Dark Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 1) (31 page)

Shit!

“I really hope you’re getting all this,” she said to the camera that was rolling above them. “If they kill us, Greyson, I love you.”

She prayed it didn’t come to that.

Still…

This was Vegas, and they had rogue cops approaching fast. Who knew what was going to go down?

Emma kept her hands on the steering wheel, at ten and two, and Chris kept his on the dash.

They weren’t giving them any reason to shoot them. That would be way too easy. Then the dick commissioner would win.

Screw that.

The only thing Emma was grateful for was that there were media trucks across the street. The second they realized it was her in the vehicle, they were going to begin moving in to start filming.

Emma, for the first time in her life, prayed for a reporter interview.

Yeah, that was how worried she was.

“License and registration, ma’am,” the first cop asked, keeping his shades on and his hand on the butt of his gun.

“What am I being pulled over for?” she asked as she pulled the registration and driver’s license out of the sunshade above her. Thank God her husband had her keep it up there.

If not, they’d likely jump her for reaching for her purse.

“Well?” she asked again, handing it to him with her one hand as the other stayed on the wheel.

There was a shattering sound.

“It looks like you have a busted taillight. That’s a shame, Mrs. Croft. A nice ride like this…it must have cost you a fortune. Oh, well…easy come, easy go.”

Yeah, they were screwed.

These two weren’t playing games. They were getting ready to cause some serious shit.

Chris glanced over at the man, trying to get them to focus on him—not Emma. “That was smooth, douchebag.”

“Oh look here! We have Captain Ford—formerly of the homicide division. That’s quaint. Are you riding dirty with the Vegas mob, Captain? That can’t be good. Maybe you’re just riding her dirty. We all know that you and Greyson Croft are sharing the little misses,” the cop said. “There must be some fun parties up at her place.”

Emma memorized his name.

She was going to make sure he paid if either man crossed the line.

Well, not her, per say.

Greyson
.

Once he watched this recording, he was going to go shit nuts all over the LVPD. There was no doubt in her mind. If he could kill a man, and then ignore when Dimitri killed a detective, breaking this man’s kneecaps wasn’t going to be that big of a stretch for him. This was Commissioner Raye taking a personal shot at him.

Everyone knew in Vegas that Greyson didn’t let anyone mess with his woman.

Bad shit was coming.

Yeah, she actually felt bad for Officer Clint Williams. He was going to be riding a wheelchair for the better part of a year.

Chris didn’t give him the satisfaction of saying jack shit. He wasn’t having an argument with a man who likely didn’t have the IQ to pass a detective exam.

He was crooked, and karma was a bitch.

Another light shattered.

“Oops. Looks like there’s more than one,” Officer Williams stated, sneering at her.

Dead.

Man.

Walking.

That’s all she could think of at that point.

She was grateful the car was Lojacked and the recorder was going. She could see the red light flashing.

“Is that how this is going down?” Chris asked. “A bogus stop ordered by the Commissioner?”

The cop smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Good cops don’t do shit like that.”

“I think I see a gun,” said the other one as he stared into the window. “It’s by her foot. You better pull her out and check.”

“If you touch me, your dash camera is going to catch it,” Emma said. “If you try and do a search on me, without a female officer on the scene, I’m going to own you.”

He didn’t think she was serious.

“Oh, bad news, Mrs. Croft. Our dash camera isn’t working. How shitty is that? You worked for the city. You know how that is. It looks like it’ll be my word against yours.”

Chris glanced over. “If you touch her, I’ll break your fingers, and then I’ll feed them to you.”

“Sorry, we see a gun.”

“That’s clearly my cell phone. It’s got buttons and a screen. Gun my ass.”

“Out of the vehicle, and move really slowly.”

This was worst-case scenario.

Emma knew that once she was out of the vehicle, he was going to try to pull some shady shit.

“Officer Williams, once again, I’m asking for a female deputy to do a personal search on me.”

“Your request is denied. In fact, I can tell you right now that I’m going to enjoy this, and you’re not going to have any way to prove it,” he said, tossing her driver’s license and registration onto the dash.

“You’re making a huge mistake. You don’t want to go down this road. If you do, I’m going to own your badge.”

He laughed and then yanked her out, as his partner pulled Chris out in the same manner.

Neither man seemed to care about the ramifications, and that made it a million times worse.

They were betting they wouldn’t be caught.

These two cops were in for a huge surprise.

Without warning, Emma and Chris were both slammed to the sides of their vehicles, as the men pressed them to the metal and glass.

“You’re screwed, Mrs. Croft. It’s only just begun,” he whispered right before he licked her ear. “Since you like sharing your pussy, I might just have a taste.”

Well, shit.

She wasn’t worried about being arrested or him touching her.

Emma was worried about Greyson.

He was going to kill this man.

Dead.

Chapter Seventeen

To say that he was pissed would be an understatement. Greyson Croft wanted someone’s head on a silver platter. He was going to take the LVPD apart one person at a time. When he was done, he was going to own Commissioner Jeffrey Raye.

From the camera in Emma’s ride, he could see the cop forcing his wife against the side of the Navigator.

He could see his hand in inappropriate places.

He could see…

RED.

Greyson was going to kill him.

“We’ll be there soon. It’s six more miles,” Dimitri offered.

To Greyson it felt like a million miles. He didn’t want some cop feeling up his wife on the Vegas strip while cameras watched. He didn’t want her to have to be humiliated like this.

Emma was off limits.

He would never allow anyone to put their hands on his woman. It made him go dark, dangerous, and lethal.

There would be blood.

If he had anything to say about it, the city would feel his wrath, starting at the top cop.

“I’ll handle him,” Dimitri said.

“Oh, we’ll be handling him. I’m not tolerating this. If Commissioner Raye wants a war with me, he’s got it. I’ll make sure they know who they’re fucking with before all of this is over. I’d go to the chair for Emma. Kicking the shit out of a cop is nothing.”

As they hit the straight away, there was traffic.

“Shit!”

“Natasha is there. Breathe, Greyson. They’re going to be okay. Emma and Chris were cops. They can handle themselves.”

Greyson hoped his friend was right.

No…

He prayed he was.

 
                                  
* * *
  G r e y s o n   C r o f t   * * *

When the other cop started manhandling Chris, she wanted to fight. When he grabbed her ass, giving it a squeeze, she’d had about enough.

Stomping down, her booted heel went to the part of his foot without the steel toe.

He yelped in pain, stepping back. When he went to grab his gun, she kicking him with everything she had in the balls.

His face said it all.

“Fuck you! You don’t put your hands on a lady’s ass unless she tells you it’s okay, and it is most definitely not okay.”

His mouth worked like a fish.

The other cop came around, pointing his gun at Emma. “You just assaulted a cop. You’re not too smart, Mrs. Croft. You’ll going to jail for this one.”

She pointed at her ride.

“See that red blinking light? You’ve been recorded this entire time. Right now, my husband is watching this and on his way here. When he gets here, and you have me in handcuffs, you’re dead. Then when my attorney gets this, and they hear you breaking my lights, and your partner trying to sexually assault me while you beat up a man, also on camera, you’re going to jail.”

He looked at the ride.

Then back at her.

“If you think you can rip the boxes out of the vehicle, stealing the evidence, it’s live feed to our house. Right now, you’re holding a gun on a woman who was trying to keep his partner from violating her!”

The look on his face said it all.

He holstered his gun.

“Who sent you?”

“No one.”

“Bullshit. You talk, you walk. You don’t I’ll be making sure you and Greyson Croft have a little talk. Greyson, if you can hear me, call my phone.”

She waited.

It rang on demand.

The cop looked sick.

“We’re out of here.”

He helped his partner up, and they hustled out of there. Both men knew the truth. They were damn lucky Greyson wasn’t there—and they weren’t sticking around.

As they left, tearing away, she raced around the Navigator to see Chris lying on the ground. He had a lump on his head, and Natasha was there with his head in her lap.

Emma knew they’d caused a scene.

They had to get out of there.

She knew Greyson was on his way.

“Help me wake him and get him into the back. We’ve gotta roll,” she said.

They didn’t need this on the news. Emma knew Greyson saw the whole thing, and the shit was going to hit the fan.

Those cops were dead.

Natasha patted his cheek. “Captain, come on, love. Wake up for me.”

His eyes fluttered open.

“Natasha.”

The way he said it made her heart flip in her chest.

“Yes, big guy. We have to get out of here. Let’s get into the vehicle. Greyson is coming, the media is here, and Emma just booted some cop in the balls. That’s going to be on the news.”

He struggled to sit up.

“Are you okay, Chris?” Emma said, opening the door.

“After he punched me a few times, he hit me in the head with the stick.”

Yeah, they were dead men. If they thought Emma was going to stop her husband…yeah, they were mistaken. For this stunt, she was going to let him bust some skulls.

What had just gone down was so far over the edge that it had to stop. Greyson was going to flip his shit all over the place on this one, and she couldn’t blame him.

After they loaded Chris up, Natasha in the back, he rested his head on her lap. His whole body was killing him.

She ran her hands through his brown hair, murmuring to him. Emma was behind the wheel, and she hoped they didn’t get pulled over for two busted taillights.

Again, her phone rang.

She hit the button on the navigational screen.

Greyson was in a rage.

“Are you both okay?” he asked, after the torrent of profanity stopped.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m bringing Chris home. The one cop kicked the shit out of him.”

“Who was it?”

Emma shrugged, knowing he was watching her. “I didn’t see his badge. The one who was all over me was wearing a badge that said Officer Williams.”

“He’s dead.”

Yeah, Emma didn’t doubt it. She hoped the man was smart enough to have used a fake tag, but she wouldn’t bet on it. This whole shakedown screamed stupidity.

Who went after Emma Croft in Vegas?

Had they not learned their lesson?

“The other said Officer Hershel Stoner,” muttered Chris. “I saw his badge.”

“He’s dead too.”

No one doubted it.

“Let’s discuss this when we get home. Chris likely has a concussion, and I don’t want round two with more cops. I want to get to the house as fast as I can.”

He agreed.

“Were about ten cars behind you. Be safe.”

He hung up.

“Oh, he’s going to lose it.”

Natasha laughed. “I’d be worried about something far worse,” she stated.

“What?” Emma asked, looking in the mirror.

“Dimitri and Greyson are going to lose it. He considers you his sister. He wouldn’t let any man touch us like that. He’s certainly not going to let anyone manhandle you like that. Together, they are going to break every bone in those two cops’ bodies.”

Shit!

This was a bad start to this whole mess.

She had to hope she could tame the savage Croft beast before he went over the deep end.

 
         
* * *
  G r e y s o n   C r o f t   * * *

Terrace Glen

When they got there, the family was waiting outside. Steele was standing there with Dante. Obviously, they’d all seen the live feed that was going into the house.

Great.

More angry men.

Even Curtis looked like he was ready to shoot someone, and he was generally the calmest of the group.

And Dante?

Hell!

He’d nearly shot her over coffee when they first met. She didn’t doubt he was going to be riding shotgun on those two cops’ funerals.

Great.

When she pulled up and got out, Steele rushed to the back door and Dante pulled it open.

“I’ll check him out,” he offered.

Natasha helped him sit.

Chris looked gray.

“He’s not looking so good,” Dante offered. “He took a few too many shots to his head.”

He was clammy, cold, and definitely had a concussion. “He’s had better days,” Steele said, lifting his eyelids to shine a pen light into them.

Chris’s head was pounding. He wanted the world to stop spinning.

“How many of us do you see?” Steele asked.

“There are four of you—two Dantes and two Steeles.”

Well, at least he could remember their names.

It was a start.

“You took a hit to that skull of yours.” He ran his fingers over it. There didn’t feel to be any major damage.

Then he pulled off his shirt.

Natasha moved closer, taking his hand.

“Your ribs are bruised already.”

“That was Dimitri yesterday. He punched me in the chest where I was shot.”

That alarmed Emma.

“Is he going to be okay? He just had surgery a few months ago.”

Steele dug into a medical bag.

When he pulled out a stethoscope, he listened.

“He’s fine. He should go to the hospital.”

“No freaking way,” Chris said. “They’ll kill me in my sleep there. I told you I was marked. This was only the beginning. If I leave here, you might as well order my casket and get ready for some Irish funeral music.”

Emma had no choice.

There was no way she was letting that happen.

She crouched down to look him in the eyes. “Are you well enough to stay here?” she asked.

“I need some pain meds and a bed.”

She took his face in her hands. “Want to make out?”

“Hell yeah!”

She laughed. “He’s going to be fine. He stays here, Steele. If he’s thinking about the ladies, he’s not going to die.”

He leaned against Natasha, praying she’d hold him up. The whole great outdoors was still spinning. At any second, he was going to toss his cookies.”

Now Emma had another problem.

“Steele, can you watch over him tonight? I know you were going to go to the party, but he needs someone to watch him.”

“I’ll stay,” Natasha offered.

“He needs a doctor. You’re going to be here making sure no one comes at him at Terrace Glen.”

Steele didn’t mind. “I’m not feeling so hot anyway, Em. I’ll hang out. I’d rather stay,” Steele offered. “I don’t have my sea legs yet.”

That was settled.

“I’ll stay and play babysitter,” Dante offered. “You never know what they’ll try next.”

Emma agreed.

“I won’t let them hurt you, Captain,” Natasha offered, picking up his shirt from the ground. Carefully, she helped him back into it.

Then they heard the gates.

“Oh, here comes the nuclear explosion. Dante, get them inside, Paris, we’ll be right in, and Tessa, I need you and Curtis to help me control the blow up.”

They didn’t know if that was possible.

No one stopped Greyson Croft. He was a force to be reckoned with on a good day.

Today?

Yeah, the Devil himself couldn’t stop him.

As Dimitri’s vehicle came to a stop, Greyson was out and charging her way. The second he saw Emma, he grabbed her and wrapped his arms around his wife.

“Honey, I was so worried about you.”

She let him hold her.

This was better than an explosion any day.

“I was too, Grey. We’re fine. They did a number to my ride. I liked this one too. I’d just worn the seat the right way.”

He stared down at her.

“He’s dead for touching my wife.”

“Grey, I’m good. There are no marks on me. This is exactly what they want. They’re provoking you.”

“I saw him, Emma. I heard what he said to you. He was trying to violate what was mine.”

She was there.

Emma was aware.

While she hated every damn second of it, she had to down play it. For her husband’s sanity, and his male ego, she couldn’t let the tears come.