A couple curious stares come my way, but they bounce away again relatively quickly. I don't even have to turn around to know that's because of the growling giant pressed up against me. The way he hovers over me makes it clear to everyone that I'm his and he doesn't share. Anytime anyone even looks in my direction, a little warning growl rumbles in his throat.
"Yeah. Though now I'm thinking maybe too many of them are here," he mutters when another guy looks in my direction and smiles.
The guy—a blond with a big smile and even bigger ears—catches Roman's gaze and the grin slides off his rapidly paling face. He quickly jerks his gaze away.
"Stop growling at everyone," I hiss, my face flushing.
"They need to stop looking at you," he says like he's annoyed. "You're pregnant."
"And you're being a caveman for no reason."
"I don't know why the fuck they keep looking at you when you're obviously carrying my baby," he complains. "Rude motherfuckers."
I roll my eyes at him. He's being ridiculous, but I'm not surprised. He's always growly and possessive when other men come anywhere near me. He doesn't even like when Finn or Brady hug me, and they're both happily married. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't tattooed his name on my forehead yet.
Luke and Brady just grin at him like they think his behavior is funny.
"Do not encourage him," I mutter, glaring at both of them.
"Told you falling in love was a fucking trip, brother," Brady mutters with a laugh.
Roman grunts and then squeezes my hip. "I guess we need to get this show on the road." He nods toward the front of the room where Finn is waving him over. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in that direction. Luke and Brady fall into step behind us, hovering like a protective wall at my back.
Silence falls over the room as everyone turns to watch us make our way toward the front of the room. My face flushes at the attention, but I keep my head held high.
Once we make it to the front, Roman turns toward me and tucks my hair behind my ear before pressing his lips to my forehead and then to my lips in a tender, intimate kiss.
"I love you," he whispers.
"I love you too."
He helps me settle into a chair at the side of the small, raised stage. Luke and Brady take seats beside me. Everyone else files into seats behind us as Roman, Finn, and the man they were talking with earlier jog up the couple steps to the stage. Roman and Finn take a seat while the other man—an older man with graying hair and a kind smile—heads toward the podium.
Despite having my back to the room, I can feel the curious stares of Roman's team. It's disconcerting to have so many eyes on me, but I know they're just curious. Roman never dated before me. I guess they all want a look at the woman he went to war to protect. I have a feeling they all think I'm the reason he finally agreed to take this position.
As the man at the podium—Agent Jeffers—starts talking about Roman, it's obvious that everyone here has a lot of respect for my man. They cheer and whistle, clapping loudly as Jeffers lists Roman's accomplishments.
I can't keep the proud smile off my face as Agent Jeffers keeps going, talking about how Roman spent more time undercover than any other agent, and how much he sacrificed to maintain his cover. My eyes drift to him often, only to find him staring right at me every single time, heat in his gaze.
I shiver beneath the weight of his stare, my body reacting to the dark desire in his eyes. I don't know how he does that, how he sets me on fire just by looking at me, but he does. It's like he's stripping me down to nothing but base need when he looks at me like that. Like he sees every thought in my mind, every secret desire, and loves every single one of them.
By the time Agent Jeffers calls Finn up to the podium to officially promote Roman, my entire body is hot and aching, and I can't sit still. I feel drugged, dazed by lust and love for this incredible man. I can't wait to get him home and strip that uniform off of him.
"I've tried for years to convince Roman to take this position," Finn says into the microphone, staring out at the crowd, "but he always turned me down. Every time, someone would ask if I was disappointed. My answer remained the same: Not once did I expect a different answer when I offered him the position. Not once did his refusal disappoint me. Not once have I doubted his commitment to this team and to public safety."
I see Luke and Brady both nodding.
"I don't have to tell you that you're getting a damn fine cop and a damn fine leader. You already know it," Finn says and then pauses when everyone claps. "You also know that we've suffered serious blows this year. But I will tell you this: there is no one I trust more to lead this team out of the dark than Roman. There is no one more prepared to make tough choices for the good of everyone. There is no one who understands better than he does what is at stake here. He's put this team first every single day for most of the last year without complaint, without thanks, and without expectations, and I have no doubts that he will continue to do so as your new Commander."
Another round of applause ripples through the room, louder than before. Tears well in my eyes, pride coursing through me as Finn calls Roman up to the podium beside him and tacks a new pin on his uniform before pulling him into a proud hug. Agent Jeffers then steps up beside them.
Roman lifts his hand and raises his voice, repeating the oath of office in solemnity. His eyes stay locked on me the entire time. And when he's finished, he shoots me a grin so full of love I fall a little bit deeper.
Chapter Eleven
Roman
Introducing Mila to my team isn't nearly as stressful as I expected it to be. As we make our rounds after the swearing in ceremony, everyone is polite and professional. They keep their eyes to themselves, though I'm guessing that has more to do with the fact that I keep her glued to my side, not letting her stray more than an arm's length away.
She pokes me in the ribs several times and huffs that I need to stop glaring at everyone, but she's crazy if she thinks I trust any of these fuckers near her. I know how half these guys spend their spare time. I've listened to them detail their conquests for years. No fucking way am I letting them anywhere near her without making it clear she's off limits. They're good guys, but trust is damn hard to come by these days, especially when it comes to her.
As we make our way from group to group, the fact that we're all struggling with the trust issue hits me right in the gut. Half the guys on the team look at one another with a worried gleam in their eyes that wasn't there two months ago. I find myself grinding my teeth each and every time I see the barely concealed looks of distrust bouncing around the room. These guys have worked together for years. Rebuilding what Remi destroyed is going to take a long fucking time.
I do what I can to remind everyone that we're in this shit together. That we're a team. That we're brothers. I'm not sure it helps any, but it's all I have to offer at the moment. It's going to take more than quiet reminders to fix the problem. They need answers…and those I can't give them without putting Kincaid, Luke, and several others in jeopardy.
"I hate to dip out, but I gotta go, man," Brady says, walking up and slapping me on the back as Mila and I talk quietly with Scott Pierson, one of my SWAT guys, and Addison Russell, our newest dispatcher.
"You're leaving?" Mila asks, her face falling in disappointment.
"Yeah, doll. I only flew in to see this guy get promoted, and my flight leaves soon. I promised Carla I'd be home tonight." Brady pulls Mila in for a hug, kissing her gently on the cheek. He whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh softly and then he holds his hand out for me.
I clasp it and pull him in for a hug.
"Thanks for showing up, brother," I murmur, damn grateful he was here for this.
"You know I've got you." He returns my embrace. "You take care of her, you hear me?"
"With my life," I promise.
He nods and then hugs Addison and shakes Scott's hand.
"We'll walk you out," I murmur to him and then say
a quick goodbye to Addison and Scott.
Mila and Addison share a hug before she slides her hand into mine and lets me lead her across the room.
"You've got your work cut out for you." Brady pitches his voice low to avoid being overheard as we head toward the door. He grimaces, shaking his head. "That prick has everyone rattled."
"How is everyone feeling about Sanders?" I ask, knowing damn well he was gauging that situation for me too. That's what Brady does, feels shit out. He's good at reading people. He's also good at hearing what they don't say. He never worked with the SWAT team, but a lot of the guys on SWAT are in the gang unit, and he worked with them for years. He knows them as well as I do. I trust his judgement, perhaps better than I trust my own right now.
"There are a few who aren't thrilled with the way the situation played out, but most aren't surprised." Brady shoots me a look of disgust. "He's always been aggressive toward women. They figured it was a matter of time before he fucked up and took it too far."
"Would have been fucking nice had someone passed that concern along before now," I growl.
Mila squeezes my fingers like she's trying to comfort me.
"No kidding," Brady says. "But they trusted that he wouldn't cross that line. You can't blame them for that. No one's blaming Gunner for what went down. They know he did what he had to do. But trust is hard to come by right now, man. You're going to fight an uphill battle the entire way."
"Figured as much."
"Word of advice?"
I jerk my chin in a nod.
"You want them to trust each other, you're going to have to give them a little trust too," Brady murmurs, giving it to me straight. "They take their cues from you and Finn, always have. So long as you're both staying tight lipped and not telling them what's up, they'll keep looking at one another sideways."
"Fuck," I sigh heavily, raking a hand through my hair. "You're right."
"I know I am," he says with an amused chuckle before he sobers again. "You've got this shit, Roman. They've looked up to you for years and trust you to do what's right. Give them a little trust back, and you'll turn this shit around."
"Yeah, thanks."
"Yo, Roman!" Luke shouts as we duck out of the conference room.
I glance up to find him waving me over from the doors to the elevator, a worried look on his face.
"Go deal with that," Brady says, giving me another fist bump. "I'll call you later."
"Have a safe flight."
"Bye, Brady," Mila calls as he jogs toward the doors.
As soon as he's out of sight, we head toward Luke.
"What's up?" I ask when we make it to him.
"Remi was just spotted in tent city," he mutters, sending my heart slamming against my ribcage.
"How long ago?"
"Five minutes," he says. "LAPD chased him into an abandoned warehouse. They think he's still inside."
"Fuck," I growl, shrugging out of my tie and tossing it to Luke. I yank my dress shirt off over my head and toss it to him too, leaving me in a t-shirt and my formal uniform pants. "Did they go in after him?"
Mila reaches out and plucks my shirt and tie out of Luke's arms, folding them neatly.
"No. They set up a perimeter and called for you. When you didn't answer, they called Finn. Where's your phone?"
I pat my pockets but don't find it. "It's on my desk upstairs," I mutter.
"Finn and Knox are going to meet you there."
"Tell them to get there as soon as possible. I may need both of them."
"Will do," Luke says and then hands me his phone. "We'll grab yours."
I jerk my chin in a nod before pulling Mila in and kissing her hard on the lips. "I've gotta go," I whisper to her, feeling like shit for leaving her in Luke's care yet again.
"Go," she says without hesitation, smiling up at me. "I'll be fine."
"I love you."
"I love you too," she says.
I hug her to me for a long moment, breathing her in, and then I release her and take off toward the stairwell that leads to the parking garage.
"Be careful," she calls from behind me.
"Are you Agent Gregory?" an LAPD sergeant with a jagged scar across the side of his face asks when I jog up to the barricades they've stretched across the roadway, flashing my badge when one of his coworkers tries to stop me. He waves me through and I duck under the tape keeping bystanders away from the building.
"Yeah. What do you have?" I ask, quickly assessing the area. This is too fucking public. There are people milling all over the place, trying to figure out what's going on. More than one bystander has a cellphone trained on the officers blocking the roadway around the massive warehouse, filming every move LAPD makes like this is some movie.
"A subject matching Remi Pledger's description was spotted about an hour ago by one of our guys," the LAPD sergeant—Sergeant Braxton—tells me, brusque and to the point. He waves over the officer in question. "Donaldson attempted to stop him and the suspect fled. Donaldson called for backup and pursued him here."
"How sure are you that it was him?" I ask, pinning the younger officer with a hard look when he jogs up to us.
"Positive," he says, his expression as confident as his tone. "I called out his name and he turned to look at me. As soon as he saw my uniform, he bolted."
I clench my jaw, nodding.
"I'm not certain, but I believe he was carrying a baby, sir," Donaldson says.
"You're fucking kidding me." I rake a hand through my hair and growl a string of curses. If he's got a kid in there with him, this could turn bad fast. "How certain are you?"
"He was definitely carrying something that looked like a baby," Donaldson says, "but I can't swear that's what was in his arms. He stayed several yards ahead of me and had his back to me."
"That's why we opted not to go in after him and called for you," Sergeant Braxton says, bewilderment funneling through his expression like he doesn't know what to make of this situation. When he crinkles his brows, the scar on his face draws up, pulling at the edge of his lip. "If he does have a kid with him, this could turn into a hostage situation."
"You've got the place surrounded?" I ask, my tone grim.
Braxton nods.
"How long after he went inside did you have a perimeter set up?"
"Within minutes," Braxton says. "As soon as Donaldson called for backup, our units patrolling the area started this way."
I eye the building for a moment. Checking the place is going to be a bitch. The thing is three stories tall and falling apart. The windows are boarded up, meaning it'll be dark as hell inside. There's no telling how long it's been sitting empty, so the integrity of the structure is questionable too. If he's inside, he could be anywhere. If he's got a kid in there, this could absolutely turn into a hostage situation or a shootout.
"You need to get all these people back further," I order Braxton, pointing at the growing crowd. "Move them to the end of the block and get them behind some actual barricades. Use vehicles if you have to do it, but that tape isn't going to cut it."
Sergeant Braxton hits the button on his radio and starts barking orders, instructing his guys to move people back to the parking lot at the end of the block.
"Get me a radio and a couple flashlights with fresh batteries," I tell him once he's finished.
"You're going in?" He blinks like he expects me to hang around out here with everyone else.
"Do you want to go in after him?" I snap at him.
He blanches at my tone, his brows snapping together.
I bite back a curse, trying to get my temper under control. None of this shit is his fault, but I'm not in the mood to have to explain every little thing. "If he's got a kid in there, we can't send SWAT in after him," I explain far more patiently than I feel. "And we can't just stand around out here and hope he comes out. So yeah, unless you have a better idea, I'm going in after him."
Braxton's lips compress into a thin, disapproving line and then he curses. "Fuck,
do what you have to do," he mutters. "You know the man better than I do. Donaldson, find him some light."
"Yes, sir!" Donaldson jogs across the street to the group of uniformed officers now ushering people down the street to the parking lot barely visible at the far end. Most go willingly, keeping their grumbling to a minimum. A few stand in a group, arguing loudly with one of the officers. He barks something at them and reaches for his cuffs. They quickly decide to heed his warning and move slowly up the street behind the larger group.
While we're waiting for Donaldson to find a couple lights, Braxton's radio chirps.
"Go ahead," he says, hitting the button.
"Sarge, we've got an Agent Knox Cooper down here," comes through a moment later. "Says he's with Gregory."
"Let him through," I tell Braxton before he can even ask.
"Let him through," Braxton orders.
A few minutes later, Knox comes jogging up the roadway, weaving around the patrol cars blocking the road. Like usual, he's dressed in a button down and slacks, his vest strapped over his shirt. Even with the vest, he looks more like a GQ model than a cop, but no one else tries to stop him.
"Heard you needed me," he says, reaching out to bump my fist.
"Yeah. Pledger may be inside with a baby."
Knox arches a dark brow, but doesn't comment. He just nods and turns his gaze to the warehouse, sizing it up. His shrewd gaze sweeps along the front of the building, lingering on the boarded up windows and then darting upward to count floors. Once he's done, he grunts and turns back to me.
"We need light," he says.
"Already on it." I point to Donaldson who's jogging back toward us, flashlights and a borrowed radio in his hands.
"Batteries were changed on these before shift," he says, handing over the flashlights and then the radio. "You should be good to go."
Desire Me (Her Best Friend's Father Book 4) Page 17