Mine to Hold Read Online Free

shrugged. “Of course.”
    “So I pushed and pushed my editor, Preston, for meatier stories. On New Year’s Eve, he assigned me to cover a party that Martin Carlson and his wife were giving. During the party, I sneaked away to call the babysitter and check on Seth. I overheard Carlson on the phone, talking. He threatened that he’d better see the money show up in his Cayman account or the police would be banging on the door the next day. Then I heard Carlson specifically call Double T by name and tell the guy not to fuck him over or he was going to find his ass in prison and his operation shut down.”
    Thunder rolled across Tyler’s face. “The gangster Double T of the 18th Street gang?”
    “Precisely,” Delaney said grimly. “Everyone who knows anything about the drug scene near the Pico-Union district knows that he rules his turf with an iron fist. Carlson didn’t see me, thank God. It was a short conversation, two minutes max. But after that, I started digging. I wanted to write a story that would blow Preston away.”
    “Oh, fuck. Double T isn’t the person to get all tenacious and crusading about.”
    “Preston said the same thing. He wanted me to call the feds.”
    “Clearly, you didn’t listen.” And Tyler looked more than pissed about that fact. “So Double T is trying to kill you because you know some of his crap?”
    “I think it’s Carlson, actually. I got my hands on a copy of one of the evidence logs down at your old precinct, Rampart. I’m pretty sure it was tampered with. A whole bunch of guns and bags of white powder, supposedly with Double T’s prints, suddenly turned up missing. I took a picture of the original log. Carlson and some beat cop went in the evidence room. But when I looked again, it only listed the beat cop’s name. I hunted that rookie down and found out he’d supposedly died during a drive-by.”
    The frown that crossed Tyler’s face wasn’t comforting. “Gangsters don’t usually shoot cops without provocation. It brings too much shit raining down on their head, which is bad for business.”
    “Exactly. No one else died in the incident, either. One shooter, one bullet, which seemed even more fishy. So I kept investigating. I found one of Double T’s lieutenants, Lobato Loco, who wanted to make a power play, so he was willing to talk off the record. He didn’t like his boss giving the ADA a cut of the money and figured that he could eliminate the problem and Double T at once by snitching anonymously to a reporter. He said he’d sign an affidavit to that effect.
    “Armed with information, I went to Carlson’s office and asked him about his dealings with Double T on the record. Of course he denied everything, but after that, shit started happening fast. I went to the police, but none of Eric’s buddies wanted to lift a finger to help the bitch who’d cheated on him, least of all that creep, Becker the Pecker. So I had to fend for myself, especially since I didn’t have any tangible proof of Carlson’s guilt.”
    “Motherfucker,” Tyler muttered. “Did you tell Eric this? You might be divorced, but he wouldn’t want you dead.”
    “I left messages. He didn’t call back.” She pressed her lips together, watching as Tyler got angry all over again.
    In some ways, Tyler had always been more protective than Eric. Her ex-husband had always said that she was strong and capable. He’d never seen her as needing a champion. Tyler had his affable moments, but underneath, he was pure caveman. He’d threatened to bust up just about any asshole at Rampart who’d dared to ogle her or acted a bit too friendly.
    “Wait!” She pushed a hand against Tyler’s chest when he looked ready to charge forward and find someone to beat the crap out of.
    But her fingers encountered hard muscle, bulges, sinew—all male. Delaney gulped and withdrew her hand from the burning heat of Tyler’s skin. Too often, she’d mentally replayed their night together and remembered the