Chapter~25~Tracking the tracks.

Harley~

My head is spinning, and my heart feels like it is pounding right out of my chest, but it's not elephant brain syndrome this time. The short drive from the gas station to the police station wasn't sufficient for me to get a grip on what Nick's kisses do to me or the fact that Kyle had reached out to me.

My brother is yet another thing my father took from me. It had taken everything I had and the goddess's power not to take my brother's call. Kyle was my best friend; my childhood memories revolved around him doing his best to shield me from Ian's wrath, even though he was two years younger than I was.

Nick pulls the car to a stop in the Culver City station parking lot, which shares the space with the adjoining courthouse, and brushes his perfect lips across mine, making me dizzy all over again.

"You're teasing me, wolfman."

"I am not teasing; it implies that you don't get what is being offered, and I am all yours, Amante."

He gave me an 'I know what I am doing' grin before kissing my nose, unbuckling his seat belt, getting out of the car, and making his way around to my side.

Rae isn't sharing my euphoria. 'Can you focus on something other than our mate's lips?! This is a fine mess we are in, isn't it?! What are you going to do about Kyle Harley?'

'I don't know, Rae, I just need a minute to think.'

Thinking is suddenly hard to do as I place my hand in Nick's and he rubs his hand up my wrist, sending chills down my spine. He escorts me from the car and kisses my nose. The bright afternoon sun hits my eyes as he moves away, sending a wave of unease from my head to my feet. My shades are off my head and covering my eyes in a second.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I chanced a look around; it would seem that we had gained some attention from the busy parking lot. Nick shouldn't be affectionate towards me in public, but at the moment, I couldn't focus on the display enough to scold him.

It hit home for me that anyone around us could be Ian's bounty hunter. Kyle's call confirmed that my father had indeed found me and was trying to warn me. My gut is telling me Nick knew who had called, though I can't imagine how. I'm 100% certain that he saw the screen, yet he didn't question why a man was calling my phone.

Rae barged her way into my thoughts again. 'Will you listen to me now?! I told you we needed to leave LA. I told you that Nick would eventually find out about us. He works for the freaking FBI, for crying out loud! You need to call Kyle and come clean with Nick before we get in any deeper.'

'I will tell Nick in my time and in my way. Thank you very much. I'm also planning to call Kyle back. Now shut it, Rae!'

Adrenaline surges through, setting my nerves tingling, and for the first time, I see a future for myself that doesn't include running. Kyle's call and Nick's agreement to go with me were the last pieces of the puzzle. Now, I'm more determined than ever to end this chapter of my life. With my wolfman by my side, I tossed my hair over my shoulder and strutted across the asphalt, newfound badass and oddly erotic attitude in charge.

Walking into Culver County does not differ from walking into any other station in any other town. I'm not sure who's in charge of interior decoration for the government, but it's a universal concept designed not for comfort. The same commercial-grade carpet covers the floor. Culver County has interlinked double Cs printed on theirs; the matching blue-and-gold drapes hang over the double-pane bulletproof windows, letting you know there's no escape.

Police stations are the number one killer of verdure, dying houseplants of every variety, all because of neglect from overworked owners lining the half-walls of the cubiculae offices behind the desk. Mundane and bright white walls, covered with portraits of past chiefs and commissioners, are the cherry on top.

Nick and I exchange a glance. I wish I knew what he was thinking. We cross through the lobby toward the intake desk, where we present our badges.

"Detective Gibson, Agent Reins." I point at myself, then Nick. "Your captain is expecting us."

The intake deputy calls another officer, who leads Nick and me past the cubicles and down a hallway to a walk-in closet-sized captain's office. It's just my luck they'd be doing renovations. Captain Kenneth Sauls was waiting for us. He had to push the makeshift folding-table desk forward as he rose from his chair. He gestured for us to take a seat in front.

Nick doesn't fit; he has to sit sideways in the chair with his legs contorted. I look away so as not to laugh. A moment later, two more detectives enter the crowded space. The last one closed the door behind him, and it's not so funny anymore, though I know it is uncomfortable. Nick leans into me and rests his arm on the back of my chair.

"Detective Stone, Detective Rodriguez, this is Detective Gibson and Special Agent Reins." Captain Sauls made our introductions before seating himself.

The Culver Detectives pack themselves into the already crowded sardine can, and they sit in the folding chairs to my right. The surrounding air is going stagnant fast. I close my eyes as fear fills me, making my mind run with thoughts of being trapped somewhere dark and deep. Just breathe, Harley, you're ok, I repeat to myself; however, when I opened my mouth, I squeaked instead of speaking, which got Nick's attention.

"Have you made an ID of your victim?" I asked Sauls.