Hero (11 page)

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for not pushing me.”

I curled my fingers beneath her chin, lifting her face to mine. “I would never force you. I’m glad you trusted me.”

She grinned. “Me too.”

Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she giggled, blushing. “Um, can I have some of that pizza now?”

I brushed a kiss across her forehead. “You can have anything you want, princess.”

“
Y
ou look happy
,” Sharon commented as I stepped out of the elevator into the FBI field office.

“I am,” I said cheerily. I still felt high after my night with Dex. I’d touched his cock, and it hadn’t been scary at all. It was as though a weight had been lifted my shoulders. Some of the darkness that had plagued me for three years had been purged.

He hadn’t pressured me to have sex. He’d allowed me to go at my own pace, encouraging and praising me, making me feel strong and beautiful.

And after we finished, he’d been content to share pizza and talk about my ideas for my next novel. He’d stayed until two in the morning, listening intently and offering insight into BDSM when I had questions. Despite the late night, I didn’t feel remotely tired. I was too excited. Today, I’d get to continue my research on the Latin Kings. And I’d get to see Dex.

“I want whatever you put in your coffee this morning,” Sharon commented. “You look far too bubbly for eight AM.”

“You’re not a morning person?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t say that. But I don’t look ready to run a marathon when I get to the office this early.”

“I’m just looking forward to getting more research in,” I said, not willing to tell her what I’d done with Dex last night. Sharon might know that we’d had scenes at Decadence, but what we’d shared in my hotel room was far more intimate. And—to my surprise—that intimacy didn’t scare me. It should, but I didn’t feel a shred of regret over what we’d done.

“You’re already here. Good.” I turned to find Dex grinning at me. I returned his smile, my own wide and slightly silly.

“Hi,” I greeted him brightly.

“Right,” Sharon said drily. “You’re excited about your research. I’ll leave you to it.”

She walked away, but I didn’t watch her go. I couldn’t stop looking into Dex’s sparkling blue eyes. My lips tingled with the memory of his kiss. For a moment, I thought he was going to lean down and take my mouth again.

“Scott,” Kennedy barked, severing the connection between us. “Stop mooning over Miss Martin and get to work.”

I looked at the carpet, blushing.

“Javier called in,” Kennedy continued. “You need to go out and meet him.”

My head snapped up, my attention captured. I hadn’t gotten the chance to interview Javier Santiago yet, but I was dying to ask him an entire notebook’s worth of questions.

“Javier’s in the field?” Dex asked, puzzled.

I recalled what Kennedy had said about promising Javier’s wife that he would keep him out of the field. And from what Sharon had told me about his time undercover with the Latin Kings, he’d more than put in his time risking his neck.

“He is,” Kennedy confirmed. “He’s meeting with a contact he had while undercover. A Ms. Ana Lucia Ramirez. Her husband was arrested a few years ago, but she called this morning and said his cousin, Manny Hernandez, has come in from Chicago. She thinks he’s trying to get a foothold for the Kings in New York again. You will go take her statement. Javier’s there because she knows and trusts him, but I want you to take over so he can return to his desk. His my best analyst, and I want him here.”

“I’m on it, boss,” Dex said, all business. He turned and pressed the button to call the elevator.

I stepped through the silver doors as soon as they opened. He frowned at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as we began to descend.

“We’re not going to the safest neighborhood. I don’t like the idea of you being there.”

I planted a hand on my hip. “You agreed to let me shadow you, so I’m coming.”

He sighed. “I was ordered to let you shadow me. If it were up to me, you’d conduct your interviews in the safety of the office.”

“Well, good thing it’s not up to you,” I declared. “I want to know more about what your day is like, what it’s like being an agent. That’s just as important as my interviews. Besides, this is the first case that’s been directly connected to the Latin Kings since I got to New York. I’m not going to miss out on the action.”

He shook his head as we stepped out of the elevator and crossed the garage to his sedan. “There won’t be any action. I’m taking Ms. Ramirez’s statement, that’s all.”

“Then there’s no reason for you to worry,” I said definitively.

“I still don’t like it,” he grumbled as he opened the passenger door for me.

Deciding not to comment further, I slid into the seat and retrieved my notepad from my bag. Dex got in the driver’s side, eyeing my pen.

“Do you have a problem with me taking notes?” I asked, a hint of a challenge in my words.

“I guess not. I just don’t like the feeling that I’m being studied. I’m not some interesting specimen or something. I’m a person.”

“Of course you’re a person.” My eyes roved over his body.

But you’re definitely an interesting specimen.
I decided to keep that quip to myself.

“But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll write my thoughts down later.” I moved to return my notebook to my purse.

“You don’t have to do that. I know how important your work is. Do what you need to do.”

My heart warmed.

“I know how important your work is.”
He didn’t qualify it with a
“to you.”
He didn’t think it was some silly exercise I indulged in. He really did respect my careers, both my journalism and my fiction.

“Thanks,” I smiled, uncapping my pen. “So, what can you tell me about Javier? Sharon said he was undercover with the Latin Kings and helped the FBI take them down.”

Dex nodded. “He was in deep cover for nearly three years. He’s the reason we were able to decimate the Kings in New York.”

“That must have been a difficult assignment.”

“I’m sure it was. But it was before my time here. I was in Chicago back then. You’d have to talk to Javi if you want details.”

Oh, I definitely wanted details.

“I will,” I declared. “Sharon said he’s married to Derek’s sister, Charlotte. She said Derek’s father sold her to the Kings as leverage and Javier protected her.”

“That’s the story.”

He wasn’t being very forthcoming. “But how did they end up getting married? Did Charlotte know he was FBI? Or did she fall for him when she thought he was with the Kings?”

“You’ll have to ask Javier. It’s not my place to say what happened between them. They’re very happy now. That’s what matters.”

I huffed out an exasperated breath. “Can’t you tell me anything about them? It would help me know what questions to ask.”

He glanced over at me. “I’m not trying to be unhelpful, but Javier’s my friend, and I won’t go around sharing his business. That’s something Smith would do, not me.”

I chewed my pen cap, thinking. If Dex wouldn’t give me the details, I’d have to come up with my questions on my own. And I already had plenty of them. I started scribbling them down, prepping for the interview.

“Okay,” Dex cut through my concentration a while later. I looked around and realized he’d parked the car in front of an aged brick townhouse. The stoop was narrow, the black paint on the door peeling.

“I’m going in,” he said. “Stay here. And when I say
here,
I mean in the car. Don’t go wandering off. If you see something interesting, write it down. You can ask me about it when I get back.”

He started to open his door.

“Wait a minute!” I exclaimed. “I’m coming in with you. I want to talk to Javier.”

“Now isn’t the time for an interview,” he said calmly. “I’m here to take Ana Lucia’s statement.”

“I know. And I want to be there to hear it.”

“I can’t let you come in with me. She’s scared. It’ll be difficult enough getting her to open up to me with Javi’s help. I can’t take in a stranger. Not this time.”

“This is the first case connected to the Latin Kings since I came to New York. I’m not missing out.”

“Yes, you are. You’re going to stay in the car, and that’s final.”

“I came here for my story,” I insisted. “I’m not going to just sit here like a good girl and wait for you to come back.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, princess.”

He opened his glove compartment and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Before I could process what was happening, he grabbed my right hand and clicked the cool metal closed around my wrist.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed.

“Making sure you follow my orders.”

He secured the other cuff around the handle above the door. I tugged against the restraint, accomplishing nothing.

“Don’t struggle. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

I glowered at him. “Yes,
Sir,
” I flung the honorific at him.

He had the gall to grin. “Good girl.”

My angry growl clashed with the sound of his door shutting.

I couldn’t believe it. He’d actually handcuffed me to his car to keep me from going in with him.

I watched him disappear through the front door to the townhouse, then waited thirty seconds.

He’d made a crucial error: he hadn’t cuffed both of my hands. Too bad for him, I’d researched how to pick a handcuff lock for one of my books.

Luckily, I’d chosen to pin my hair back that morning. It took less than three minutes for me to pluck the pins from my bun and work the lock open. The cuffs clicked as they released, the sound filling me with triumph.

I paused, planning my next move. I couldn’t just go barging into the townhouse. Dex had been right when he said it would be difficult to earn Ana Lucia’s trust. It would have been hard enough if I’d been invited in. This situation called for snooping.

I got out of the car and shut the door softly behind me. Judging by the age of the home, Dex would be able to hear the sound through the single-paned window. And if he could hear me, that might mean I could hear him. At the very least, I could take a peek inside and get a feel for the setting.

I darted across the sidewalk, careful to keep out of view of the window. Then I took up my position, pressing my side against the warm bricks as I listened.

Damn.

I could hear the distant rumble of masculine voices, but nothing coherent. They must be farther back in the house.

Oh, well. If they weren’t in the window’s sight line, I could risk glancing inside. Going up onto my toes, I peered through the glass. The room was empty, but artificial light spilled into it from an open doorway set into the corner. I glimpsed an old stove through the opening and part of a table. A pretty Latina woman was visible in profile. She leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. I imagined Dex was sitting across from her. The expression on her face wasn’t at all trusting.

Maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t taken me in with him.

Not that I’d admit that to him. I’d just—

“What do you think you’re doing,
puta
?” The masculine voice was heavily accented and far too close.

I whirled to find a tattooed man looming over me. He was relatively thin, but his muscles were still defined, his frame wiry and tall. I took a step back.

“What are you doing at my cousin’s house?” he questioned. “You looking for someone?” He glanced over at Dex’s official-looking black sedan where it was parked at the curb, and then his gaze flicked over my professional attire. “You a fed?” he asked, his voice growing heavy with menace. His hand shot out, his fingers fisting in my blouse as he jerked me toward him.

I reacted immediately, landing a punch across his jaw. He reeled back, his face slack with shock. But only half a heartbeat passed before his features twisted with rage.

Oh, shit.

I turned to run, but his fingers tangled in my hair. I cried out as he jerked me back against his chest. I jammed my elbow into his stomach. He grunted, but he didn’t release me. His arm wrapped around my neck, squeezing. I dug my fingernails into his forearm. He snarled and tightened his grip. My head started feeling oddly light, and I gasped for air.

“Let her go.” Dex’s face blurred, but I could make out his huge form, gun drawn.

Black spots danced across my vision, and in my panic, my body went into fight mode. My self-defense training kicked in, and I brought my heel down hard on the top of my attacker’s foot.

He cursed, and his arm left my neck. I sagged, and he shoved me forward. Strong arms caught me.

“Javier!” Dex called out. “I need you out here.”

“What happened?”

“Hernandez ran for it. That way.”

I heard heavy footfalls slapping against the pavement, moving away from us.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

He lifted me up and tucked me against his chest. My vision cleared, and Dex’s face came into sharp relief. His features were drawn tight with rage. I shrank back, but I couldn’t put any distance between us with his iron arms around me.

Despite the angry tension in his muscles, he was gentle when he placed me in the passenger seat. He wasn’t so gentle when he snarled at the sight of the open handcuffs, my pin sticking out of the lock. He slammed the car door and quickly got in the other side. The tires squealed as he hit the accelerator hard, speeding us away from danger.

“Smith,” Dex snapped. I looked over and realized he was on his phone. “Get a team to Ana Lucia’s place. Hernandez is on the run. Javier went after him, but I want the whole neighborhood searched. And someone needs to make sure Ana is okay.” There was a brief pause. “No, I can’t help. I have to deal with Chloe.”

Oh, fuck.

A new kind of fear threaded through my belly. Dex didn’t look at me, but I could feel his fury pulsing through the car, pressing up against me. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I’d never seen him like this. He’d always seemed so sweet and gentle, if domineering. I suddenly saw him as the very deadly FBI agent he was.

“Listen, Dex, I’m—”

“Don’t say anything,” he ordered. His voice was soft, dangerous. “You do not have permission to speak.”

“What? I don’t need your—”

“Quiet. Every word that leaves your lips will add to your punishment. Am I clear?”

“Punishment? Dex, be serious.”

“I am serious. And that’s four more. I asked you a question.” He speared me with a glacial blue stare. “You do not have permission to speak. Am. I. Clear?” He enunciated each word, making them lash against me.