Page 3 of Exhale (Out for Justice #8)

O wen’s face hit the dirt, and his hands planted, pushing himself up.

The police officers who’d shoved him down didn’t give a shit about the Pegasus emblem that blazed on the front of his tactical vest.

Detective Cane Reed, the lead detective who worked at the Lancaster, California, station, stood by not doing a damned thing.

In fact, it had been Reed who had given the order to detain him.

Owen could have easily fucked them all up. He was a walking weapon with his military background. Plus, the job he did for Pegasus kept him in top physical shape.

But he refrained, just barely.

Reed had his hand on the butt of the nine-millimeter tucked into a holster at his waist, like he was some cowboy from back in the day and this was a Doc Holiday movie.

I’ll be your fucking Huckleberry, Owen thought, and twisted when one of the cops tried to put a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

Instead, Owen turned the tables, and the cop found himself handcuffed instead.

“You fuck!” The outraged officer glared and held out his hands for his buddy to unlock the cuffs.

Owen rolled to his feet and brushed off the dirt from his shirt and jeans. He didn’t bother rubbing at his face because there wasn’t only dirt there. Scrapes along his cheek stung, so he knew the gravel had cut him.

They surrounded him, he couldn’t find any protection to put at his back, but he wasn’t too concerned.

They should be more concerned. He hadn’t lost his temper…yet.

If Reed valued his job, then the man wouldn’t push him too much. Not that Owen had any pull in this area, but he sure knew a fuck ton of people who did. One of them being the former Secretary of Defense, not to mention his big brother and boss, Cohen “Ace” Gray.

“If you want to handcuff someone, get a fucking room,” Owen told the cop with a derisive curl to his lip.

That earned him a baton to the back of his upper right shoulder. At the blow, he spun and gripped the black stick at one end. The cop holding it glared and yanked, but Owen wasn’t budging.

Movement sounded behind him, and Owen turned, pulled the cop holding the stick, and shoved him into his place.

The next blow cracked onto the side of the cop’s shoulder.

“Ow! God damn it, Baxter, you fuck!” The cop released the black stick and cupped his hands on his shoulder, holding tight.

Armed with a weapon, Owen held it in his hands. They’d earlier taken his gun and the knife he’d strapped to his ankle.

The commotion was drawing quite a crowd in the quiet suburban area. Neighbors had at first darted glances between the gap in curtains, watching as the cops busted the occupants of the nice-looking house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Now, though, they had grown brave and lined the streets.

“That’s police brutality,” one concerned citizen shouted.

“I’m filming this for my YouTube channel,” another one said, with his phone recording.

The YouTuber wasn’t the only one holding a cell phone.

Great, Owen grimaced, that was all he needed…to be on tonight’s news. He would bet money that several of them were recording live already.

He pulled his own cell phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen to the text message he’d sent some twenty-ish minutes ago.

His brother had responded.

Stay put, we are on the way.

Owen sighed and shoved his phone away. If he was not mistaken, his brother should be there any minute.

He hefted the baton, and the cops closest to him pulled their weapons.

Damn it, he wouldn’t even be in this predicament if not for Ace. But his brother had insisted on putting him in charge of the Araya case.

So technically, this was all Ace’s fault.

Tim Araya had been charged in connection with a sexual assault case of two minors. The guy had gotten off on a technicality. Apparently, the FBI had mishandled evidence, which in turn had allowed Araya to walk.

And while the asshole had walked out of the courthouse with a smug smile, the man had also landed on the radar of the former Secretary of Defense.

“Watch him and when he fucks up, take him down,” Dave had ordered.

When the former SecDef made a statement like that, everyone who reported to him paid attention.

So, when Ace had received a tip that Araya was holed up in a sleepy Lancaster neighborhood, his brother had sent him out here to check it out.

Imagine his surprise when Araya, high as a fucking kite, had answered the door in his underwear, holding the hand of a girl who couldn’t have been more than twelve, if that.

Owen had seen red.

So, was it any wonder he had punched the guy in the head a few too many times?

Was he to blame when he had dragged the fucker out of his own house in his underwear and tossed him like a fucking doll to the pavement? And from there, beat the living daylights out of him…

That was when neighborhood watch had called the cops, and Lancaster’s finest had arrived a few minutes later with guns drawn, shouting for him to get on the ground.

Owen had taken that moment to shoot an SOS to his brother, just in case.

Of course, he hadn’t gotten on the ground, but showed them his Pegasus identification card all the members of his unit carried.

The two cops had looked nervously at each other and then made the call to Detective Reed, who had shown up with more police at his disposal.

Then the shit show had really begun when Reed decided he would arrest him and figure out the rest later.

The lazy asshole didn’t even bother to make a call to check his credentials. That was how some of the law enforcement were. They were either glad for Pegasus’ help or they were resentful of it.

Reed fell into the resentful category.

Owen twirled the baton in his hand like he was getting ready to hit a home run, and his eyes locked with Reed’s across the short distance.

The sound of several vehicles approaching filled the air, and four black SUVs barreled into the area.

“Stand down,” Reed told his officers, and those who had pulled their weapons slowly lowered them.

Several men got out of the vehicles, and one of them was the Lancaster mayor and another, the chief of police. Owen had met both men at a fundraiser last year.

The third man getting out of the vehicle was his older brother and boss. Behind Ace came Dalton, Oliver, and Parker. The three men opted to stay near the vehicles, but not Ace.

His brother was fucking fuming; Owen knew the signs.

Ace was big, imposing, and scary. His brother oozed power, and the black t-shirt with the Pegasus emblem etched on the front pocket molded to his impressive frame.

The cops around Owen moved out of the way when Ace stalked toward them, and Owen didn’t blame them. Anyone in their right mind would step out of Ace’s way.

“You okay?” Ace asked gruffly when he reached him.

“Yup.”

Ace grabbed his upper arm and held him still. His brother’s cool blue eyes took in the scratch on his right cheek, and ice settled into Ace’s gaze.

“It’s nothing,” Owen said. He knew that look and tried to defuse it.

The last thing they needed was to have Ace punch a Lancaster police detective.

The thought came way too late.

Ace spun away from him and, with one power move, broke Reed’s nose with a punch that sent the asshole to the dirt.

Shouting and chaos occurred, along with everyone pulling their weapons and aiming them at him and Ace.

It took the mayor and the chief of police to restore normalcy.

And in the aftermath of it all, Reed held a hand to his bleeding nose and stared at him.

Owen gave Reed a smirking smile. One that silently said…

Don’t fuck with us.