The Switch Read Online Free Page B

pisses me off, but beyond that, being wrong pisses me off even more.
    Running Shelby out of the shop is not standard procedure. Fleeing a gunman and leaving civilians to deal with his presence is not standard procedure. Using my badge and (half) lying to a business owner in order to find safe haven is not standard procedure.
    “Le Petit Hotel,” I say.
    Sarge mumbles something about knowing where the hotel is before I can even tell him. I stand, pushing the chair back with my legs. Shelby’s eyes follow mine. Her wide, fearful expression intensifies as I back away. I take wide strides toward the bathroom and stare inside the generic space. Cream-colored walls, aged paint, chipped countertop. It’s no showplace we’ve wandered into, that’s for sure. I hear movement behind me but barely register it. Ms. Connor had to move sometime, even if I was starting to think she was trying out to be a statue.
    “Well, dumb or not, you fell into it, kid. You recognize the gunman?” Sarge clears his throat, and I can hear him taking a drink on the other end of the line.
    I try to recall the guy’s face, but I can’t. All I remember are Shelby Connor’s big gray eyes staring at me, begging me for help. And shit, I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty lady in distress. In fact, it’s pretty ladies in distress that have caused me most of my problems in life.
    “No, sir.”
    “Miguel Ruiz,” he says. “Thug. Works security for the Silva family.”
    I roll my shoulders and take a deep breath. Shit. T his isn’t bad—this is fucked. Royally. The Silva family has been running circuits around the city and metro area for decades. Every man in blue knows that family’s money is covered in blood, but they got too many of us on their payroll for cops like the sarge or myself to do anything about it.
    “Way I figure it, son , you find out who this girl is and why she’s running. Get her information and anything else she’s willing to give up. And stick close to her. She might be the break I’ve been waiting my whole goddamn career for.”
    More movement sounds behind me and then the telltale cocking of a gun. I turn around slowly and am met by the tiny Shelby Connors , and she’s pointing a gun right at my chest. “Please put down the phone, Officer Guilliot.”
    “ Sarge, I, uh, gotta go,” I say and shut the phone.
    Shelby’s hands are shaking, tears stream ing down her face, and she’s shuffling from one foot to the other. One look at her and I know she isn’t going to shoot me. I chance a glance at the side of the gun and breathe a sigh of relief. The girl doesn’t even have the safety off.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.
    She blanches at my harsh tone. Good. She has the goddamn nerve to pull a gun on me and doesn’t even have the brains to make sure she can properly use it.
    “I pull your ass out of a dangerous fucking situation, sweat through my fucking clothes so you get to keep your fucking head on your shoulders , and now you’re pulling a fucking gun on me?” Anger vibrates through my chest making the words spill out and sound like a violent rumble.
    “I’m going to walk to the door , and you’re going to let me go,” she says. Her voice wavers and breaks halfway through.
    “Am I?” I say, taking a step toward her.
    She gulps, takes a step back, and her hands shake even more. She can’t keep eye contact.
    “I’ll shoot you,” she say s, nearly a cry.
    “Do what you gotta do, baby,” I say. I step closer, just a foot away from the gun now.
    “Move , or I swear I’ll shoot.”
    Another step and my ches t is butted up against the gun.
    “Please stop,” she cries . Her arms pull the gun back a few inches, and she backs up.
    Slowly, I reach out and place my hand over hers, lowering the gun and angling it away from our bodies. Something I’ve figured out about this woman is that she’s learned how to talk the talk —she just doesn’t have the guts to walk the walk. Whatever