Dangerous Lies

by A P Foote

  I keep my composure, schooling my features to not give myself away. He could be lying, trying to get me to expose myself, but I never even gave them or him any indication I was FBI. He scoffs, a smirk playing his mouth.

  “You can deny it all you want, pretty boy, but you know just as much as I do, he shouldn’t be in there.” I don’t say anything back, I’ve been made, at least I think I’ve been made.

  Nix turns away from me and leaves the hospital waiting room. I watch him leave, the giant patch on his back mocking me as he makes his exit.

  Fuck, what just happened?

  I pace the waiting room, waiting for… what? I have no idea. My phone has been excessively vibrating in my back pocket for the last twenty minutes and I’ve yet to look at it.

  Fuck it. I reach for my phone, pulling it out of my pocket and just as I do, a message pops up from Camden.

  Cam: What do you want me to do with Clyde?

  What do I want to do with him? If he isn’t cleared of the ag assault it’ll violate his probation. He’ll go to jail and its one less criminal riding around. On the other hand, he did save Kat, and the little minx is growing on me.

  I open the text and message back.

  Me: Clear him.

  The message reads as read but he doesn’t text back. Thank fuck because I don’t know what to say if he questions my decision.

  Scrolling through my missed call log, I have a dozen from the boss and about ten from my mother. I don’t want to deal with my mother right now, since dad went to prison, she’s been persistent on getting me back home and she knows that’s not going to happen.

  I decide against calling her, clicking the boss’s contact instead and waiting as it begins to ring.

  “Brooks, why haven’t you been answering my calls?” he barks into the phone.

  “I was asleep, sir, what’s going on?”

  The man breaths heavily into the phone, the sounds of rustling of papers in the background. “I know you’re not asleep, Casey. I got a phone call. Your files were pulled from an unknown source. Now, that could mean many things, but we are pulling you off the case. Pack your stuff you’re coming home,” he rushes, not wanting to explain what the deal is any further.

  He has to be mistaken. There is no way. If I had been really made, I would be dead. Besides, I can’t just leave.

  “And if I don’t come home?” I step lightly with my words, leaning my back against the wall. Waiting for a response is hell; silence has fallen over the call and I’m beginning to wonder who I should be more afraid of. “Sir?”

  “Does this have anything to do with that biker slut?”

  “She’s not a slut.” Before I could think the words just slip out, not in a normal tone either it was more of a growl. “It’s not about her.”

  “Yeah,” he half chuckles in my ear, “sure it’s not. I’m sorry to inform you, your position has been terminated effective immediately.”

  I run a hand through my hair and blow out a breath. What have I just done? I’m flushing my career down the drain for what? A woman who will more than likely break my heart?

  “Casey? he calls. “I suggest you stay out of the Agent’s way who takes your place.”

  The line goes dead, and he leaves nothing more than the dial tone from the landline he called me from, because that’s secure.

  “Shit,” I curse under my breath.

  I need to talk to Clyde.

  Clyde

  “I want to know who the fuck ordered that sorry ass hit on Kat!” I bellow, eyeing every man standing in the clubhouse right now. They all nod including Nix standing at my side. I make a point watching him longer than anyone else, throwing my head behind us for him to follow me.

  I make my way to the office with Nix close on my heels, and he closes the door behind us. “Get the fed here.” Just as I demand it the door opens and in walks Casey Brooks. “I want a million dollars.”

  Nothing happens except Nix and Cass giving me crazy looks. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Close the door.” I point. Cass, being the closest, closes it behind him. I stand to my full height and cross my arms across my broad chest. An intimidation tactic I like to use. Cass imitates me, a small curve lining his face. “Why are you in Bay Lake?”

  He quirks a brow. “Work.”

  My neck twitches from his obvious brazen attitude. Okay, smartass, “What kind of work?”

  He un-crosses his arms finding the leather chair in front of the desk to sit in, openly avoiding my question.

  Enough of the games.

  “I know you’re working for the FBI. What I don’t understand though, is why. We haven’t been on their radar for a while, so why now?”

  The shit bastard has the audacity to smirk at me. I don’t have time for these games.

  “Worked for the FBI.” He sits up straight, resting his arms against his muscular thighs. “My boss called me this morning, told me I was fired.”

  His acting skills are on point, unless he’s telling the truth. But what would be the reason they fired him? I mean I found him out but let’s be real, I’m me.

  “Why?” I question him, sitting back into my office chair. He’s quiet, no doubt choosing his answers wisely.

  “Told me I was made, which apparently they weren’t blowing smoke. They wanted me to return home and I told them no.” He blows out a breath, the weight of this secret leaving his shoulders.

  “So, you just what? Plan to stay in Bay Lake?”

  This guy has some balls, the only, and I mean only reason for him to stay here is Kat. He’s got no family here besides his brother who can also join him on the train home, and no business.

  But if he wants to play hardball, let’s play.

  “Okay, since you’re sticking around you can help find out who put the hit on Kat.” I shrug, lacing my fingers together and thumping them on my desk. “Then maybe we can compromise.” I give him a knowing look; he knows exactly what I’m fucking talking about.

  “Done.” He nods. Standing, he holds out his hand for me to take. I do the same pulling back my hand before taking it.

  “First, I need to know whose side you’re really on. My guys have a run to make this evening; I want you there.” I eye him warily, looking for any ticks he may have that gives him away.

  Nothing, the prick is stone faced.

  “Okay,” he says, sticking his hand out farther, ready to seal the deal. I take it this time, squeezing a little harder than I should. Game on, frat boy.

  Nix comes up behind him when I let go of his hand, slapping him on the back. “Be back here at eleven pm. Don’t be late, Casey boy.”

  Cass eyes my VP offering him a friendly smile before stepping out of his reach, uncomfortable with his touch and making his way to the exit. Something stops him with his hand hovering over the handle. He tilts his head to the side. “By the way, The Power ordered the hit. And my replacement will be in town soon. I’ll let you know who they send.”

  Replacement? Huh, having him around might not be so bad after all. As long he doesn’t interfere with mine and Kat’s relationship, we’re golden.

  Cass closes the door behind him without even so much as a glance back.

  “You heard him, right?” Nix asks, pointing to the door Cass walked out of. “The fucking Power ordered it.”

  “I heard him. Get me a meeting with their President.”

  “Aye,” Nix agrees, leaving me to myself while he makes the call.

  This fucking place is about to turn into a shit storm.

  Kat

  Come on eight o’clock. I slept most of the day from being exhausted with the night before, and even though the doctor said I was fine to sleep I caught myself waking up every hour or so. I’ve had concussions before, but this was a little different in the sense I was out, like out, out… for a while.

  Dalton didn’t have a problem, slept like a damn baby next to me. I tried really hard not to disturb him even though every time I moved, he snuggled in closer to me. It was nice.

/>   “So, what do you want to do when you bust out of this joint?” Dalton asks, leaning back in the plastic cushioned chair across from my bed.

  My throat is still killing me, but I figure if I whisper, I should be okay.

  “I don’t know.” I look up to the ceiling putting on my most serious face, then refocus on him. “It’s been so long since I’ve been out in the real world.”

  His face twists in an adorable joyous expression as he leans forward on his thighs. I feel so calm around Dalton, he’s down to earth and not pushy. There are no expectations with him, and we can just be ourselves.

  “I think I just want to go home.” Even that small amount of whispering is starting to burn my throat.

  “I don’t think that’s the best idea.” He stands, walking to my bed and perching on the end of it. “Clyde wants you at the club house.”

  His beautiful, blue eyes are remorseful when he says it, and I know he doesn’t want me there. I really don’t want to be there either but it’s probably the safest place for me for now.

  He pats my leg, leaving his hand on my foot. I enjoy being in his company and… I don’t want that to change. “Will you stay?”

  God damnit, that’s it, I can’t talk any more. I really fucking hope he doesn’t say no. I don’t have the voice to argue with him.

  “Yeah,” he agrees, flashing a panty dropping smile. You know I can say this over and over again, but I feel like it’s never going to come to fruition. I. Need. To. Get. Laid.

  A knock on the door has him standing from his seat straight to attention. It’s just the annoyingly chipper doctor. “Well, you’re all set. Here are the discharge papers, self-care papers and… a sticker.”

  A sticker? Dalton and I look at each other in bewilderment. Does he think I’m nine?

  “Thanks.” I exaggerate the word, reaching for the small sticky paper of a heart with a pulse inside.

  “Any who, I’ll let you get dressed and once you’re done you can skedaddle out of here.” The old man runs his fingers through the air and leaves the room.

  Dalton watches the door long after the good doctor leaves. Licking his lips he says, “This town is so weird sometimes.”

  Who’s he telling? I grew up here and had to deal with all kinds of crazy. Fuck, I’m one of the crazies!

  I roll my eyes, sliding to the edge of the bed trying to shove down this stupid, assless hospital gown to cover the goods.

  “Need a hand?” he asks. Not waiting for an answer no, he automatically wraps his arm around my waist taking the brunt of my weight so I can stand.

  Fuck, my ribs are killing me. It’s a constant stabbing pain when I stand, and even more harsh when I breathe. Every breath is acupuncture of the lungs.

  “I’ll help you to the bathroom,” he offers selflessly, helping me one step at a time as we turtle our way to the door. He opens it and guides me in and to the sink. His hands glide down my skin, temporarily distracting me from the pain.

  I grip the sink for balance while he grabs my clothes from the table by the bed. “Do umm… do you need help?”

  Our eyes dance in indecisiveness, his breaking the waltz and jump nervously between me and my clothes. He’s really going to be nervous when I tell him I want a shower.

  “Shower,” I whisper.

  Dalton’s face cherries and he snickers like a little schoolboy. “You’re really trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  I smile, carefully stepping away from the sink. All he has to do is make sure I don’t fall. Easy peasy.

  Dalton steps around me, making sure not to bump my bruised body. He turns the shower nobs, the head springing to life, shooting an enticing stream of water onto the tiled floor. His hand interrupts the stream, checking the temperature. “Should be warm enough.” He steps away, drying his hand on the towel placed above the sink. I watch each of his movements.

  Poor guy, he thinks he’s uncomfortable now?

  These stupid hospital gowns leave your ass exposed so I buttoned mine up the front. He’s still awkwardly making himself busy with the towel above the sink when I start unbuttoning the dress. My hands begin to shake, starting on the first button. My nerves have me… anxious. I don’t think I’ve actually ever been this nervous undressing in front of a man before.

  It unsnaps with ease, so I make for the second one. When I get to the third, my hands are completely shot, my breathing ragged from the stress of standing and dealing with the biting pain from my ribs. Warm, tattooed hands surround mine, and I look up to find Dalton’s sinfully gorgeous body standing in front of me, his alluring eyes boring into mine.

  My heart leaps into my throat, those striking blue eyes are even more mesmerizing this close, and this is the closest we’ve been. Our breath mingles together, our bodies inches apart. Pain, shmame, I’d let him take me here and now if he would.

  “I’ll help,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. They don’t wander down my body or even try to sneak a peek. The simple fact that he is trying to preserve my modesty makes me crush harder, making him even more attractive in my eyes. But, is it wrong that I kind of want him to?

  He gets to the last button, keeping the front of the gown closed with his hand, and turns me around, mildly gripping my shoulders to make sure I make it past the curtain without busting my ass. He makes sure I’m not gonna fall before sealing me inside… well, closing the curtain but it feels like I’m being sealed in. I’m not a fan of tight spaces.

  Peeling the dress open, the scratchy cotton slides to the ground, pooling at my feet. Dalton reaches through the slit of the hanging fabric and once again his warm hands encase my shoulders to keep me from cracking my skull on the tile. My heart leaps into my throat when one of his rough hands grazes the outside of my breast before wrenching it away. “I’m so fucking sorry; I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay, D,” I quietly interrupt him. He relaxes and continues guiding me under the spray, leaving me to my own devices. The warm water feels so fucking good against my skin, loosening my sore muscles and taking away some of the inflammation in my throat.

  “You okay in there? There’s something for you to hold on to?”

  “Mhm,” I answer, letting the water run down my face, washing the makeup and whatever blood lingered and stained my skin.

  Twenty minutes later under Dalton’s constant concern, I finish cleaning up. Pulling the curtain back, Dalton turns just in time to catch a glimpse of me. He’s shell-shocked, standing there with his eyes glued to my chest. His face twists in anger and I suddenly regret exposing my body.

  He obviously doesn’t like how I look, I mean, what else could it be? Shit, what if he thinks I’m slutty for doing it? Great just another label I needed.

  My knees shake and I hiss in response to covering myself. The stretching sends jolts of pain into my abdomen. He moves fast, gently gripping my arms, keeping me from hitting the ground.

  “Sorry, I should have warned you I was coming out I just… I don’t know what I was thinking and now I’m just rambling on and on and on—”

  “Stop, you’re fine, I just…”

  “Are you… gay?” I quietly interrupt him, looking into his eyes for any tell if that’s why he made the face he did.

  “What? No, why would you think that?” His nose scrunches at my question. He tries to hide it when he turns to retrieve the towel off the sink.

  “You made a face… at me when I opened the curtain.”

  He inhales sharply before blowing out the breath. “That wasn’t… I wasn’t… shit.” He wraps the towel around me securing it to my front. I look at my feet not wanting him to see my embarrassment, when his finger grazes beneath my chin, tilting my face to look at his. “Kat, you are beautiful. The black bruises outlining your ribs caused that face.”

  I nod grabbing onto his arm for support. My heart swells with love at how much this man cares for me even for the short time we’ve known each other.

  Dalton grabs my clothes from the table in the bathroom where
he put them when we first walked in. Slowly, he helps me dress, his hand every so often grazing different parts of my body, sending chills up my spine. The skin to skin contact sends me reeling every time. He’s so gentle, but underneath his respect for me lies an animal waiting for the chance to be freed.

  “You ready?” he asks, gathering the bag of dirty clothes off the bed.

  “Yeah,” I squeak, limping toward the door to avoid any jerking movements. A wheelchair sits outside the door. Standard protocol. The nurse must have left it there for me.

  Sitting in the chair I wait for Dalton. He comes behind me, gripping the handles. “You know this chair could be a lot of fun under different circumstances.”