Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

“How about you introduce us?” Wyatt asked him, though it didn’t sound much like a question.

I swung open the wooden barn door, not at all surprised when the second I let go, it tipped and fell over all the way to the ground, a puff of dirt hitting my boots. We stepped inside, all twenty heads or so swiveling our way. The country music kept blaring from a large speaker in the loft, but otherwise, everything else went silent and still.

“Howdy,” Wyatt started, taking his good cop role seriously. He sounded downright jovial, like he was here to take part in the festivities.

“Who’s Jimmy?” I barked, looking each guy in the eye, until one stepped forward.

He had on overalls made the same year as this barn. Even with some nervous straightening of his dirty blond hair, the guy looked a little worse for wear.

“I’m Jimmy. Can I help you, officers?”

“We had some complaints about loud noises. I’m assuming the neighbors didn’t like the fireworks show. As long as you shut that down, I’m sure we can just be on our way real quick.”

The guy Wyatt had by the arm made a little noise in the back of his throat. He stiffened when Jimmy looked over at him. Jimmy kept his mean gaze on the guy even as he replied to me. “I can guarantee we’ll shut that down. Thanks for stopping by.”

I nodded, surveying the group. Cards, beer cans on every surface, cigarettes, and open food containers, but not one thing out in the open looked illegal. Well, damn. I’d hoped to have a little fun tonight to take my mind off Wyatt and his incessant teasing. Backing out, I gestured for Wyatt to follow. I made it to the doorway of the barn, resigned to a boring night of patrolling when the guy closest to me took a drink of his beer and then grabbed my ass with a good ol’ boy chuckle.

Motherfucker.

I didn’t have to think it through. Instincts kicked in and I spun around with my fist already cocked and flying directly toward the guy’s nose. It connected in the next second and my gut rejoiced when I both felt and heard a crunch that could only be one thing. Noise erupted behind me, but all I could focus on was the douchebro holding his bleeding nose, while brandishing a knife. He should have just kept the beer in his hand, because now he was talking about assaulting an officer, traveling up a felony notch or two. He swiped, and I jumped back, feeling the wind, but no pain. The smile that lit my face felt a little crazy. I loved a good fight, and it had been too long since I’d gotten into one.

“Stand back!” Wyatt barked just inside the barn. He’d drawn his gun, but kept it pointed at the ground. The rest of the partiers had gotten to their feet, but stayed back, smart enough not to get involved in the altercation.

The guy circled to the left and I did as well, keeping him in my sights. He lunged again, quick on his feet, but not quick enough. The hand with the blade came right for my chest. I leaned left and grabbed his wrist with both hands, using his momentum to keep him tumbling forward. He went down to the ground, and I kept a firm grip on his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. A little tension right there where I’d practiced over and over for years, and he dropped the knife with a wail of pain. I kicked the knife out the door of the barn and got him in cuffs.

Another cruiser pulled up just as I got the knife-wielding bumpkin in the back of my cruiser. Wyatt had stayed behind in the barn to calm the rest of his friends. They’d quickly turned on him and assured Wyatt they would never come at an officer like that.

I slammed the door shut and went back in the barn to let Wyatt know I was ready to go. He stood there with his feet wide and his arms crossed over his impressive chest. Maybe it was the leftover adrenaline, but I wished fervently for him to stand that way while he was looking at me. Naked.

“When she’s back, I expect apologies. Profuse apologies,” he growled. The boys all nodded, wide-eyed and sober.

“Let’s go, Smith,” I said at the doorway, wanting to get back to the station and drop my guy off so I still had time to do the paperwork before our shift was over.

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” Jimmy said first, stumbling over his words as he looked at me. “W-we had no idea he had a knife.”

“Yeah, we never would have invited him tonight if we knew,” another guy piped up.

“We’re real sorry he grabbed your a—” At the glare and growl from Wyatt, another guy quickly shut up and tried again. “Well, we’re sorry he tried to touch you.”

I huffed out a laugh. “We’re good, guys.”

The group of them looked over at Wyatt, who scanned my face and my entire person before giving a small nod. They all let out a collective sigh and had a seat.

I spun around, wondering just what the hell Wyatt had said to those guys to get them to apologize like their balls were in a vise. At the crunch of Wyatt’s boots behind me, I asked, “What happened to being the good cop?”

We reached my cruiser before he answered me. “I promised to be the good cop when we’re together. You left. I decided they needed some bad cop.” He shrugged and got in the car, shutting the door before I could reply.

The whole way to the prison to drop our guy off, I contemplated what I was feeling. I felt off-balance, which was something I didn’t care for. I should have been mad Wyatt had broken protocol and been the bad guy. But he’d had