World's Worst Boyfriend: A Romantic Comedy Adventure (Fake It Book 3) by Carina Taylor (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

“I think that means I’m not a dirty cop,” I muttered, leaning a shoulder against the wall where I could keep an eye on all windows and both doors.

“—I realized that she didn’t know. You didn’t tell her what your real job was. She’s a horrible liar. It doesn’t come naturally to her like it does to me.”

“Thank heavens for that.”

“Which brings me to another point. The night at the bar when your girlfriend and her friend showed up. That was when I began to suspect. You had another man on the inside. And then there was the warehouse, and shots fired, that baseball cap on the ground, the extra security cameras you installed but I realized they were off count for the number of feeds I had.”

He was full on rambling now…

“And I had to know. I went to your girlfriend’s house that night. I knew then.”

“But you stayed.”

He shook his head. “I hadn’t planned on staying. Not really. I’d packed my go bag, made arrangements for a pickup, and even paid Esme enough to hopefully take care of her immigration issues. Gah, I’m going to miss that woman.”

Was that moisture in his eyes? I’d never seen Sullivan undone like this. But I supposed when you were facing a future in prison it was all right to feel a little emotional.

“When Saidy showed up, I knew she was there to protect you. You must have finally told her. How mad was she?”

I debated about how to answer but figured silence was best at the moment. He seemed completely capable of carrying on the conversation by himself.

He ran a finger around the rim of his glass and sighed. “I’ve always loved this room. Always made me feel like I’d stepped back in time. That nothing could touch me here. I thought it would be a fitting place to end this charade.”

“You’re not running, and you’re not fighting?” I asked as I hit my pager again. West would know I’d found him here.

“No. There’s always more than two options, as someone recently reminded me,” he said with a strange little smile.

“Will you cooperate?”

“For now.” He pointed to me. “Call them in. We’d better get this over with before I change my mind.”

I pulled my personal phone from my pocket, planning on calling the chief.

West called to me from the end of the hall. I slipped my phone back into my pocket. “Down here!” I called.

He burst into the room and looked between the two of us in surprise. “Fletcher. You continue to surprise me,” West said.

He slipped a pair of cuffs from his waistband. Tonight he was dressed like a cop. Which came in handy because it meant he didn’t have to hide everything under his pants or shirt.

“Backup’s on the way. They are finishing up in the warehouse,” he said as he stepped farther into the room.

Sullivan still looked unhurried.

My phone began to ring. With West there, I felt comfortable pulling it out and looking at it. It was Saidy calling. I silenced the call—now was not a good time to talk. I’d unfortunately spoken too soon when I texted her. She was probably dying to hear what had happened. I glanced at the text on the screen.

Saidy: Are you okay?

It was a text she’d sent thirty minutes ago.

The phone chimed loudly again. I hit the silent button. I might be earning that trophy after all, but I couldn’t risk any distractions at the moment.

I slipped it in my pocket.

“Somewhere you need to be?” Sullivan asked with an eyeroll.

“Shut up and let’s get this over with,” I said as I walked across the room with West.

Sullivan stood and turned around and offered us his hands behind his back. West did the honors.

My phone chimed again. I ignored it as West finished cuffing Sullivan. “I’ll head out front and open the gates,” West announced.

He left the room, leaving Sullivan staring out the window.

Keeping a close eye on him, I stepped back and unlocked my phone to read the messages.

Saidy: I need to know that you’re alive. I’m starting to plan your funeral. Would you prefer lilies or carnations?

Saidy: I can’t believe I just texted you that. I seriously am worried about you. Dying is no joking matter right now.

I put the phone back in my pocket.

“Saidy?”

I glanced sharply at Sullivan, who was smirking at me over his shoulder. “I don’t know how—”

He cut me off. “You always smile when you talk about her or to her. So I imagine that was her.”

“She’s got great timing.”

Sullivan glanced over my shoulder as West walked into the room. “Ah, everyone else must be here.”

West stared at him but didn’t say a word. Then he turned to me. “He’s the last.”

“Finally,” I muttered. My phone began to vibrate. Buzzing. And buzzing. And buzzing.

“Are you going to answer that?” Sullivan asked with a chuckle.

“Not yet.”

“I’ll stay here while you answer that. She’s earned it.” West nodded toward my personal phone in my hand. “Let her know your safe. I’ll give you sixty seconds.”

He was right. She’d been amazing. I hit accept and brought the phone up to my ear as I walked to the window. “Hey there.”

“Oh, thank the Lord! I thought I was going to have to come down there myself.”

I chuckled, then stopped. “Are you in the car?”

“Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The obvious sounds of traffic sounded through the phone. The sound of a siren. She was close.

“You were on your way down here, weren’t you?”

“Fletcher, you had me worried! I was sure something awful had happened to you! I’ve worn a hole in my brand-new rug. You don’t even want to know how much chamomile tea I’ve had to drink.”

My cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling I was doing.

“At least somebody’s happy,” I heard Sullivan call from across the room.

“I’m okay, baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t answer. It ended up being a longer night than I thought.”

“You’re okay? Are you hurt? Is your butt still