Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1) by A Wallace Page B

sideways and stretched for her glass. “It’s more than that.”
    Murphy snatched the glass and motioned for Tara. “What is it then?”
    “You wouldn’t understand.”
    “Try me?”
    “A little girl is dead. More will die.” The table shook with each swing of her leg. Her eyes focused on the table. “I must stop him.”
    “Why did you involve me?”
    “I convinced myself I could trust you,” she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, “but you’re like all the rest. All’s good until it’s necessary to dirty your hands. In a blink, you’re the epitome of the perfect cop.”
    “That isn’t true. You can trust me.”
    “About as much as the chicks you date do.”
    “Keep the personal life out of this.”
    Charley’s condescending laugh pitched into the air. “I bet you want to keep that quiet and snug.”
    Heat migrated up his neck. Murphy tugged on his collar. No way she knows. “Answer me this. Why is this club important?”
    “I didn’t plan this, but it’s the only way. I don’t know if it will work until I request a copy of the blueprints. They may be outdated.” She buried her face into her hands.
    “I’m taking you home.” He wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “Now, let’s go. You’ve had enough.”
    “Leave, Murphy.”
    “My decision.” He clenched her elbow to pull her from the stool.
    Charley wrestled her arm from his grasp, picked up the glass, and licked out the last available drop of bourbon. ”Goodbye, Murphy. I’ll see you when I need another bad day.” She stood, turned, and staggered away from him as she dug into her pocket. The toe of her boot clipped the back of her heel. “Oww.” She stumbled.
    He inched up behind her and snatched the keys dangling from her fingers. She whisked around, swinging. “Give me those.”
    Murphy held them in the air. “Not happening, sweet cheeks.”
    She continued to jump for the keys, bumping into the adjacent table. He swung his arm back, crammed them deep into the right pocket of his jeans, and chuckled. “C’mon, try it.”
    “Is that a dare?” She reached for his pocket.
    He grabbed her hand, picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder headfirst.
    Charley kicked and pounded his back with her fists. “Let me down, you cretin.”
    He smacked her on the butt. “You gotta nice, firm ass, Agent Faraday.” He chuckled.
    “Dammit, Murphy, put me down,” she demanded.
    Entertained by Murphy’s persistence many patrons whooped and hollered as he carried her out of the pub. One yelled, “Been there, done that.”
    Out the door, on their way to his truck, she kicked and punched his lower back with her fists. With each struggle, he smacked her ass.
    “Give it up, Faraday. You’re making a scene.”
    “I’m making a scene? Arrgghh.” The more her feet flailed, the more he laughed. She grabbed his waistband trying to wedge his jeans. Unsuccessful, she rammed her hands into his pants to try the same with his briefs. Surprised, she ripped her hand away and shrieked.
    “Find something you like?” He smirked.
    “Commando? What is wrong with you?”
    “I need the space.” He chuckled. Nearing the truck, he dug for his keys and used the fob to unlock the doors. After opening the passenger side, he slid her into the seat, and secured her with the safety belt through flailing limbs.
    “Give me my keys.”
    He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Stop.”
    Charley raised her knees attempting to force him away. With a single grasp of her ankles, he planted her feet onto the floor. Murphy parked his hip on the edge of the seat, facing her. He lashed his finger at her. “I’m not telling you again.” Murphy tweaked her nose.
    She drew back her fist and punched him in the shoulder. “This is kidnapping.”
    He swiped his shoulder with his fingers. “Did you see that gnat?”
    She positioned the ball of her hand to punch him in the nose. “Dammit, Murphy.”
    He grabbed her wrists and