Feet pounding on the pavement fired my anger.

I sped up a tad. I refused to let this bastard get away.

He thought he’d easily outrun me and go free since I was the one behind him.

After all, he was a man, and I was a mere woman.

Yeah, he was that kind, without a doubt.

He was wrong. Yes, my brother and dad were coming from other directions, but I was determined to catch him before they did.

Being dismissed due to my gender was a sure way to make me prove you wrong.

This guy had already made me dislike him the first time we met when he came into our bail bonds office.

When we weren’t actively out hunting someone who jumped bail or had other warrants out on them, we all worked in our bond office, DeSantis Bounty & Bonds.

I happened to be there the day this creep came in.

He’d made bail and was awaiting his hearing.

His sister had been the one to post it on his behalf.

She brought him in with her to ensure we had all the necessary information. She was anxious about her collateral.

As soon as I met him, I knew she would lose her house.

That was what she used as assurance. Christ, what a dirtbag.

He’d skip and leave his sister to lose something she worked hard to get.

I had this gift, as Dad and my brothers called it.

I could predict with ninety-five percent accuracy which people would bail.

They were good at it themselves, but not like me.

I tried to explain to them that I got this sensation in the back of my head, almost like a buzzing, when I met the person who would flee.

I was so accurate that my brothers wouldn’t bet against me anymore.

I wasn’t running full out after the man I was chasing, and he was beginning to tire.

He’d slow down soon. I rarely ran my fastest. Why kill yourself?

I did that only if it was in a crowded area where others could get hurt.

My years of running long distances in middle school, high school, and college taught me how to do it properly.

He cut across the street and headed toward a housing development.

Oh no, not today, I thought. It was the closest neighborhood.

Undoubtedly, one of my family members was there waiting for him.

However, I still wanted to get him. I needed to do a takedown.

I had excess energy to burn. I kicked my speed up a notch or two. Immediately, I gained on him.

He reached the edge of the neighborhood, and I was a few feet behind him. He kept glancing over his shoulder to see where I was, which slowed the idiot further. I saw the fear on his face. He was worried I’d catch him. Right, you are, stupid. Having conversations with myself was one of my quirks.

He turned to face forward, and I saw them a second after he did.

A young mom pushing a stroller was coming our way.

Like my gift for knowing a bail jumper, I knew he would grab her and use them to try and negotiate his way free.

I had news for him. It wouldn’t work. One final burst of power, and I dove for his back.

I latched onto his shoulders and rode him to the ground.

I made sure to slam into him hard so that when he hit, it hurt.

He cried out in pain as he smashed into the pavement. The mom shrieked and stood frozen on the sidewalk several feet away. Behind her came Gerardo on foot, and not far behind him was one of our SUVs. Papà , Daddy, was driving it.

“I’ve got him,” I shouted in case they thought I wasn’t in control of him.

The way my captive was trying to gasp for air, I’d knocked the wind out of him.

Taking advantage of it, I rolled off him.

I jerked one of his arms out from underneath his chest. He tried to break his fall.

I slapped the first cuff around his wrist, tightened it, and quickly yanked the other out and back to latch it.

With him secured, I rolled him onto his back.

It wasn’t wise to leave him on his stomach.

He was still wheezing and attempting to get air.

I lifted his diaphragm up and then eased him down.

It helped to ease the spasm, allowing him to breathe.

I didn’t want him to die on me. It was too much paperwork and a pain in the ass.

By then, Papà had reached us, exited the SUV, and stood nearby. Rardo, as we called Gerardo, had stopped to reassure the mom.

“ Bambina , Baby girl, are you alright?” Papà asked.

I grinned at him. “ Papà Orso , Daddy Bear, I’m great. I needed an easy stretch of the legs. I would’ve let him run longer if he hadn’t thought to go for the mom and baby. Now, I’ll still have to do a run tonight,” I bemoaned.

He laughed. No matter how old or competent I was, he always checked on me, and I always called him Papà Orso when he did. Being Italian, we often used words from our native tongue peppered into our English. We were fluent in Italian, Spanish, and English.

“Get off me, bitch,” Johnni Larsen snapped. He was still a little hoarse, but he’d regained his breath enough to speak.

“Shut up, asshole. If I were you, I’d save my talk,” I told Larsen offhandedly. If he thought being called a bitch would upset me, he was wrong.

“You had no right to chase or handcuff me! I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when you bunch hollered at me, then chased me,” he rattled out.

Here we go. The “I wasn’t doing anything, and they attacked me for no reason” excuse. We’d heard this one countless times.

“Oh yes, we did that because we simply had nothing else to do with our day than to chase your stupid ass all over town.” I snickered.

Rardo came ambling up. I was on my feet, staring at Johnni, who glared up at us.

“I’m having you arrested for assault and suing you for mental and physical pain,” Johnni threatened. We ignored him.

“Nice dive, sorella , sis. I’d give you a nine-point-five,” Rardo said, grinning.

“And why only a nine-point-five, fratello , brother?” I asked. I couldn’t wait to hear his answer.

“You didn’t put enough jump into it. You could’ve ridden his shoulders down with your knees if you had done that. Keep practicing. You’ll get better but never as good as me,” he teased. I shoved him playfully.

“Are you two done so we can get this piece of shit loaded up and to the jail? Was the mom alright, Rardo? She left, I see,” Papà said. There was no heat in his words. He knew how we were, and he often joked with us. You had to have a sense of humor to do this job and not go nuts.

“I reassured her we were legally permitted to do this. I showed her my badge and told her my name. She was just startled, Papà. ”

“Good, good, figlio , son, as long as they’re good,” Papà replied.

Larsen kept getting louder with his protests and threats as we talked. Our ignoring him only made him angrier.

“I’M FUCKING SUING YOU, FUCKERS!” he bellowed.

“Your dirty mouth and repetitive threats are getting old,” Rardo said. He and Papà leaned over and yanked Larsen to his feet. I smirked at him as he stared at me.

“Make sure you spell our names right. The last name is DeSantis. Capital D, lowercase E, Capital S, all lowercase A, N, T, I, S. My name is Gianna, capital G, all lowercase I, A, N, N, A,” I said helpfully.

As they led him off, Larsen returned to swearing and threatening us with the law.

They patted him down to be sure he wasn’t carrying anything dangerous.

When they asked if he had anything on him that was sharp or could be harmful, he told them to fuck themselves.

They put him in the backseat and buckled him in.

It had a cage between it and the front seat.

Rardo handed his gun to me before sliding in with Larsen. Papà and I would ride in the front.

On the ride to the police station to turn him in, I had time to let my mind wander.

It returned to the topic that had preoccupied me for the past four months: Rian O’Sheeran.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t forget the man.

Being back in St. Augustine didn’t help the matter.

This was his home. I watched the street on the off chance I’d see him, which was silly.

An O’Sheeran wouldn’t casually be walking down the street.

They were uber-rich and infamous. Paparazzi followed them wherever they went.

They had bodyguards. People like them didn’t walk down the street, but I still scanned the sidewalks in hopes of a glimpse.

Exhaustion hit me. I stifled a yawn. It wasn’t due to the chase tiring me out.

It was the lack of sleep. I hadn’t had a full night of sleep since we met Rian and his family.

I kept chastising myself for allowing a man to affect me this way, especially one like Rian.

Even if I were willing to have a casual fling, he would be the last man I’d do it with, assuming he’d be interested.

The reason was less about his money or reputation.

It was the fact that he affected me to the degree he did.

I’d never been in danger of a man making me lose focus or consider something serious and permanent with him.

Their looks didn’t make me weak in the knees.

The sound of their voices wouldn’t cause my body to react with instant arousal.

They didn’t fill my dreams until it was hard to sleep.

I’d had lovers and casual boyfriends. I was twenty-eight years old.

As much as my brothers and papà tried to scare them off, and before them, the boys when I was in high school, it didn’t always work.

I enjoyed sex, and sometimes toys weren’t enough.

Though not often, I’d had one-night stands when the urge grew too much.