“Or maybe you did it,” Liam accused.
Becker snorted. “Right. I tipped off the cops and told them we’d be hitting the jewelry store so I could get arrested too. That’s brilliant.”
Liam opened his mouth to say something, but Kos cut him off.
“We’re done here.”
This time, Liam left without a fuss, but not before giving Becker and Jayna a look that could have melted the flesh from their bones. Becker couldn’t give a damn what the werewolf thought of him, but if that bastard tried to take out his anger on Jayna, Becker would rip off his head and shove it up his ass.
Becker held his hand out toward the door Liam had left open, indicating Jayna should go ahead of him. He gave the Albanians a nod, then followed, closing the door behind them.
Liam was nowhere in sight, but there was an omega and a handful of Albanians hanging around the hallway, so he and Jayna didn’t speak until they were in her apartment.
“So, I’m guessing we have a plan B now?” she asked softy.
Becker grinned, glad Jayna had picked up on the seeds he’d planted in Frasheri’s office. “Yup. I got the idea when I saw that omega flash the platinum medallion. In between texting Cooper with every tip we can get our hands on, we’re going to start doing everything we can to convince Frasheri and Kos that the omegas are a liability—and vice versa. With a little nudging from us, the Albanians and omegas should be at each other’s throats in no time.”
“And then we can just walk out when the shooting starts.” Jayna smiled up at him. “You’re pretty devious,” she said, then leaned in and put her mouth right next to his ear. “For a cop.”
Her whisper was a warm breeze across his skin. With her sweet mouth millimeters from his ear and her intoxicating scent enveloping him—almost causing him to shift—the urge to turn his head and kiss her was damn near impossible to resist. It took every ounce of strength Becker had, but he forced himself to step back.
Not because he didn’t trust himself, but because he didn’t want to rush her into anything. But before he left, he thought he caught a flash of green in her eyes as she gave him a smile. He was pretty sure that sudden flare of iridescent color had nothing to do with the soft lighting in the apartment and everything to do with her body’s response to him.
Chapter 8
Jayna leaned over Eric’s bare, muscular chest, trying not to be sick as she dug a bullet out. It was hard—there was blood everywhere. She’d never done anything like this in her life, and she never wanted to do it again. But when she’d walked into Eric’s apartment to find him sitting on the floor with his back to the bed, about to root around in his own chest with a flipping pair of needle-nose pliers while Megan held up a small mirror for him, she knew she had to do something. Thank goodness the blood was covering his SWAT tattoo or she’d have to worry about explaining that too.
The mere thought that Eric might actually die freaked her out so much that her canines and claws extended all on their own and she had to pull away for a second to get them to retract. She purposely hadn’t let herself think about what was developing between her and Eric. She knew she liked him. She just hadn’t realized how much. And now here he was, bleeding out all over the floor. This couldn’t be happening.
Eric took her shaking hand in his big one. “Jayna, look at me.” She did. “Calm down¸ okay? I’m not going to die. I just need you to get the bullet out. Once you do, the bleeding will stop and my body will start to heal. I promise. Just relax, and everything will be fine.”
Jayna didn’t know how that could be possible—he was bleeding so much—but the complete and total conviction in his words made her believe him. She nodded and took a deep breath, letting Eric guide her hand as she slipped the tip of the pliers into the tear in his pec again.
“What the heck happened out there?” she asked, more to distract herself than because she really wanted to know.
“He got shot protecting me,” Megan said softly.
That didn’t surprise Jayna.
“It was supposed to be easy,” Megan added, referring to the recon mission she, Chris, and Eric had gone out on after lunch. “We were just supposed to slip into the union Pacific secure intermodal terminal and figure out where they park their trucks with all the high-value items. But a security guard saw us and instead of acting cool, the Albanians and omegas started shooting at everything in sight—including each other—and Chris and I ended up getting stuck in the crossfire. I don’t understand what’s gotten into them. They should have been trying to get away from the security guards, not trying to kill each other.”