“Thank you, sir.” She rested her hand in mine just as a creeping sensation wound down my spine from my neck to the Glock secured at my back.

Something’s wrong. I faced away from her, my gaze darting back and forth between the row of cars opposite us.

The low hum of idling engines filled my ears, and the faintest sound of footsteps grew louder. No one was currently in sight. We were alone amongst the parked cars, but my gut was never wrong about impending threats.

The dim, flickering lights overhead threw shadows across the concrete as two men stepped into view.

“Get in the car with your mother,” I ordered, shifting just enough to block them from view.

The taller of the two men smirked, stepping forward. His hand drifted close to his hip, testing me. “Easy there,” he said. “Going for my badge, not a weapon.”

I didn’t buy it. Nor did I move or blink.

He flashed an NYPD badge. Real or not, I wasn’t about to lower my guard.

“What do you want?” I asked them.

“The boy. He was at the scene of a crime. Two dead bodies. We need a word with him at the station.”

Bullshit. Izzy told me neither the FBI nor the NYPD were ever alerted about what happened at the rave. These two were either crooked or not cops at all.

Juliette gave me a heart attack by coming around to my side. “Officer, I’m sorry, but my son was⁠—”

“Is not going anywhere with you,” I finished for her, my voice dropping as sharp as a blade. “You touch him, you lose your hands. Am I clear?”

“You threatening a cop?” the second officer asked, a Bostonian accent slipping through.

The one with the badge had the balls to try and test the size of mine. “We’re taking the kid out of here.”

“The fuck you are,” I growled out as he pocketed his badge.

He moved in quickly after that, leading with a right hook. Always the damn right.

I dodged, countered with an uppercut to his chin, then swept his legs out. He hit the pavement with a loud thud.

“Mom, look out!”

I spun around at Colin’s warning, discovering a weapon being pointed Juliette’s way. I yanked her behind me, drew, and fired. Two shots. Center mass.

The man crumpled, and I returned to problem number two, discovering Colin had already gotten to him first.

Colin moved fast. A jab, a brutal right elbow, and a knee to the ribs.

The guy dropped to all fours, gasping for air.

At the sight of a glint of metal at the man’s ankle, I shouted, “Colin, get back!” I fired off three shots, putting him down for good.

Screams echoed throughout the garage. Time was up.

Juliette and Colin were still standing. Shaken up, but alive.