long or even if their new business would take off. Now, even though money was no object, he still didn’t think to move from the small house that he was so comfortable living in.
Pulling in to a neat little bungalow with colorful flower beds surrounding the walkway to the house, Angel liked what he saw. It was trim, neat, and colorful, just like her, at least he thought she would be when not scared half to death. Cinnamon didn’t move and just kept staring out the widow even though the car was now parked in her driveway. Angel was starting to really get worried now.
He pulled himself out of the tin can and, after straightening up and shaking the cramps out of his body, he walked to her side of the door and opened it. Cinnamon seemed to come to her senses when he opened the door. Her eyes were wide open, as if he had startled her again. Angel gently reached in and removed her seat belt and helped her from the car. Holding her arm, he walked her up the well-groomed path to the front door. Cinnamon was now digging in her purse for the keys. Finding them, she reached out to unlock the door, but her hand was shaking so much she couldn’t get the key in the lock. Angel pried the keys out of her grip and took them and opened the door. Feeling for a light switch, he found it and flooded the living room with light.
Now he could see her clearly. He could make out that her pale face was covered in sweat. She looked like she was going to pass out. Angel scooped her up in his arms and made his way to a couch he could see on one wall. Gently laying her down on the couch, he looked around for the kitchen. He found an archway, and after making sure that she was fully laid out on the couch, he walked to the room, turned on the light, and searched her kitchen for a glass. Filling it with water from the sink, he hurried back to Cinnamon. Cinnamon was now sitting up and was holding her head with trembling hands. Maybe he should have taken her to the hospital.
Dropping to his knees in front of her, after he pushed the coffee table out of the way, he took one of his hands and put it on the back of her head and tried
Similar Books
