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Indebted

Page 6

by Sharon C. Cooper


  But now Journey was on his radar and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his feelings for her. Hell, he couldn’t even pinpoint when their attraction had grown more intense.

  She should’ve pushed me away.

  Getting adjusted to her new role in the district attorney’s office, and knowing that he was constantly under scrutiny in his department and now hers, Journey had more to lose than him. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did anything to soil her reputation. And he had no intention of letting anyone else hurt her either. Namely Hall.

  Laz pushed away from the building and took one last puff on his cigarette before putting it out. He needed to take care of Hall, make sure he thought twice about putting his hands on any woman.

  Pulling the burner phone from his pocket, Laz stepped into the shadows of a storefront that was closed and dialed a number he used for special occasions.

  “Yeah, who dis?” The gruff voice on the other end answered.

  “It’s me. I need a favor.”

  Laz was met with silence at first. “I think you’ve used up all of your favors, detective.”

  “You think so?” Laz asked, his tone deadly, not in the mood for bullshit.

  He had helped this guy out of more jams of the criminal nature than he could count. The last time was keeping his little brother out of jail. Laz knew he’d need his contact’s special services one day, and this was one of those times he was glad he knew people in low places.

  After a long pause, his contact asked, “Whatcha need?”

  “I need you to pay someone a visit. Someone who roughed up a woman.”

  “Damn, man. Should’ve started with that. You know how I feel about assholes who abuse women.”

  Laz gave him the information he’d gathered on Gabriel Hall, as well as instructed him where he could find a photo of the guy. “Be sure to do some major damage to his face, but don’t kill him and don’t get caught.”

  His contact grunted. As if him getting caught was a joke.

  “Let me put it a different way,” Laz continued. “If you get caught, you’re on your own.”

  He disconnected and walked around the corner, tossing the phone into a sewer drain along the way. The last thing he needed was to have anything linking him to the ass-whoopin’ Hall had coming.

  Fifteen minutes later, Laz brought his beer bottle to his lips and took a healthy gulp as he scanned Club Masquerade’s rooftop deck. Standing at a tall cocktail table, he had a good view of the city as well as the patrons. Some danced to the latest song by Drake while others drank, laughed, and chatted at tables set up around the large space. Considering the day had been in the high eighties, it had cooled significantly. But that didn’t stop the scantily-clad women from strutting around as if it was ninety degrees outside.

  “Here you go, love.” A server set another beer on the table.

  “I didn’t order that.” Laz slid the bottle toward her. He was off duty, but rarely did he consume more than one beer while out.

  “The redhead over there ordered it for you.” She gestured with a nod to the group of women sitting two tables away that Laz had seen earlier.

  “All right, thanks.” He lifted the bottle in salute to the woman who was now smiling at him. He had a type. Red fit the look with her cute face, curvaceous body and long, shapely legs. That’s what he’d remembered most about her from when he saw her outside minutes ago.

  Eyeing her now, she was definitely pretty, but he felt nothing. No desire to kiss her. No desire to have her in his bed. No desire to have those long legs wrapped around his waist. Nothing. And he knew why.

  Journey. The woman had ruined him for others and he hadn’t even gotten her into bed yet.

  “And I never will,” he mumbled, mentally reminding himself of why.

  “I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

  Laz glanced over his shoulder and then stood as Hamilton sidled up next to him. They shook hands and exchanged a one-armed hug, pounding each other on the back.

  “You’ve only been here a few minutes and already women are buying you drinks.”

  “Hey, I didn’t initiate the attention.”

  “Yeah, you rarely do,” Hamilton grunted and accepted a ginger ale from the same server. “It’s those damn eyes. I guess they’re still working for you.”

  Laz grinned. “Don’t hate, man. I can’t help it if the female gender finds me irresistible.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Hamilton Crosby was not only Laz’s best friend, but he’d also been his college roommate at Georgia State. They both majored in criminology and upon graduating from college, had joined Atlanta’s police force. Hamilton had left the department years ago, and now was a managing partner of Supreme Security. It was a personal security agency that was quickly gaining notoriety across the country.

  “So, what’s going on with you?” Hamilton asked and sipped his drink, eyeing Laz skeptically.

  “What? Can’t a guy just call up his old pal to hang out?”

  “Yeah, but usually that happens every couple of weeks for most people. I haven’t heard from you in over a month. I had to call Ashton at the station to see if you were still alive. Where I come from, friends…brothers keep in touch, especially with the type of work we both do.”

  He was right. Neither of them were big phone people, but there was no excuse for not keeping in contact. There was a time when a week didn’t go by that they didn’t get together for a drink, shoot pool, or play poker.

  “Sorry about that, man. Been doing a little undercover work and putting in some long hours. You know how it is.” Laz shrugged. “These days I’m just trying to keep my head down and stay out of trouble.”

  “Because of a woman?”

  Laz sputtered out his beer, coughing when the liquid went down wrong. “Nah, man. What’s wrong with you? Nobody said anything about a woman. I’ve just been busy.”

  “If you’re trying to stay out of trouble, there has to be a woman involved. And not just any woman. Someone who… Well, I’ll be damned,” Hamilton said, wonder in his voice. “It’s serious, isn’t it? You and the ADA. Is that why you finally called me back? You need to talk it out.”

  Laz sighed roughly and shook his head. “I’m not doing this with you tonight, Ham. So drop it. Just because you’ve found love doesn’t mean it’s in the cards for the rest of us. How is Dakota anyway?”

  Hamilton had recently married Dakota Sherrod, a stuntwoman—well, former stuntwoman. After a serious accident, the adrenaline junky had given up her dangerous job and slowed down a little. Now she spent her days running a dojo, putting her black belt in karate to good use by teaching martial arts.

  “Dakota is fine, and though she’s still waiting for you to RSVP to our wedding reception invitation, I told her to count you in.”

  Laz nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  “I take it the new ADA has seriously gotten to you, huh? Let me guess, you’re tired of fighting the attraction.”

  Laz looked at him in amazement. There were advantages to having friends who knew you well, but those same advantages could also be disadvantages. Like now. His friend still had the ability to read him.

  “What? Don’t look so surprised. You forget, I know you. Besides, this past year you’ve found a way to bring her name into every conversation. It was only a matter of time that you stepped to her.”

  “I haven’t stepped to her.” Well, not exactly, Laz thought silently.

  “If that’s true, then maybe you should. Because right now you’re wound tighter than a bowline knot. Why not just hit that and—”

  “Chill, man. She’s not that type of woman,” he practically growled, unable to keep the irritation from his voice. He’d admit, when it came to women, he wasn’t the lovey-dovey-dating type of guy, but if he had Journey, he had a feeling it would be different.

  No, he knew it would be different.

  Hamilton remained silent before saying, “Should I tell Dakota to put you down for
a plus-one regarding the reception? I know Journey means something to you. If—”

  “Whether she does or not, nothing’s going to happen between us. She and I…” Laz shook his head without finishing. He needed to keep reminding himself why it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with her.

  “I’ve never known you to back down from something you want, especially when it comes to women. Why now?”

  Laz released a humorless laugh. “You have to ask? Man, I’m a fuck-up. The last thing she needs is someone who’ll tarnish her life, or worse, get her killed. Nah, I’m keeping my distance.”

  “You did not get Gwenn killed.”

  “Didn’t I? If it weren’t for my need for justice, Gwenn would still be alive. Now I’m done talking about Journey, Gwenn, and women period. I just came here to have a drink and catch up with you. That’s it.”

  “Fine, for now. But I’m not done questioning you about that fine ADA.”

  Laz chuckled and shook his head, knowing this conversation was far from over. Back in his cop days, Hamilton had been a beast when it came to interrogating a perp, always getting the answers he wanted.

  For the next hour, they talked, catching up on each other’s lives. Hearing about his godson’s latest shenanigans had Laz laughing out loud. Dominic, Hamilton’s son, a kid who was easy to love with his sharp mind, intuition, and ability to be funny without trying, was the son Laz wished he had.

  Conversation continued to flow easily as they talked sports, something Laz didn’t get to watch as often as he’d like, and then they discussed work. He found it refreshing to talk about some of his cases with someone who could understand the frustration of the job. He also knew he didn’t have to worry about anything he said getting out to anyone else.

  “Why are you still on the force?” Hamilton asked after silence fell between them. “I can tell your heart isn’t in it anymore. Between the IA investigations and suspensions, I have to ask. Why keep putting up with the bullshit?”

  Lately, Laz had been asking himself the same question. There was a time that he loved his job. Granted, there were other jobs he could do using his current skills and his degree, but taking out bad guys was what he knew.

  His attention went back to the people on the rooftop. Club Masquerade was owned by the Bennett triplets who had inherited the business from their parents a few years ago. It was a good gig they had going and within a short amount of time, they’d made the club into a hot spot for not just those who were local, but for those visiting the city as well.

  “How do you like working for Mason Bennett?” Laz asked Hamilton. Mason was not only part owner of the club, but also part owner of Supreme Security Agency-Atlanta.

  “It’s cool, man. I’m only at the club occasionally now that Supreme is growing.”

  The agency, which offered protection for entertainers, corporations, and government agencies, had grown to the point of almost doubling its clientele list within the last year. Hamilton played a big role in that, proving that the position with the company suited him. And now that he was married, Laz had noticed he even seemed happier…and more settled.

  Feelings Laz had been longing for recently.

  “You know, if you’re ever looking for a change of pace, Mase is always in the market for a few good people,” Hamilton said. “A chunk of his team is made of Atlanta’s finest, and you and I both know you’re the best there is.”

  Laz chuckled. “Flattery. Wow.”

  “Hey, I’m just telling the truth. You work for Atlanta PD. Bust your ass daily to wipe the streets clean of scumbags and where has it gotten you? Most of them might spend a few years behind bars, but many are back on the streets before you can even collar the next crook.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Laz grunted, finishing off his second beer and handing the empty bottle to a server walking by. “Seems the harder I work, the tougher it is to get a conviction. Most days I feel like I’m wasting my time.”

  “Like I asked before. Why are you still there?”

  “If not me out here, then who, Ham? The streets are getting worse by the day. That’s where I’m needed. Besides, I can’t let what happened to Gwenn happen to anyone else.”

  Hamilton shook his head. “Laz, you’re just one person. You can’t do it alone. Besides, you took care of Ray and the Apostle Kings. You got justice for her death. It’s time to move on.”

  They’d had similar conversations on occasion for the last nine years. From the moment Laz found her dead in their house, a needle filled with heroin lying next to her, he’d been on a mission. Not many days went by that he didn’t relive that dark time of his life.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let those memories go.”

  “Yeah, I know, but even if you can’t let the memories go, you can leave the job behind. Actually, it might do you some good to finally start fresh and make some changes in your life.”

  Hamilton’s mention of making changes made Laz immediately think of Journey. Could he change? Could he turn his life and reputation around and possibly be the type of man to get and keep a woman like her?

  Hamilton pulled out his wallet and a card, then handed it to Laz. “You can make twice as much money providing personal security as you make on the force. When you’re ready to move on, give Mason a call. I know he has a spot for you.”

  Laz skimmed the business card. Supreme Security Agency in gold lettering at the top and Mason Bennett’s contact information below it. Laz had done well for himself financially, living below his means and investing most of his salary. But making more money definitely wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  This wasn’t the first time Hamilton had tried recruiting him, but it was the first time Laz was seriously considering joining the team.

  Laz’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. A quick glance at the screen and a twinge of anticipation gripped him. A text from Journey.

  Can you meet me in thirty minutes?

  Little did she know he’d meet her anytime anywhere for anything. He typed a quick response.

  Just say where. I’ll be there.

  After getting her response, he stood. “Ham, it’s been real, but I gotta go. If you’re cool with it, let Dom know he and I are hanging out tomorrow night. I’ve missed my little buddy.”

  “All right, and it might not hurt to get his opinion on Journey. Dakota insists that it was because of the kid that she gave me a shot.”

  Laz chuckled, remembering how Dominic acquired Dakota’s phone number when he and Hamilton first met her on a movie set. His godson had recently turned ten, but acted as if he was twenty years older. A good judge of character, Dominic was a charmer. Women fell in love with him immediately and the kid had made a good wingman for Laz in the past.

  Yeah, maybe he would introduce Dom to Journey one day.

  “It was good seeing you, man,” Hamilton said, following Laz to the stairs that led back into the main part of the club. “And think about what I said. It might be time for a change.”

  “I hear you.” It was definitely time for a change and for the first time in a long time, Laz looked forward to his future.

  Chapter Nine

  A half an hour later, Laz sat at Journey’s breakfast bar with a hot cup of coffee, trying to make sense of what she was telling him.

  Maybe his brain was tired since it was almost eleven-thirty and it had been an exhausting day. Normally, when he stopped by a woman’s house this time of night it was a booty call, but he kept reminding himself that this was Journey. And this was business.

  “Journey, if you’re talking about internal affairs, IA has been busting my ass for years. I can handle them, and I hate that’s what’s been bothering you.”

  When she had first told him to watch his back—something he always did—Laz hadn’t been sure what to think. He’d admit to being sick of IA harassing him, but they didn’t dish out anything he wasn’t used to.

  “Laz, that’s not it. I—I heard the DA’s office is investigating you and one of yo
ur cases.”

  Unease crept up his back and the coffee cup stalled near his mouth before he slowly lowered it to the counter. Questions ran rampant through his mind and he wasn’t sure which ones to ask first. Being investigated by IA was one thing, but being investigated by her office was on a different level.

  “Laz…”

  “What case?” he asked, a little harsher than intended.

  She hesitated and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. He knew he was asking a lot, assuming whatever was going on was in the early stages. But Laz needed as much information as possible to prepare himself for whatever was coming.

  “Journey, I need you to tell me everything you can. I promise you, it stops right here.”

  “I heard that our office is reopening the Monsuli case because…the DA was informed that some of the evidence had been planted.”

  “What? That’s bullshit!” He leaped from the barstool, startling her. “So all of a sudden they decide the evidence is no good? I’m not buying that.”

  “Monsuli’s lawyer is trying to get the original case overturned. If that happens—”

  “Monsuli walks,” Laz finished, annoyance roaring through his body. He ran his hand over his mouth and paced near the kitchen. Memories of that arrest and the hours afterward floated to the front of his mind.

  “They think you planted evidence, Laz.”

  “I’ll admit, I’ve done some dirty shit over the years, but I wouldn’t intentionally jeopardize my case.”

  Journey said nothing and anxiousness twisted in Laz’s gut. Did she believe him? Even if there could never be anything between them, what she thought of him mattered.

  “Anyone who really knows me knows that I’d do almost anything to put a criminal away, especially if I knew without a doubt that they were guilty. But this…”

  Journey exhaled loudly as if she’d been holding her breath. “I know, and I believe you had nothing to do with tainted evidence. But Laz, this is serious. Depending on what comes of the investigation, the DA can press charges. You could do time.”

  He just stared at her. He had busted his ass for the city for the last seventeen years, and he’d be damned if he went to jail for some shit like this.

 

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