Chasing Storm (13 page)

Excerpt from Chasing Winter (Dan’s Story), coming soon:

Even the chief looks a little apprehensive as he introduces us. “Meagan, this is Dan Winters, from Rosie, your new partner.”

It’s clear this Meagan character is a lot different to the girls from Rosie. She wears tight black pants could well be painted on, a singlet that’s somehow even tighter and a thigh holster that screams Mission Impossible. I have a sneaking suspicion she’s an MMA fighter, a closet wrestler, a spy. Who knows? She doesn’t seem like the type to spend her Sundays with a box of tissues and the latest Nicholas Sparks.

“You done?”

I realise I’ve been staring at her chest. “Oh, no. I wasn’t-”

She holds a finger out. Even the chief jumps back. “Shut the fuck up. All I want to know is, are you going to have my back?”

“Of course,” I nod.

She places her hands on her hips. “Good, because the last dildo they assigned me couldn’t protect a cup of warm piss. Are you following me?”

Just. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What did you just call me?”

The chief cuts between us, clapping his hands together. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it.”

He evaporates, leaving me forced to tail Meagan as she tears off into the thick of the office.

I was in charge of four officers, total, in Rosie. Here there’s more like four-hundred. It feels just like I’m back in that cursed twister again.

There’s a sudden, sharp pain as I question what she’d be doing now. What he’d be doing to her…

Let it go, Dan.

Meagan moves at blinding speed, yelling back instructions to me she no doubt expects me to understand, pointing and gesturing around the room.

She does have a great body.

She stops, turns and, what do you know, catches me eyeing off her ass. “Yeah,” she says, serious as a heart attack, “it’s a nice ass, isn’t it? Spin classes three times a week, Muay Thai twice a week and a hell of a lot of squats. But if you think I’m just here so you can stand around all day and jerk off staring at my rear, I’ve got news for you.”

A tall guys shouts across the room, phone cradled on his shoulder. “Cross!”

I realise he’s referring to Meagan.

“Got one for you, 10-20, downtown.”

“On it,” she shouts back, grabbing my wrist and pulling me hard towards the front doors. “Buckle up, cowboy. The show’s about to begin.”