Night Is Darkest by Jayne Rylon (books recommended by bts .TXT) 📕

“If you planted that shit on Lacey’s coffee, I’m going to fuck you up.” Mason got right in Jerome’s face as he snarled the threat.

Behind them the chief cursed. “Is he going to be able to keep his act together?”

“Depends on if he believes the dude or not.” Tyler shrugged. If Jerome had caused the wreck, Mason was likely to kick his ass but someone would probably pull him off before he did permanent damage or got himself fired.

Lacey shuddered in his hold. “Jerome wouldn’t hurt me, Tyler. I keep telling you guys that.”

“We’ll see, little one.” He refused to entrust her safety to blind faith. “I hope you’re right.”

If not, maybe Jerome would get his ass kicked twice. Once for causing the crash and once for betraying her friendship.

Jerome laughed at Mason’s bluster. “You expect to come in here and scare me into confessing with that bullshit? What is this, some bad TV show from the 80’s?”

“That man must have a death wish,” the rookie, Razor, mumbled as he shook his head.

Mason slapped his palms on the stained Formica table. “You only have something to worry about if you’re the bastard who drugged Lacey. Only if you’re the fucker who caused her to crash into that tree.”

Jerome grimaced, his chocolate eyes matching Mason’s heat for a moment. “I don’t know jack about any drugs but I’d never do something to put that girl in jeopardy. In fact, I’d gladly give you a hand in taking out whoever did.”

“Not a smart thing to admit in a police station, shithead. Especially not when you’ve got two priors for assault on your record.”

Lacey gasped at the news her friend wasn’t the gentle giant she’d thought.

He lifted one mammoth shoulder. “I ain’t no saint but you’ve got the wrong guy this time.”

“Then why wouldn’t you talk to the detective?” Mason studied the other man while skepticism rang in his voice but his posture had relaxed a bit.

“I was waiting for you, blondie. Or that dark-haired hunk who hangs with you.”

Razor snorted but settled at a glare from the chief.

“I’m here now.”

“I’ll spill. But first, I want to know one thing.” Jerome crossed his thick arms over his chest.

“What’s that?” Mason continued to stare him down.

“Is she alright? Tiny L?” His forehead creased. “They wouldn’t tell me anything ’cept that she’d wrecked.”

Mason reached behind him to unknot the tension in his neck. He shook his head as though to clear the red from his vision then plopped into the chair next to Jerome. Tyler felt some of the tension leach from his bones. Lacey heaved a sigh of relief beneath his forearms.

“Yeah, she’ll be okay. They got her with Harmytal. She blacked out and drove off the road but my ‘hunky’ sidekick saved the day. They’re banged up. A concussion and a hell of a lot of bruises sprinkled between them but they’ll make it.”

The DA shuffled as Mason confided in the man he no longer suspected. He picked up his briefcase, flung his overcoat across his arm then made to leave. “Call me when you’ve got someone legitimate, Chief.”

“So here’s what went down.” Jerome drew their attention back to the interrogation room with his deep bass. “I saw the Lacemeister working desk. I wasn’t really surprised to see her back so soon ’cause she’s a fighter. I passed by a few times even though I’m not assigned to that wing this week so I could check on her and maybe cheer her up a few degrees. After midnight, she started fading so I put in an order for that ridiculous imitation latte she digs from the crapeteria. When I came back through I went to grab it from the spot David, the hot cashier, usually stashes my shit. Only it wasn’t there. I figured that was good enough excuse as any to strike up some convo with the stud. He told me some broad already grabbed the drink. I was pissed. You know, I thought she stole Tiny L’s juice. But when he started to make up a fresh one, the cup was sitting on the machine. We had a good laugh over it, like he’d lost his fucking marbles. It happens when you work such suckass hours. Then I snagged the cup and hauled ass upstairs. That’s when I ran into you three in the middle of your little domestic drama.”

Mason cut him off before he exposed the nitty-gritty of their possessive snit in colorful detail they’d never live down. “How did David describe ‘the broad’?”

Jerome scratched his chin as he thought back.

“I remember he said she was cute ’cause it bummed me that he might not be batting for my team after all. You never can tell with some guys.” He winked at Mason, drawing another chuckle from Razor. “After that I didn’t listen too close. Maybe he said she was brunette? Sorry, man, you’d have to ask him.”

“I’ll do that, Jerome.” Mason stuck out his hand. “Thanks for cooperating. And for being a good friend to Lacey. Let me call you cab home.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jerome leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table hard enough to make it creak. “One more thing.”

Mason raised an eyebrow.

“You and your hunky sidekick hurt her and you’ll have to answer to me.”

Mason threw back his head and laughed. Jerome didn’t.

“I promise, hurting her is the last thing on my mind.”

Lacey squirmed from Tyler’s hold as the two men made their way out the interrogation room door. She flung herself at the mountain of a man while the rest of the men studied their shoes. “I knew it wasn’t you.”

“You got that right, Lacemeister.” His diner-plate sized hand patted her back. “Who else is going to dish with me about the fine young specialists roaming the halls of St. Ann’s? Though, I have a feeling you’ll be less interested in the selection of Grade A beef than you once were.”

Mason growled, “Don’t push your luck, Jerome.”

They parted ways at a fork in the labyrinthine corridors