“You’re going to hear from my lawyers on this!” Collins said in a last-ditch effort to save face.
Nick’s hand slid from the gun to his handcuff case, retrieving the stainless steel Smith and Wesson cuffs. The pastor stood rigid, more out of shock than defiance. Nick reached out and gripped Collins at the elbow, spinning him around.
Nick winced slightly as he locked the cuffs into place on the pastor. The interim week since his stabbing hadn’t left him fit for duty, but he’d be damned if he was going to miss an opportunity to make this arrest. He handed Pastor Jim Collins off to the agent who’d be transporting and processing him.
Collins was walked off the same stage he’d been so wildly welcomed to moments before. Not a sound from his adoring fans could be heard as he was placed into the rear of a blacked-out bureau SUV.
Before the door shut, Nick leaned in and whispered in the pastor’s ear, “I was really hoping you were going to resist a little.”
Nick turned and saw his ragtag group of friends standing by. Declan’s eye was healing, but he still looked like he’d been hit by a bus. Rusty and Jones stood in the backdrop with a satisfied look on their faces as they watched Collins get hauled away.
It was a surreal moment for Nick to see Izzy and Anaya side by side. Both beautiful women. One lost to him and the other an unknown. Izzy smiled coyly and then shot a questioning glance at the social worker. Nick flushed at the realization that Izzy must’ve caught him sizing up the two.
Jones rubbed his belly and said in a thick Texas drawl, “Let’s get some grub. I’ve got just the spot for these Yankees. Y’all ever had brisket?”
The group laughed, and Declan said, “I’d love to, but we’ve got a long ride to make. I’ve got to get back to my little ones. Raincheck on that?”
The group started to separate, and Nick walked with Declan and Izzy over to their rental car.
Declan and Nick shook hands, gave the “man hug” followed by a slap on the back. Each regretted the gesture as soon as the hearty embrace ended. Their injuries throbbed, reminding them of the toll their bodies had taken.
“You think hard about coming back to Connecticut, my friend. If you can manage to keep from getting injured, I might be able to get you a slot on HRT!” Declan said.
“I think my place is here, at least for now,” Nick said.
“We’re here for you whenever you need us,” Declan paused and then added, “I’ll let you kids talk.”
Declan slipped into the passenger seat of the Camry and closed the door.
“He’s right, you know,” Izzy said softly.
“Right about what?”
“About being here for you,” Izzy said, looking into his eyes.
“Same here,” Nick said and then faltered at saying anything more.
“You’re a stubborn ass, Nicholas Lawrence! Do you know that?” Izzy said.
“So I’ve heard.” Nick looked at his former partner and sighed.
He didn’t know the words to say, so he said nothing. He pulled Izzy close and held her. The smell of coconut and vanilla filled the air as her head lay gently over his shoulder. After a short embrace, she retracted, sliding her hands down his arms until their fingertips touched. She looked at him intently, leaned in, and pressed her lips against his cheek and then broke away. She opened the driver’s door and looked up at him as she entered the car, her eyes watering.
“Don’t go getting yourself killed! There’re a lot of people who care about you,” Izzy said, closing the door behind her.
The Camry drove off. Nick looked back toward his black Jetta and saw Anaya leaning against the trunk in a golden sundress that flapped effortlessly in the late afternoon breeze. Nick smiled as he walked in her direction, wondering where this might lead.
Check out the next book in the Nick Lawrence Series
Book 3: The Rabbit’s Hole
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The Lion's Mouth Page 19