Dirty Blue Page 18

  Oh, that motherfucker needs to feel what real pain is.

  My anger is only mounting. I wasn’t this upset when the incident was happening, or even right after. It’s been festering though and now I need something to release it on. I’m not a violent person. Sure, I love to grapple with Nikki. I mainly do it to make sure I can handle my own out in the field. There’s pleasure in it, however, that’s a controlled environment. Anyone who steps foot on a mat or inside a cage is there of their own free will. They know going in what could happen. They welcome it.

  I didn’t welcome a damn thing Lance did today.

  Locating my keys, I insert it and then turn only to discover it’s unlocked.

  Could Ms. Lincoln have forgotten to lock it back? She does come over from time to time, but she’s never left my door unlocked before.

  Lowering my hand, I unholster my police issued Glock, placing my trigger finger to the side, pointing straight.

  It could be that my neighbor is inside now and that’s why my door is unlocked, but I’m not taking any chances.

  Turning the knob, I push the door open slowly and quietly, being cautious for my sake and hers if she’s in there. Before I step through, I listen, but it’s silent inside. Only the kitchen light is on, casting a glow in the entryway.

  Peeking behind the door, I take in all points I can see, my eyes landing on my couch last. Relief washes over me when I see Drago stretched out, but then I notice something on his chest and freeze when I realize it’s Gabriel. They’re both napping, peacefully from the looks of it.

  Two things swim through my mind: what is Drago doing in my home and why does he have the baby that’s supposed to be across the hall?

  Stepping all the way in, I holster my weapon and then ease the door closed, trying not to wake them. I need time to think.

  It’s too quiet though, so when my gun clicks, locking in place, Drago’s eyes snap open.

  Walking over, he tracks my steps, not saying anything. I don’t speak either, because frankly, I’m not sure what to say. Should I be mad? Am I overreacting in my head?

  I reach down, taking Gabriel from him, turning him and bringing him to my chest. He whimpers, but his eyes remain closed, so I take him to his room. He’ll get a better night’s rest in his bed. It’s still relatively early in the evening. I know he’ll need another feeding before dawn.

  Once I tuck him in, I come back out to find Drago sitting up in the middle of my couch. He looks worse for the wear.

  “You want to tell me how you got in my condo?” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for his response.

  Drago stands, and in two steps he’s in front of me.

  “I’m resourceful.” His infectious smile is a bit cocky as he grabs my hips, pulling my center into his cock, which starts to harden on contact.

  For a moment I close my eyes, savoring the feel of him.

  I don’t understand how he does it. No one has ever had any type of power over me, yet he does, and I don’t remember the moment I relinquished it to him. Maybe it was the night I first slept with him five weeks ago; maybe it was somewhere between then and now. I have no idea.

  A part of me likes the way he makes me feel with a look, a simple touch, or even his sweet, sexy words. Another part of me doesn’t trust it.

  Opening my eyelids, I press for a real reason.

  “That doesn’t cut it.” I step back, leaving his grip. “Answer my question.”

  “Jesus, Bri, calm down. Fuck. The neighbor lady let me in.”

  “Ms. Lincoln just let you in here?”

  “I called you a couple of times, but you never answered, so I drove over. I guess I knocked too hard, and I might’ve called out your name, anyway, that’s when your neighbor heard me. She was all too happy to let me in here to wait.”

  “And Gabe?” Why did she let him take him?

  “She said she really needed to run to the market. She asked me if I could watch him until you got home. She assured me you’d be here any minute but that was an hour ago.” He raises an eyebrow, but it doesn’t stick when a yawn overtakes him. “Fuck.” He scrubs his hand down his face. “I’m tired. I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.”

  “Why not?”

  “What?” He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand the question, but then I see the flicker in his eyes. If I hadn’t been watching him closely, I wouldn’t have seen it. I get the feeling he didn’t mean to tell me that last part. “It was nothing. Just had business to handle. Can I crash here tonight?”

  He’s adorable when he’s exhausted. I almost tell him yes but that would be stupid on my part.

  I’m not buying the excuse Ms. Lincoln had to go to the supermarket. I just brought her groceries last night. Crazy old woman just wants to fix me up so damn bad she’ll let anyone in here, I guess.

  “If I let you stay, you gonna tell me why you haven’t slept, what business you were taking care of, or where you were?”

  “Babe,” he steps forward, cupping my face with his warm hands. “I swear to you, I’m not a bad guy. I’m not involved in shady business.”

  He leans down, kissing my lips, and making me unable to resist the pull. I waver, falling into him. I let him take me deeper, into an abyss I’m not likely to find my way back out of.

  I can’t even say I want to.

  But all too quickly his lips pull away, leaving me wanting more.

  “If we’re going to date, you have to stop thinking the worst or questioning everything I do.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” I ask, closing the little distance between us. “Dating?”

  “Is that what you want us to be doing?” His arms wrap around me.

  “You said it like it was a done deal.”

  I breathe in his scent and for the first time, I don’t smell scumball making me want to hurl the contents of my stomach. His scent is too inviting. I want to coat myself with, curl up and snuggle with until everything smells and feels like Drago Acerbi—the man I’m not supposed to want this with.

  “Then I guess it is.” He pulls me tighter to his front. “I really want to fuck you right now, but I don’t think I can get it all the way up.”

  I slightly chuckle at his remark, and then I smile on the inside, thinking how beautiful he and Gabe looked together on the couch. The ounce of guilt I feel keeps gnawing at me. I want to tell him so badly, but I know I can’t; not yet.

  “Let’s go to bed, tired one.”

  Sleep comes easier than I thought it would. I wasn’t tired when I got home. My adrenaline was spiked too high, but a few minutes under the covers, skin-to-skin with Drago, and I was out.

  15

  Jumping out of the elevator, I haul ass down the corridor until I reach Becky’s desk. She’s staring intently at the computer screen in front of her.

  “Hey,” I call out as I near. “Tom is expecting me. Can I go on in?” I point my finger at his closed door behind her desk.

  “Sure, detective.”

  She doesn’t even look up from her computer. I was hoping she would give me some indication as to what I’m walking into. The chief’s message simply said: My office. Thirty minutes. So, to think I’m about to get my ass handed to me is definitely what I’m expecting.

  I don’t have any further intel. And what I do know about Drago, well, that might get me hauled in front of the ethics board.

  The deeper I get with him, the more worried I become, and with good reason. We’re playing a risky game—no, I am. But at the same time, I don’t have the power to stop. I’m pretty sure there’s only one reason I’d walk away from him and it’s every bit to do with his son.

  I like Drago. I like him a lot, but I won’t let anyone harm that innocent little baby.

  Rapping my knuckles on Tom’s door, I turn the knob and push it open before he calls out. Entering, I immediately avert my eyes when they land on Lance in order to stifle the growl that wants to escape my lips.

  I haven’t figured out my next move where he
’s concerned. I’m no closer to a solution than I was last week when I spoke to my partner. In hindsight, I probably should have gone to Mike instead. Connie and I hash things out, but Mike always offers advice or tells me what he’d do in a situation, which is always the right thing to do. He’s a good cop. He’s a good man.

  “You’re late,” Tom scolds like I’m some kid.

  It pisses me off, but I don’t show it. On the outside, I’m as cool as can be. But on the inside, I’m a burning ball of fire. I have been since that scumbag put his hands on me.

  I even came close to knocking Nikki out Monday morning during our training session. I lost focus on the here and now and only saw the source of my rage. I ended up giving Nikki a vague story. She knew my adrenaline had spiked and something set me off, so I felt inclined to tell her something.

  “Sorry,” I tell him, meaning the word. “I was driving when you sent the text. I didn’t see it until I got to the Pacific Station. I texted you back as soon as I read it, saying I was headed here.” He knows how long it takes to get here in morning LA traffic. He’s lucky it didn’t take longer.

  Tom motions with his hand. “Take a seat, detective.”

  Doing as I’m told, I walk forward, planting my butt down in one of the two seats in front of his desk.

  “Give us the intel you have on Acerbi,” Lance demands from where he’s perched on the edge of Tom’s desk, off to my right side.

  Looking at our boss, I don’t pay him any mind. I’d rather not acknowledge he’s even here. If I do, it’ll only fuel the furnace inside my gut.

  “If I had something, you would have been the first to know, Chief. Fact is”—I shake my head—“there’s nothing there. Acerbi, from everything I’ve seen, is on the up and up.”

  “Bullshit,” Tom yells.

  I whip my head back because the outburst catches me off guard.

  “He’s right,” Lance agrees. “We all know Acerbi is dirty. His whole family is, the problem is proving it.”

  “No,” I disagree. “I don’t know that. From my viewpoint, I don’t think he is.”

  “Well, maybe you’re not looking hard enough, Andrews,” Houston comes back at me.

  “Well,” I mock him, finally looking over in his direction, and sure enough, my blood heats. “I’ve looked a hell of a lot harder than you have. You haven’t done shit on this case, so maybe you just need to sit over there and mind your own business.”

  He pops up, standing to his full height. “You wanna say—”

  He’s quickly cut off as the chief holds up his hand with his palm facing Houston, stopping him from saying any more.

  “Brianna, that is not how you speak to your superior, and that’s exactly what Houston is.” A smug look forms on Lance’s face, making me turn to face the chief. “I won’t tolerate disrespect.”

  “You want to talk about disrespect, ask him”—I throw my arm out in Houston’s direction—“about laying his hands on me last week. Sorry, Chief, but he doesn’t have respect for me or human decency, so I don’t have respect for him. And as for my superior,” my head shakes from side-to-side. “Since when? We both share the same role and job title, so you’re going to need to clarify that for me.”

  “I suggest you watch the tone you’re taking with me.” Tom’s eyes bore hard into mine. “Because you will respect me, my office, and my authority. But yes,” he nods. “I’ll clarify since you must not have been paying attention the first time I told you. When I assigned you to this case, I said Houston would work with you on it as someone with more experience. That makes him your superior on this assignment. But furthermore, he has more tenure than you, detective, that alone should earn respect and loyalty.”

  Is he fucking for real?

  “Chief,” I calmly say. “With all due respect—”

  “Do not come in my office and ‘all due respect’ me. You”—he jabs his finger in my direction—“haven’t done your job.”

  “I’ve been working this case from the beginning. I’ve researched everything I can find on him and his family. I’ve gotten DNA proof he is Gabriel’s father. I’ve watched the shipping port, his only known warehouse. I’ve spoken to several members of his staff. And I’ve met with Acerbi. There is nothing there.”

  How many times do I have to say it?

  “What do you mean, you’ve met with Acerbi? I didn’t authorize that. What did you not understand about ‘undercover’?”

  Lance Houston is grating on every nerve I have.

  Turning my head, I stare at him before I utter a word.

  “I analyzed the situation and made the best call I could at the time. I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere at all sitting in my car watching a building. He was bound to catch me.” I’m not going to admit Drago already did. “Besides,” I say, getting back to my point. “It’s not like you helped once. You don’t like that I talked to Acerbi, too bad. You knew I’d never worked ’undercover’ yet you haven’t offered any direction or any advice; you’ve done nothing.”

  If that motherfucker wants to crawl my ass, he has another thing coming.

  “You’re out of line, detective. Don’t make me tell you that again.” Tom’s hard voice rings in my ears.

  I look back at the chief. “What about me telling you how he touched me inappropriately?”

  “If something had taken place like you said it did, then I imagine you would have reported it. Since no such report landed on my desk this week, I can only assume you’re lashing out at him for something I don’t give two shits about. What I do care about is credible evidence on Drago Acerbi. So explain why you have jack shit.”

  “Like I said, there’s nothing to find. I can’t make something up to appease you.”

  “Maybe I have the wrong person on the job.”

  “Maybe you do,” I spit, regretting the words as they exit my mouth. Fuck. I can’t let him re-assign me. Drago needs me to prove he’s innocent, problem is, I can’t really do that. The chief isn’t accepting those photos as evidence that he’s not crooked. I don’t know what else to do. Drago is keeping something from me and until I know what that is, I can’t sit here with one hundred percent certainty and continue to spout Drago’s innocence.

  But how to find out what that is? He’s not going to divulge. I know that much.

  “What about the kid?” I ask. Tom’s eyebrows pop up in confusion. “Acerbi’s son. I still have him. Your contact, Captain Williams, won’t return my calls. If his mother doesn’t want him, then I see no reason to keep him from his father.”

  “We’ve discussed that already, detective, and I’m not rehashing it out. Acerbi is not to be told. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I bite out.

  “Good. Don’t bring it up again.”

  Excuse me, I think, staring at my boss, looking at him really hard for the first time. He failed to address the fact that I still have Gabriel. He blew off Houston’s actions with me. He’s only concerned with something—anything—that’ll lead to the arrest of Drago.

  “You’ve made a real fuck-up of this case as it is. I don’t know how we’re going to sort it out now and find anything substantial,” Houston says like he isn’t just as responsible for this case as I am.

  Un-fucking-believable.

  “Other than berating me—for no reason—you haven’t met with me once to discuss how we should handle this investigation.”

  “Because I was under the impression you were an adult that could do her job.”

  “I can. And I do, which is why I did it my way.”

  “And that’s not getting us anywhere, is it, Brianna?”

  “Enough from both of you,” the chief says. “Arguing isn’t getting us anywhere either. It’s not getting me any closer to putting an Acerbi behind bars. So”—he steeples his hands, looking at me—“here’s what we’re going to do. Houston is going to infiltrate his organization.”

  “You honestly think that’s possible?”

  If they think they can, then they a
ren’t as smart as I thought. I hate admitting that where Lance Houston is concerned, but the man isn’t dumb. He calculates everything, which is confusing, or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s a lot simpler than that because one thing I’m sure of—Drago would peg Houston the minute he laid eyes on him. There is no way he could get in tight with Drago’s company, much less the man himself.

  And if they try? What will I do then?

  Risking my career by sleeping with the enemy is bad enough, but telling him the details of a police investigation is a criminal offense.

  I like Drago, but I won’t risk that. I will not step over that thin blue line. I can’t.

  “We’ve done it in the past,” the chief says. “We can do it again. We’ll need to play this differently though. No one outside of this room can know anything.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea—or safe.”

  Something like that requires a team, a task force, to pull it off. Nothing about this screams right, but I keep my mouth shut. At least for now.

  Maybe I didn’t report Lance. Maybe I should have. But if they move forward with this botched bullshit, you better believe I’m going up the chain.

  “We’ll discuss it more in a couple of days. I’ll have Becky put another meeting on my schedule, but for now, it’s tabled. I have another meeting in five minutes with the mayor’s chief of staff.”

  Warning bells go off immediately and I know something is up. No matter how much I want to spin other scenarios in my head, my gut says the chief is involved in something that is not on the up and up with this case.

  Meeting with Gabriel’s mother’s uncle? That’s a little too convenient. Sure, it’s not a stretch for the mayor or his staff to meet with the police. It’s quite common, but it’s usually the chief of police for the city of LA. Not a lower ranking deputy chief of the detective bureau.

  Without saying anything else, I stand, pulling the strap of my purse over my shoulder.

  Once outside Ramirez’s office, I say quick goodbyes in passing to Becky as I head down the long hallway back to the elevator.

  It’s not seconds later that I feel the heat of his large frame behind, walking too close and making my skin crawl.