Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1)

by Marika Ray

  Oakley’s jaw clenched tight, and she threw me a dirty look. Ah, all that bottled-up anger may look like an ice queen on the surface, but underneath, she was a cauldron of lava. I just knew it.

  We only got turned around once on our first lap of the county, even with me spending more time thinking of jokes than where we were headed. We ended up on a dead-end road with a farm to our right, open land on the left. The farmer had an entire row of scarecrows lined up on his property instead of a fence line, which was just plain weird.

  “What’s with all the scarecrows?” I asked absentmindedly while Oakley turned the cruiser around in an impressive three-point turn that didn’t have us tipping into the ditch on either side.

  “Well, they keep birds away from the crops,” she began in a voice used for two-year-olds.

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. Even a city boy like me knows that,” I said dryly. “No, but seriously, what’s with that many of them?”

  Oakley shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe one didn’t work, so he figured he’d use a bunch of them?”

  I nodded sagely. “Almost like the farmer found out the hard way that substitutes for the real thing don’t work.”

  Oakley slammed a hand down on the steering wheel and came to an abrupt stop right there in the middle of the road. My upper body leaned heavily into the seat belt.

  “Enough with the jokes! Some of us find that the imitation works better than the real thing.” She tilted her head and gave me a look so full of challenge I had to respond.

  I leaned my elbow on the center console and wedged myself into her space. Her pale blue eyes went guarded, but the way her nostrils flared had me wondering if maybe I got under her skin too.

  “You’re telling me that rubber bunny vibrator is better than a real live man between your legs?” I asked, voice so rough it scraped my throat.

  Oakley inhaled and I could have sworn her pulse fluttered at her neck. The two spots of pink in her cheeks were the dead giveaway. Her hand came up and for a second there, while it hung undecided between us, I thought she might touch my face in an unusual display of softness. Instead, she used her fingertips to push against my chest even as her eyes told me she was fighting a war within herself. I complied, sitting back in my seat and giving her the room she needed to put her ice-queen suit back on. I could only push her so much. I needed this job.

  “That’s none of your business,” she said coolly.

  I winked at her, not put off by her act now that I knew what simmered below the surface. “I take that as a personal challenge.”

  6

  Oakley

  * * *

  “Looks like a big one,” Wyatt muttered, peering through the windshield at the lit-up barn way out in the countryside.

  Today was our one day a week where we pulled an evening shift, and of course we’d get called out to the biggest party of the year. I squirmed in my seat under the cover of darkness, my underwear creating enough friction between my legs to unsettle me further.

  How did I get here? Where an innocent remark from my partner got me so hot and bothered I could scarcely breathe? Ever since Wyatt had walked in on me—gah! I couldn’t even think about it. The whole thing was so salacious I’d tried my best to block it out. Pretend it didn’t happen.

  Of course Wyatt was doing his damn best to make sure I never forgot. All his little innuendos. His suggestions. Asking me about my sex life. He was tearing down that wall of professionalism, one crude sentence at a time. It should have angered me, and normally it would have. Had it been anyone else. But Wyatt? All his comments did was make me go home at night and have to dig out Barney to relieve the pressure.

  After checking my doors were locked, of course.

  A loud bang had me jolting my thoughts back to the job at hand, where they should have been this whole time.

  “Ah shit. Fireworks.” Wyatt shook his head like a disapproving parent.

  “I’ll call in fire,” I muttered, grabbing the radio and letting dispatch know that the fire department should send a truck by shortly to make sure all the illegal fireworks didn’t start a brush fire.

  “I don’t get it. What’s so amazing about blowing off mortars in the middle of nowhere?” Wyatt asked, his eyes narrowed and taking in the party before we got out of the cruiser to break things up.

  I shrugged and went to get out of the car. “It’s just what people do around here.” I didn’t understand it either, but accepted it as part of the job in this county.

  Wyatt got out and fell into step with me as our boots crunched over the gravel driveway and then the dead grass that led out to the barn. The whole damn thing was leaning heavily to the left, and it hadn’t seen a coat of paint in a few decades.

  “Let’s shut it down and get out of here before the damn thing collapses, huh?” I said dryly, grabbing for my flashlight.

  I clicked it on and approached the guy with the rocket launcher on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy. Want to put that thing down?”

  He startled and whipped around, pointing the damn thing at us. Wyatt and I both ducked and moved out of the way. Wyatt’s hand somehow found its way to my back, a warmth I could feel through my bulletproof vest.

  “Put the launcher down!” I yelled, not wanting to lose a limb over a drunk dumbass.

  He dropped it all right, letting it roll right down his arm and hit the ground with a thump. Thankfully, nothing discharged from the mini cannon. He put his hands up, one still clutching a beer can.

  “Who’s running this party?” Wyatt asked, approaching the guy now that his party weapon was out of the scenario.

  The guy swayed a bit as he tried to focus on Wyatt’s face. “Um, well, I’m not exactly sure.” He scratched his cheek and then put his hand back in the air.

  “Who owns this land?” I asked, looking back to the barn to see if anyone had joined us outside.

  “Uh…I think Jimmy does.”

  Wyatt grabbed the guy’s arm and joined me as we went over to the opening of the barn where light and noise spilled out.

  “How about you introduce us?” Wyatt asked him, though it didn’t sound much like a question.

  I swung open the wooden barn door, not at all surprised when the second I let go, it tipped and fell over all the way to the ground, a puff of dirt hitting my boots. We stepped inside, all twenty heads or so swiveling our way. The country music kept blaring from a large speaker in the loft, but otherwise, everything else went silent and still.

  “Howdy,” Wyatt started, taking his good cop role seriously. He sounded downright jovial, like he was here to take part in the festivities.

  “Who’s Jimmy?” I barked, looking each guy in the eye, until one stepped forward.

  He had on overalls made the same year as this barn. Even with some nervous straightening of his dirty blond hair, the guy looked a little worse for wear.

  “I’m Jimmy. Can I help you, officers?”

  “We had some complaints about loud noises. I’m assuming the neighbors didn’t like the fireworks show. As long as you shut that down, I’m sure we can just be on our way real quick.”

  The guy Wyatt had by the arm made a little noise in the back of his throat. He stiffened when Jimmy looked over at him. Jimmy kept his mean gaze on the guy even as he replied to me. “I can guarantee we’ll shut that down. Thanks for stopping by.”

  I nodded, surveying the group. Cards, beer cans on every surface, cigarettes, and open food containers, but not one thing out in the open looked illegal. Well, damn. I’d hoped to have a little fun tonight to take my mind off Wyatt and his incessant teasing. Backing out, I gestured for Wyatt to follow. I made it to the doorway of the barn, resigned to a boring night of patrolling when the guy closest to me took a drink of his beer and then grabbed my ass with a good ol’ boy chuckle.

  Motherfucker.

  I didn’t have to think it through. Instincts kicked in and I spun around with my fist already cocked and flying directly toward the guy’s nose. It connected in the next second an
d my gut rejoiced when I both felt and heard a crunch that could only be one thing. Noise erupted behind me, but all I could focus on was the douchebro holding his bleeding nose, while brandishing a knife. He should have just kept the beer in his hand, because now he was talking about assaulting an officer, traveling up a felony notch or two. He swiped, and I jumped back, feeling the wind, but no pain. The smile that lit my face felt a little crazy. I loved a good fight, and it had been too long since I’d gotten into one.

  “Stand back!” Wyatt barked just inside the barn. He’d drawn his gun, but kept it pointed at the ground. The rest of the partiers had gotten to their feet, but stayed back, smart enough not to get involved in the altercation.

  The guy circled to the left and I did as well, keeping him in my sights. He lunged again, quick on his feet, but not quick enough. The hand with the blade came right for my chest. I leaned left and grabbed his wrist with both hands, using his momentum to keep him tumbling forward. He went down to the ground, and I kept a firm grip on his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. A little tension right there where I’d practiced over and over for years, and he dropped the knife with a wail of pain. I kicked the knife out the door of the barn and got him in cuffs.

  Another cruiser pulled up just as I got the knife-wielding bumpkin in the back of my cruiser. Wyatt had stayed behind in the barn to calm the rest of his friends. They’d quickly turned on him and assured Wyatt they would never come at an officer like that.

  I slammed the door shut and went back in the barn to let Wyatt know I was ready to go. He stood there with his feet wide and his arms crossed over his impressive chest. Maybe it was the leftover adrenaline, but I wished fervently for him to stand that way while he was looking at me. Naked.

  “When she’s back, I expect apologies. Profuse apologies,” he growled. The boys all nodded, wide-eyed and sober.

  “Let’s go, Smith,” I said at the doorway, wanting to get back to the station and drop my guy off so I still had time to do the paperwork before our shift was over.

  “We’re sorry, ma’am,” Jimmy said first, stumbling over his words as he looked at me. “W-we had no idea he had a knife.”

  “Yeah, we never would have invited him tonight if we knew,” another guy piped up.

  “We’re real sorry he grabbed your a—” At the glare and growl from Wyatt, another guy quickly shut up and tried again. “Well, we’re sorry he tried to touch you.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “We’re good, guys.”

  The group of them looked over at Wyatt, who scanned my face and my entire person before giving a small nod. They all let out a collective sigh and had a seat.

  I spun around, wondering just what the hell Wyatt had said to those guys to get them to apologize like their balls were in a vise. At the crunch of Wyatt’s boots behind me, I asked, “What happened to being the good cop?”

  We reached my cruiser before he answered me. “I promised to be the good cop when we’re together. You left. I decided they needed some bad cop.” He shrugged and got in the car, shutting the door before I could reply.

  The whole way to the prison to drop our guy off, I contemplated what I was feeling. I felt off-balance, which was something I didn’t care for. I should have been mad Wyatt had broken protocol and been the bad guy. But he’d had a point. And damn if it didn’t feel good to have someone have my back like that, letting me handle the arrest, while also demanding those guys respect me.

  He’d seen me at my most vulnerable the other night, and yet it appeared he still respected me.

  We dropped my new friend off in booking and then headed back to the station, still not saying much. I had a lot of things on my mind, namely how I’d been wrong about Wyatt. I figured there would be no way to salvage our working relationship after the scene he’d stumbled on to at my house. Apparently, I’d underestimated my partner.

  “You okay?” Wyatt asked quietly, the streetlights on the lonely highway marking time as I drove. “No injuries?”

  “Nah. I’m good.”

  I could feel Wyatt looking at the side of my face. “Still wish you didn’t have a partner?”

  I huffed. “I never said that.”

  He shrugged. “You didn’t have to.”

  Meaning, I’d made it pretty damn obvious he wasn’t wanted. Something about that didn’t sit right with me any longer.

  A long sigh drained the last of my resistance to having a partner. “Fine. I didn’t want a partner at first, you’re right. But I can admit it’s pretty nice to have backup.”

  Wyatt smiled so big I couldn’t help but glance over just to bask in it. “Pretty nice is one way to describe my backup.” He winked suggestively, and I had to clench my hands on the steering wheel to stay focused on the road. “So is mind blowing. Epically unforgettable.”

  I told my heartbeat to calm the fuck down. “Are you always so epically cheesy with your lines?”

  He laughed, the sound a nice rumble for a rainy day and a blanket pulled over my lap, sitting in front of the fire. He settled down, and the miles ticked by in comfortable silence.

  The moment the station pulled into view, he said, “I’m really glad we got partnered up. You can handle yourself, that’s for sure.”

  I glanced over and our gazes connected. A moment of understanding passed between us. A fledgling truce. An unspoken agreement to be friends. Or at the very least, friendly. Needing to turn into the parking lot was the only thing to make me break away from his gaze.

  I’d sent Wyatt home earlier than me, wanting to get the paperwork done before I called it a night. He’d offered to stay and help, but I didn’t want more time with just me and him in the dark and deserted station. Come morning, it would be filled with lights, people, noises, and the smell of coffee and donuts. Right now though, in the middle of the night, it was far too secluded for my comfort. By the time I got home, all the lights in his house were off next door and it took the buzzing of my phone to keep my brain off the question of what he slept in, if anything.

  Amelia: Can you keep a secret?

  Oakley: I swear to God, Amelia, if you tell me that baby isn’t Titus’s I might just kill you.

  Amelia: Wow. That was really harsh, Oak, even for you. What if that’s really what I had to confess to my big sis? And secondly…if I’d cheated on Titus, you’d have to get in line to kill me.

  Oakley: Sorry, just a long night. What’s up?

  Amelia: We’re going in tomorrow for the sonogram, where they might be able to tell the sex of the baby. Can we put you down as the one to receive the information? We don’t want to know until the baby shower/gender reveal party.

  I thought that whole gender reveal thing was a bunch of bullshit created for pretty social media pictures to show off to the world how wonderful your life was and how much everyone else’s sucked by comparison, but who was I to burst my sister’s bubble of baby craziness?

  Oakley: Of course.

  Amelia: Remember, no matter what I say, beg, or threaten…DO NOT TELL ME.

  I snorted in the quiet still of my house. If I could get to sleep in the next hour, I could still get a decent night’s sleep before the sun came up.

  Oakley: I’ll keep my service weapon ready.

  Amelia: I knew I could count on you. xoxo

  Now if I could just count on myself to keep the walls around my heart solid. Wyatt and I might be on good terms for the first time, but he was way too hot to get casual with. He could incinerate my heart with just one smoldering glance. My plan to be sheriff in ten years depended on me doing the right thing. Not doing my partner.

  Of course, that one thought set my brain off in directions it shouldn’t. I was digging out Barney from my bedside drawer before I could get my brain to settle enough to sleep. Funny how even an orgasm couldn’t completely still all the thoughts and feelings about Wyatt invading my quiet life. He was my partner at work. Nothing more.

  So, why did that little voice in the back of my head keep talking about him?

 
; 7

  Wyatt

  * * *

  “Okay, let’s talk past relationships,” I announced to Oakley, knowing she would fucking hate the idea.

  That’s what kept me going during those long stretches of patrol when nothing happened and the cruiser went silent. I wanted to get to know my partner. I could only stare out the window at the passing farmland for so long before I wanted to fling myself out of the moving vehicle just for some fun. The invasive questions were for work purposes. Better to fully understand your partner so you can count on them in times of stress on the job. I wasn’t asking these questions for personal information or because I couldn’t stop thinking of the tiny blonde officer on my time off. Nope, not at all.

  She snorted. “No, thanks.”

  “Great. I’ll start.” I clapped my hands together and got the ball rolling. “I’ve dated a lot of women, but no one has stuck around longer than a couple months. I’m not opposed to something long term, I just haven’t found the right woman.”

  “That’s what they all say,” Oakley muttered under her breath.

  I leaned closer, liking the way she stiffened in response. “What was that?” Oakley had a section of hair braided today. It was still all pulled back in a low bun, of course, but the feminine flair when she was normally so stiff and proper was driving me batshit crazy.

  Oakley rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond when the dispatcher’s voice came through the radio.

  “Got a lookie-loo saying there’s something happening at an abandoned warehouse up by San Mateo county line. Give it a look-see, will ya?”

  We both paused after the radio crackled. I hooked a thumb at my dash. “Is she for real? What the fuck is a look-see?”

  Oakley smiled and shrugged, clearly enjoying the slang. “Guess our ghosts-of-relationships-past conversation will have to wait,” she said as sweetly as I’d ever heard from her. The sweetness—even fake—combined with that smoky quality of her voice sent a fissure of pleasure down my spine.