Prohibited (Tulsa City Sinners #1)

35. Roberts

Chapter thirty-five

Roberts

It had to be some kind of trick. It was some kind of trick. She hadn’t just shown up on his doorstep. He wasn’t that lucky. He’d never been that lucky.

Roberts ducked into the washroom and scrubbed his hands with soap, blotted at the speckles of blood that had ended up on his face. One of his hands was smarting like a son of a bitch, the knuckle split and swollen.

While he stared at himself in the mirror, a sullen feeling was dawning on him.

What the fuck was she doing here?

He was chopping off this scumbag’s fingers to get answers out of him about where she could possibly be, and she just waltzed right into the police station asking for him?

Was it a set up?

None of it made sense.

Well.

One thing for sure, he was going to get answers out of her .

Roberts smoothed his hair back with hands that were still shaking from the rush of spilling another man’s blood. He didn’t recognize the face in the mirror, the hard angles and the dead eyes of the man looking back at him. Something shifted ever so slightly in the pit of his stomach.

Maybe there was something wrong with him.

Really wrong with him.

If there was, he didn’t care much right now.

He smoothed his jacket and adjusted his cuffs, mind pivoting to Evie.

On his way to his office he was going to call Stanley and–

No.

No, he wasn’t going to do that.

He paused, staring at the tiny hexagonal black and white tiles on the floor of the washroom.

There was a reason he hadn’t called him when they brought the scumbags in and there was a reason he wasn’t going to call him now–he was actually trying to help Evie. And with the way Walter had been flying off of the handle, calling him up and handing her straight over to him didn’t seem like the wisest course of action.

Evie was waiting for him, a fact that sent a surge of blood to his cock. How that woman could have such an effect on him after all this time was infuriating but irrefutable.

Roberts smoothed his hair again and opened the washroom door. He hurried through the corridors, dodging conversations so as not to delay.

The door was ajar when he reached it.

He paused in the corridor and took in a deep breath, letting it slowly out through his nose.

Then, he opened the door.

A slim woman with very short black hair stood with her back to him, examining the plaques on the wall. Roberts paused, blinking at the woman.

That couldn’t be–

Slowly, she turned until she was facing him.

Evelyn Colter smiled at him, as dazzlingly beautiful as ever.

“Good evening, Lieutenant,” she said in her low, rich voice.