Point Blank (Love Undercover Book 6)

by LK Shaw

  Point Blank

  Love Undercover, Book 6

  L. K. Shaw

  Point Blank, Love Undercover, Book 6

  © 2021 by LK Shaw

  Cover design © 2021 by PopKitty Designs

  Editor: Dayna Hart, Hart to Heart Editing

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book, with the exception of brief quotations for book reviews or critical articles, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  The Devil I Don’t Know

  Prologue

  A Birthday Spanking

  Acknowledgments

  Book List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Hey, Garrison, you bang that chick from Lucky’s yet?” Barrett Sorensen’s voice rang out over the din of other conversations going on in the squad room.

  “Almost every night this week,” I called back. “She started getting a little too clingy though, wanting to spend the night and shit, so I managed to lose her number.”

  In the seat opposite me, Pablo Rodriguez shook his head with a look of disgust. He’s never fully appreciated what it means to be a bachelor, and all the fine women he could choose from. I swore the man had a stick up his ass.

  I’d thought him hooking up with that hot, young single mom would have removed it, but in actuality, he seemed worse.

  Maybe, for a brief moment, I’d been a little envious of their relationship, but I snapped out of that real quick.

  Commitments were for suckers. Chicks were dispensable. Once I got bored with one, I found another. It wasn’t difficult. Some liked to play hard to get, but that only made the reward of finally getting them to fall at my feet that much sweeter.

  “A few of us are heading over to WestEnd after shift. You coming?” Sorensen asked.

  “Hell, yeah, I am. There was this waitress giving me the eye the last time we were there, but I got called out, so I couldn’t get her number. I have no intention of missing out again. The ass on that woman is like a work of art.” I mimicked a chef’s kiss. “Pure peach perfection.”

  “Jesus, Oliver,” Pablo scolded with a sneer.

  I sent him a look of innocence. “What? I can’t help that you missed it. Besides, don’t be jealous. You’ve got yourself a—”

  “Stop right there,” he snapped. “Whatever the fuck it is you’re about to say, shut it. I don’t want to hear a goddamn word out of your mouth about her.”

  “Okay, okay.” I held my hands up. “So touchy.”

  Pablo might have still been a little pissed at me for making a move on his woman. Several moves in fact. I’d put her in the ‘playing hard to get’ category, so I’d been persistent. Granted, at the time, I didn’t know they were together, but he damn sure knew how to hold a grudge, even though I’d apologized.

  There was another reason I was more than ready to go out for some beers with the guys. I needed a distraction from the things I’d witnessed yesterday. What had started out as a drug bust of Los Lobos, the biggest Hispanic gang in Chicago, turned into a horrific discovery of sexual assault and trafficking. Naked women, collared and chained inside walled-off rooms in the basement of the house we’d raided, most of them high on dope.

  “Garrison, you in here?” A voice hollered from the other side of the room.

  I glanced over at one of the rookie patrol officers I’d seen around, but whose name I didn’t know, standing in the doorway of the squad room. Rising from my seat with a chin tilt, I waved him over.

  “What’s up?”

  “McCrary from the front just called and said some woman named Charity wants to see you. Wouldn’t give a last name or the reason she was here, aside from it being personal,” the officer said.

  My brain repeated the name several times trying to place it. Who the fuck was Charity? I didn’t know anyone by that name.

  “Damn, Garrison, now you have women chasing you down at work. What’s your secret?” Sorensen asked.

  I flashed my signature cocky grin. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret. I’ll give you a hint though…you ain’t got it.”

  He flipped me off while those around us, including Rodriguez, roared with laughter.

  Charity.

  The smile fell from my face, but I quickly replaced it. No fucking way. It couldn’t be her.

  I made my way through the squad room with an easygoing stride, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, while the laughter died down and everyone resumed their regular conversations or went back to filling out reports. The minute I moved out of their field of vision, my steps quickened.

  My fingers gripped the doorknob, and I steeled myself against who might be on the other side. Pulling it open, I stood there for a moment and took in one of the women we’d rescued the day before. This time, she wasn’t naked and bleeding.

  Her shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair still lay in a tangled mess, although it did seem like she’d tried to tame it. She wore a too-big shirt that barely clung to one shoulder and was on the cusp of sliding off it and a pair of faded jeans. Her bare feet slapped against the tiled floor as she trekked a short path back and forth. What the hell was she doing here?

  “Charity?”

  She spun in my direction and nearly lost her balance but quickly righted herself. Before I could stop my feet from moving, I stood in front of her, panning the room to make sure no one was paying us any attention. I met her gaze.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. For a second time, I glanced down at her bare feet and back up to her face. “Where are your shoes?”

  Ocean blue eyes latched onto mine. “You’re the only person I trust. The only person that makes me feel safe after everything they did to me. I’m scared, and I don’t have anywhere to go.” Her voice broke, and a garbled noise emerged from her throat, despite her attempt to swallow it. “I need your help. Please, Oliver.”

  For Christ’s sake. Gently gripping Charity’s upper arm, I tugged her over to the corner and away from any prying ears. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I told you, I don’t have any place to go.” She wrenched her arm out of my grasp in a fierce display that contrasted with her pleading tone only seconds ago.

  “Why can
’t you go home?”

  Those aqua-colored eyes darted away from mine and a faint dusting of pink colored her cheeks. She shoved her hands in her pockets and shuffled nervously in place.

  “Charity?” I nearly growled.

  With a heavy sigh, she looked at me again, this time with a slight upward tilt to her chin and a proud straightening of her shoulders. “I don’t have a home. Haven’t for over two years.”

  She stared stonily at me, a muscle clenching near her jaw, as if challenging me, daring me even, to pity her.

  Fuck. I ran a hand through my hair, before dropping it to my side. What the hell was I supposed to do? What did she want me to do? I didn’t mean to be callous, but how was this my problem?

  “Look, Charity, I’m not sure why you came to me. Don’t you have friends you could stay with?”

  Her entire body vibrated with emotion. Anger? Fear? I couldn’t tell, but it was powerful. She grabbed my hand in both of hers. Her palms were sweat-dampened and trembled. Fear, it would seem.

  “I don’t have anyone. Please, I’ll do whatever you want if you’ll just help me.” She raised my hand and laid it against her chest at the same time she took a step closer. A mildly unpleasant scent hit me. The heartbeat beneath my fingers raced out of control.

  It took a second for her words to make sense, but as soon as they did, I jerked my hand out of her grasp with a curse and widened the gap between us. I stared into her eyes. A wild, nearly unidentifiable emotion shone in them. I recognized it though. Desperation. Fuck.

  “Go sit over there.” I pointed to a row of chairs pushed against the far wall, shadows casting a darkened hue over the threadbare fabric that had seen better days. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Hope flared in those blue orbs, brightening them with an almost unnatural light. I shook off the unsettled feeling in my gut. This was such a bad idea. Of all the bad ideas I’d had in my life—and there had been plenty—this one had to be the worst. Before I could change my mind, I spun around, not waiting to see if Charity followed my instruction, and headed back toward the squad room.

  Instead of entering, I bypassed it completely, all the while hoping no one stopped me to ask any questions. I stopped in front of the Captain’s office. I knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  He glanced up from his computer, peering over the top of his glasses. “What is it, Garrison?” He seemed annoyed by my presence—as usual. He hated people bothering him unless it was important.

  “I’ve had a personal emergency come up, and I need to take a couple days off,” I said, making sure to keep my tone as a statement and not a question. Timidity annoyed Cap more than anything.

  “Fine, as long as your reports are turned in on time, and you don’t fuck anything up on the Los Lobos-Morales case.”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Quickly, I made a beeline to the locker rooms and grabbed my keys and wallet. Then, for the second time, I headed out to the lobby. Only my luck didn’t hold up on the return trip. Sorensen entered the hallway just as I was passing the squad room.

  “Who was the chick?” he asked with a smirk. “Hopefully nobody showing up with a request for paternity.”

  I forced out a laugh and kept moving. “No way, man, I keep that shit wrapped up tight.”

  “You still coming out for beers with us?”

  “Sorry, something came up,” I blew him off before disappearing around the corner.

  I reached the door and glanced over my shoulder to make sure neither Sorensen nor anyone else had followed me. Nothing but empty hallway. I breathed out a sigh of relief and then pulled in a bracing one before opening the door. A quick glance confirmed Charity had made her way over to the chairs. She’d even taken a seat, albeit on the very edge of it, and her leg bounced an impatient beat.

  Her gaze also didn’t settle on any one thing. It darted around nervously and her fingers were tapping another anxious tune. Her head jerked in my direction as though sensing my eyes on her, and she jumped to her feet.

  “Let’s go.” I didn’t give her time to speak or react. She either followed me or she didn’t.

  Chapter 2

  I had to practically run to keep up with Oliver’s long-legged stride. He didn’t slow his pace. There was anger in his steps. Hell, in his whole body. He slammed the front door of the police station open with the palm of his hand, not even bothering to hold it for me, and barreled down the steps.

  Sweat beaded across my forehead, and my feet were killing me as I followed him through the parking lot, until he stopped at a royal blue Dodge Charger. There was the chirp of locks being disengaged and the headlights blinked twice.

  “Get in,” he said.

  I sent Oliver a glare, tired of his biting, two-word commands, but he didn’t even glance my way before he slid into the front seat and started the vehicle. Worried he’d leave without me, I quickly opened the door and threw myself inside.

  Out of my periphery, I observed my reluctant chauffeur. His knuckles turned white as he clenched and unclenched his fists on the steering wheel. A muscle twitched along his jaw, and his eyes remained fixed forward, never once glancing in my direction. We rode in silence until I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too heavy. “Where are we going?”

  “You get two days,” Oliver said, his tone sharp.

  I blinked in confusion. “Two days for what?”

  Finally, he turned his head in my direction. “To figure out where you’re going to go.”

  His eyes went back to the road while I shrunk in my seat. What did he mean, figure it out? He was supposed to help me. Keep me safe.

  The buzzing and itching was beginning along my arms. I ran my hands up and down them, trying to alleviate the sensation. It always happened when the anxiety and panic were becoming more than I could handle. I ground my teeth to give my mind something else to focus on. When that didn’t help, I started counting backwards from a hundred.

  The busy city streets and skyscrapers slowly grew smaller in the sideview mirror and soon we entered a more residential area. I still had no idea where we were headed.

  On my third cycle of counting, we pulled in front of a row of connected two-story townhouses in a middle-class neighborhood in an area of the city that was completely unfamiliar.

  Oliver threw the car in park and exited the vehicle. I got out as well and hurried along behind him up the walk. He opened the rust-colored front door of one of the middle units and went inside, leaving it open. I followed him in and then closed the door behind me.

  He tossed his keys on the coffee table and shrugged out of his shoulder holster, hanging it on a brushed metal hook on the wall next to the stairs. My feet remained frozen where they were as I took the place in.

  It was most definitely a bachelor pad, even if surprisingly clean and well-kept. Grays, blues, and blacks were everywhere from the plush, black leather couch to the abstract painting that hung on the wall behind it.

  The biggest flat screen TV I’d ever seen hung opposite the sofa. Beneath it was a black entertainment center with a gaming console tucked in one of the alcoves. A Blu-ray player was in another one, while the rest were filled with games and movies. Square surround-sound speakers were mounted from the ceiling in all four corners of the room. I hadn’t pegged Oliver for a gamer or movie buff. Then again, I knew nothing about him.

  “Are you finished gawking?”

  My eyes snapped to meet his frosty green ones. He stood with those colorfully tattooed, muscular arms crossed. Arms that had held me and comforted me. Arms that had made me feel safe and secure for the first time in a long time. Longer than I cared to remember. I blinked and refocused my gaze on the tight features of his face. I nodded.

  “Like I said, you have two days. You can stay here while you figure out where you’re going to go. Call whoever you need to call. Make arrangements. Once you’ve got a place to stay, I’ll take you there.”

  I had forty-eight hou
rs to convince him to let me stay a little longer. To make him understand that I didn’t have anyone to call. There were no friends. No family. I was alone in this world.

  “Thank you,” I told him, not knowing what else to say.

  He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. I’m not happy about this.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I understand.”

  “There’s some food in the fridge and in the pantry. Help yourself to whatever. I suppose I should show you where everything is.”

  Oliver led the way up the stairs, the third one from the bottom creaking beneath our weight. “The bathroom’s here. There are clean towels and washcloths under the sink. There should be some soap or body wash, as well as shampoo, in the cabinet above the toilet.”

  We moved further down the hall and stopped in front of a small bedroom. He gestured me inside. “You can sleep in here. If you need more blankets, they’re in the closet at the end of the hall. Same with extra pillows.”

  Oliver’s eyes scanned me from head to toe. His look wasn’t one of a sexual nature. It was more like I was a bug he was inspecting through a microscope. It was detached and clinical.

  “I don’t suppose you have any other clothes?” He asked with an aggrieved tone.

  As though I didn’t have a care in the world, I shrugged and waved my hands up and down my body. “What you see is what you get. Oh, I do have these,” I exclaimed, proudly pulling my bright, and brand new, yellow socks, courtesy of the hospital I’d left a few short hours ago, out of my back pocket with a fancy ta-da flourish.