Rogue (3 page)

I nodded curtly, pleased that he had actually turned up some evidence but disappointed
that I hadn’t.  I had allowed Carter to waste far too much of my time.  The most I
could hope for now was to equal what Miller had found to prevent him from taking responsibility
for the successful bust.

“Nothing so far on my end.  All I found out was that the owner is a bastard.  If people
aren’t bothering to be discreet, he’s probably part of it.  I told him I was going
to explore the club, so I’m going to take one more tour around before heading out.”

I turned from Miller, not waiting for his nod of agreement.  The dungeon obviously
wasn’t the place to be looking.  I would probably have more luck in the women’s bathroom.

I had barely taken two steps in that direction when my eyes fell on a swarthy Latino
guy who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, a bored expression on his lean,
pockmarked face.  Intricate, colorful tattoos covered every visible inch of his skin,
curling up his neck to end just below his jaw.  A black cloth band was tied around
his muscular upper arm, a sign that the FBI’s file on Decadence told me indicated
that he was a dungeon monitor.  He was employed by Carter.  A thrill of triumph shot
through me at the sight of him.

Hugo Reyes.  A known member of the Latin Kings.

Gangsters could be into kink.  They didn’t necessarily have to have nefarious purposes
to frequent BDSM clubs.  But his presence here coupled with the rampant drug use was
cause for suspicion.

My lips curled upward in my first genuinely pleased smile of the evening.  This was
exactly what I needed to secure my reputation with the Bureau.  A plan began forming
in my mind.  Arrogant Doms like Miller wouldn’t even think about looking down on me
if I could pull this off.

Chapter 2

“The NYPD is going to bust the place tonight.  Everything’s in place now that Miller
has gotten visual confirmation of drug use at Decadence.  I’ve already spent more
resources on this than I should have.  We only got involved as a personal favor to
Vaughn.  This doesn’t even technically fall under our jurisdiction.  You’re on the
FBI Violent Gang Task Force, Silverman, not the NYPD Narcotics Division.  I would
think you would want a bigger case than this.”

Kennedy Carver’s hazel eyes were coolly appraising, his fingers steepled in front
of him.  His elbows rested on the desk that separated us.  He was seated, and I was
standing.  The power dynamic was physically obvious, its effect on me made all the
more keen for the fact that I was alone in his office with him, the door closed at
my back.  I felt as though I was trapped with a predator, and I had to resist the
urge to shift my weight uncomfortably in the wake of his steady stare.

The man radiated an authority suited to his position; he was the unit director of
the New York branch of the FBI.  That made him my boss, which would have been reason
enough for careful deference without the added weight of his powerful bearing.  He
intimidated the hell out of me, and it was always a struggle to maintain a confident
stance while under his scrutiny.  Now more so than ever before, because I was questioning
his authority for the first time.

“I think there’s more going on at the club.  I want to extend the assignment.”

This assertiveness in direct conflict with his orders went against my nature.  If
an authority figure told me to do something, I complied with alacrity.  I had always
been a perfectionist, a model student.  My every move was carefully executed, every
test flawlessly passed.  I would settle for nothing less.

But in the last few months, my performance at work had been far from perfect.  My
mistakes had almost cost lives.  I needed a win.  I needed to redeem myself.  Not
only to prove to the Bureau that I was a competent agent, but also to reassure myself
that I wasn’t a failure.  My recent fuck-ups were making me question my core self-identity,
and my desperation to restore my confidence in myself was driving me to defy my boss.

“I think the Latin Kings are involved with the drug culture at Decadence,” I said
in the most confident tone I could muster.

Kennedy’s brows rose.  “Why do you think that, Silverman?”  The coolness with which
he said my surname let me know he had little patience for my theory.  I had to convince
him, and fast.

“Hugo Reyes is working as a dungeon monitor.”  My fingers shook slightly as I placed
the file I had worked up on my boss’ desk.  “We know Reyes is affiliated with the
Kings.  He just got released from Rikers three months ago.  He was serving time for
possession, but the DA couldn’t get anything else on him at the time he was arrested. 
They offered him a deal if he gave information on the Kings, but he refused.”

Kennedy frowned and flipped the file open.  “I don’t like the idea of one of those
bastards working in a BDSM club, but his employment there doesn’t necessarily mean
that he’s directly involved with the drug use at Decadence.  If Carter is lax enough
to allow his patrons to use on the premises, then he probably wouldn’t bat an eye
at hiring a man with a record as extra muscle for his club.  The NYPD will shut the
whole place down and revoke Carter’s licenses to run his business, and the whole situation
with Reyes will be dealt with that way.  He can’t pose a threat to the clientele at
Decadence if there is no Decadence.”

“But what if the Kings are taking an active part in dealing?”  I countered quickly. 
“If they’re trafficking through the club, then gathering more information on their
business there will allow us to bring in more of them.  We could take a major blow
at the organization if we can connect more of the Kings to Reyes and Decadence.  Some
of them might even talk in exchange for deals.”

My boss’ disapproving gaze turned considering; I was making headway.  I pressed on. 
“The Kings are expanding into new territories in the wake of the downfall of the Westies. 
If we could take out a whole tribe, we could at least make some headway against them.”

Four months ago, the FBI had gotten enough inside information on the notorious Westies
– the Irish Mob – to bring down the whole organization.  What we hadn’t foreseen was
the fresh wave of violence when the Latin Kings surged into the vacated territories. 
The gang was separated into rival tribes, and while that splintered their power, it
also escalated the violence between them.

All I had on Decadence was a hunch, but anything we could do to slow the Kings’ expansion
was a win at this point.  And Kennedy knew it.  He flipped though the file I had offered
him.

“Reyes is a member of the
Muertos
tribe.  The same as Javier Santiago,” he confirmed.  “Santiago hasn’t turned up enough
intel
for us to move in on the
Muertos
.”  His lips thinned.  “He hasn’t been checking in lately.  He might have to be pulled
from the field soon if the undercover op is getting too dangerous.  I won’t lose any
of my people to these motherfuckers.”

If Kennedy was concerned about Javier – our man on the inside – he might just listen
to me.  I pressed my advantage.  “I’m just asking for two weeks, sir.  If I haven’t
found anything more on the Kings by then, I’ll step back and let the NYPD do their
job.”

“You’ll step back when I tell you to step back, Silverman.”  His tone turned steely,
and I shrank away a fraction before I could stop myself.

Shit.
  I had pushed him too hard.  Kennedy wasn’t a man to tolerate being pushed.  His
hazel eyes speared me in place, green flashing through the brown.  The disconcerting
image of being pinned like a butterfly to a board flashed through my mind.  I lowered
my gaze, hoping to buy his tolerance with my deference.

“But you can have your two weeks.  As much as I hate to admit it, this hunch of yours
is the most we’ve gotten on the Kings since we sent Santiago in over a year ago.”

When I dared to look up at him, I found myself trapped by that incisive gaze once
again.

“How did your end of the recon mission go last night?”  He asked.  “Did the other
patrons buy your Dominatrix act?”

I stiffened at the word
act
.  Was it really so unbelievable that I could be sexually dominant?

“Silverman?”  He prompted, his stony expression daring me to lie.

“Carter thought I was a submissive.”  My jaw tightened with the admission.  “But the
submissive men in the club were obviously convinced that I was a Domme.”

“If Carter is suspicious, that’s more important than what the intoxicated customers
think.  Maybe it’s better if I turn this over to Miller.  I can send Smith in with
him.”

Kennedy wanted to replace me with his Dom friends?  No way.  It occurred to me that
there was only one way I could salvage this.  I swallowed my distaste and committed
to my decision.

“Carter mentioned that a good way to train to become a Dominant is to practice the
role of a submissive.  He was interested in showing me that side of his club.  I can
take him up on his offer.  I’ll be able to get closer to him than any of the guys
can.”

My boss’ brows drew together.  “I won’t ask you to do that, Sharon.  It’s not safe
for you to enter that kind of relationship with a mark.”

I couldn’t help it; I let out an exasperated huff.  “Is what Santiago is doing
safe?
  He’s living among the Latin Kings.  I’ll be spending a few nights with an unscrupulous
club owner.”  I squared my shoulders.  “I’ve passed all the same tests as the men
in this department.  I’m just as competent-”

The words died in my throat when Kennedy stood quickly.  At six and a half feet tall,
he towered over my tiny five foot four frame.  But it was the palpable anger that
suddenly radiated from him that made me take a step back.

“I put my people where I think they’ll be most effective, Silverman.”  His voice was
pitched low, but it seemed to boom throughout the office, filling the space and pressing
against me.

Bracing myself, I lifted my chin and met him squarely in the eye.  “Then you know
I’m your best shot at getting close to Carter.  He’ll be suspicious of Smith and he
has no reason to warm to Miller.  I’m the most effective agent for this op.”

I hardly breathed as I waited for his response.  I had either earned myself my most
important assignment to date or I had cost myself my job.  All of the air left my
chest in a rush at his slight nod.

“Okay, Silverman.  You can have the op, but Miller’s staying on, too.  Don’t argue
with me,” he cut me off before I could open my mouth to protest.  “You’re not going
in without a partner.  I know you’re a trained agent, but you’ll be putting yourself
in a vulnerable position.  You can’t fight back if you’re tied down.”

He must have caught my flicker of hesitation at the idea of being restrained, because
his countenance turned impossibly sterner.  “How far you go with Carter is up to you,
but he’s an experienced Dom and he will push you.  Your success will depend on you
playing your role convincingly.  I’m going to give you one last chance to change your
mind.”

“I want to do this.”  I could handle it.  My boss was right.  I didn’t have to go
farther with Carter than I wanted to.  I could just talk to him about the lifestyle. 
If he pressed for more, I would handle that as it came.  I certainly wasn’t going
to sleep with the man.  Even though I wouldn’t be doing it for money, doing it for
information was still a transaction of sorts, and I wasn’t a whore.

“All right then.  I’ll inform Miller of his assignment.”  Kennedy’s eyes narrowed. 
“And you
will
work with him as a partner.  It’s obvious you think you have something to prove, but
I’m not going to let your ego get either of you hurt.  Do you understand me, Silverman?”

“Of course, sir.”  My response was as stiff as my tensed muscles.  Had I really been
so transparent?  Yes, I had something to prove, but I didn’t have an
ego.
  If anything, Miller was the one with an ego.

Kennedy nodded.  “Then I’ll expect your full report on my desk in two weeks.  If you
find anything significant before then, notify me immediately.”  He gestured toward
the door in a clear dismissal.

“Yes, sir.”  I bit out the words as I turned to leave.

“And Silverman,” he added.  “You’ll have to practice being more convincing when it
comes to showing respect.”

I resisted the urge to shoot him the finger.

“Yes, sir,” I said with a saccharine smile.

He snorted.  “Carter has his work cut out for him.”

I turned quickly to hide my scowl.  As soon as I successfully completed this op, I
was going to request a transfer.  To a BDSM-free field office.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Silverman?”  Smith James’ voice was an aggressive
growl.

My breathing was already labored from the effort of beating the crap out of the Body
Opponent Bag, but I drew in a deeper breath to center myself as I turned to face my
fellow field agent.  I had known Smith long enough to recognize his don’t-fuck-with-me-you-won’t-like-the-consequences
tone.

I usually got along with him just fine.  When he wasn’t being a bully, that is.

Another Dom.
  God, I couldn’t take two steps in this building without running into one of them.

I raised a cool eyebrow at him as he stalked across the training room towards me. 
“I’m working out, James.  Do you have a problem with that?”

“What I have a problem with is your dumbshit plan to go undercover at Decadence.” 
Fury pulsed off him in waves that slapped up against me with almost physical force. 
His silver-blue eyes glowed, and his slightly curled dark hair was in disarray.  He
looked wild, dangerous.  The man was imposing, I would give him that.  He was six
feet, three inches of pure muscle, and he carried it with the grace of a man who knew
his own power.

“There’s no need to be an ass, James.”  Clayton Vaughn punched his friend none-too-gently
on the shoulder.  Out of the corner of my eye, I registered that Smith was scowling
at him, but all of my focus honed in on the gorgeous man who had captivated my thoughts
– and many of my late-night fantasies – for the last two years.  His electric blue
eyes sparked as he shot Smith an admonishing frown.  I couldn’t help fixating on the
twist of his full lips.

Clayton’s bearing wasn’t as potent as Smith’s, but he had his own sense of calm confidence
in his abilities.  His meticulously styled dark blond hair and clean shaven jaw only
accentuated that sense of controlled surety in his power.  He was noble and sweet
and he would kick the ass of anyone who tried to fuck with his friends.  And here
he was, coming to my defense like some goddamn perfect knight in shining armor.

I had to hold back a sigh of feminine admiration.  I had hoped that my attraction
to him would fade with time, since it clearly wasn’t reciprocated.  Clayton seemed
to view me with the affection he might afford a little sister; he had never seen me
as a woman.  But ever since he had been shot – on my watch, no less – my infatuation
had only increased.  The realization that I might have lost him forever had shaken
me to my core, even though I knew I didn’t stand a chance with the man.