Free Born Wild by Julie Ann Walker Page B

referred to as Dale Fuckwad, jumped behind a lamp post.
    Uh, can you say Creepy McCreepster, boys and girls? And, just like that, his mission went from a simple tail and observe to a full-on apprehend and secure. Because that sick sonofabitch was obviously going to try to off another innocent woman.
    Instincts on high alert, Bill glanced across the street to find Mac’s eyes turned in his direction. He nodded— yeah, I’m seeing what you’re seeing— as a hard punch of adrenaline blasted through his veins, increasing his heart rate from a steady lub, dub into a fast-paced thumpety, thumpety, thumpety. The world around him snapped into crystalline focus, and the night was no longer so dark; the sounds of the city around him—a distant siren, a dog barking, and the bass of a nearby car stereo—no longer so muffled.
    Motioning with his hand, he silently indicated Mac should take a position farther up the street. And once his partner was in place, Bill moved in for the kill. Or, in this case, the capture.
    His combat boots made no noise as he hurriedly advanced to the next corner, keeping low and sticking to the shadows, blending into his surroundings like a specter. Then, just as he reached to unsecure his weapon, the young woman—a nurse?—skipped down the stairs of her apartment building and started off toward the bus stop on the next block.
    Dale Fuckwad waited a beat before following the woman, and Bill could almost feel the asshole’s neck in his hands as he silently stalked up behind the scumbag.
    This man. This… vile , despicable man was responsible for nearly getting Eve killed not once, but three times.
    And we’re gonna make the sonofabitch pay , that little voice whispered gleefully. Now Bill was more than happy to have the bugger banging around inside his head, because they were finally working in complete harmony. Yessir, he was going to do it. He was going to catch Eve’s would-be murderer in less than seven hours and, hell yeah , it was times like this he had the overwhelming desire to go all ape-man and beat his chest while yelling out victory.
    Black Knights Inc. to the rescue! Hoo-ah!
    Of course, it was an internal celebration because when the young nurse sat down on the bench at the bus stop, Fuckwad once more darted behind a light post and Bill saw his opportunity. He leapt forward the last foot, slapping a hand over Dale’s mouth while simultaneously shoving the scary end of his pistol into the dude’s squishy kidney with just enough force to make any future possibility of a transplant questionable.
    â€œDon’t move, asshole,” he breathed in the man’s ear, ignoring the foul smell of unwashed armpits and greasy pepperoni pizza.
    Dale instinctively struggled in his grip. That is until Mac materialized out of the darkness like the Grim Reaper himself. Then Dale went limp in Bill’s arms, and Bill wondered if the bastard had fainted. But soon, a pathetic whimper assured him the chubby psycho was still with them, and he sent a small prayer of thanks heavenward— thank you, sweet baby Jesus —because he couldn’t quite envision he and Mac carting the tubby sonofabitch back the four and a half blocks to the dude’s townhouse wherein the interrogation could commence.
    â€œNow, Dale,” the man whimpered at the sound of his name, but Bill ignored it as he hauled the guy back to his feet, forcing him to support his own substantial weight, “my partner and I have a few questions for you. And we want to ask them in private.” Dale shook his head vigorously, so Bill oh-so-subtly—okay, it wasn’t subtle at all—reminded the guy of the Glock shoved into his back. Again a pitiful whimper slipped between the fingers he held over Dale’s mouth. Bill barely resisted rolling his eyes. “And if you come with us willingly, if you don’t put up a fight, I can promise you, you won’t get hurt.