Perfect For Me

by Lexy Timms

  Perfect For Me

  By Lexy Timms

  Undercover Series

  Copyright 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2015 by Lexy Timms

  Undercover Series

  Perfect For Me

  Book 1

  US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/

  UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/

  Book 2

  Coming December/Jan 2015/16

  US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/

  UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/

  Description:

  They say love comes in all forms.

  The city of Pittsburgh keeps its streets safe, partly thanks to Lt. Grady Rivers. The police officer is fiercely intelligent who specializes in undercover operations. It is this set of skills that are sought by New York’s finest. Grady is thrown from his hometown onto the New York City underworld in order to stop one of the largest drug rings in the northeast. The NYPD task him with uncovering the identity of the organization’s mysterious leader, Dean. It will take all of his cunning to stop this deadly drug lord.

  Danger lurks around every corner and comes in many shapes. While undercover, he meets a beauty named Lara. An equally intelligent woman and twice as fearless, she works for a local drug dealer who has ties to the organization. Their sorted pasts have these two become close, and soon they develop feelings for one another. But this is not a “Romeo and Juliet” love story, as the star-crossed lovers fight to survive the deadly streets. Grady treads the thin line between the love he feels for her, and his duties as an officer. Will he get in too deep?

  Contents

  Undercover Series

  Description:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Free Excerpt of THE BOSS

  Managing the Bosses Series

  More by Lexy Timms:

  Heart of the Battle Series

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  Lexy Timms Facebook Page:

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  Lexy Timms Website:

  http://lexytimms.wix.com/savingforever

  Chapter 1

  “Thank you, Pittsburgh!” a long-haired rocker screams through the speaker. His voice strains and cracks from his bellowing. “We are Former Legion!”

  The cry is answered by a roar of a hundred people jumping up and down for him and the rest of the band. Behind the lead singer, a drummer is elevated on a platform so the crowd can see him. He throws his hands up in the air, crossing his drumsticks in an “X” formation. On either side of the singer, the guitarist and bass guitarist simply bow their heads. Once the crowd returns to silence, the drummer smacks his sticks together, creating a steady beat for his bandmates to play to. He slams down on the pedal to thrum the base drum. Then, he starts smacking the others in the offbeat. The bass player joins in, followed by the guitarist with a chord. Once the music starts, the singer joins in with the words, but his voice is raspy from screaming. The crowd answers with applause and more earsplitting cheers, recognizing the song as a favorite.

  The weather is perfect for this afternoon day at the park. Hanging in the sky is the burning July sun. Luckily, a breeze carries mist from the merging three rivers, cooling the crowd along with others spending their day in the park. A grassy field stretches across a peninsula-like land that has rivers on either side, flowing into the third. Far from the concert are regular goers of the park. Some toss a Frisbee while others have brought their dogs for a bit of running, and then there are a few who are lying on beach towels to soak up the rays. Meanwhile, the crowd for the concert hugs the fountain at the edge of the peninsula, spraying cool mist.

  At the base of the fountain, a large group has gathered more than to keep cool. While most of them are there for the concert, there are a few that have their attention away from the screaming band up on the stage. One man sits on the ledge of the fountain, completely ignoring the music. He looks to be a college student, judging from his age. Yet, he dresses as if he were homeless. His blue jeans are tattered around the ankles from years of being used. Despite the high temperatures, he wears a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to give him some relief. A knit cap sits atop a mop of greasy black hair. Sitting on his crooked nose is a pair of thick-framed black glasses. He is scrawny in stature with a thin face. The only thick part of him is the messy beard. While he looks to be unkempt, he is quite popular in the crowd. People come up to him, chatting for a few minutes before walking away and letting the next person approach.

  After a young blond strolls away, he is approached by another man a few years older than him. Unlike the toothpick physique of the flannel man, he’s lean with thick arms and legs. The flannel-wearing hipster stands up, but is a foot shorter than his new friend, and probably fifty pounds lighter. The muscled man wears an official shirt of Former Legion with the band logo splattered on the chest with a mix of dark colors. The short sleeves reveal a plethora of tattoos wrapping his left arm that stop at the wrist. Similar to the hipster, he has a wild mop of hair.

  “Can I help you?” the short man in flannel asks, looking at the man with great disgust.

  “You Andy?” the tall man asks.

  “Maybe, who wants to know?”

  “The name’s Grady,” he answers. “I’ve a friend who says you know where I can find some good Italian.” He stares Andy up and down. “What do you say?”

  The hipster, Andy, looks up at this man with a suspiciously raised brow, but he lets his backpack slip off his shoulder. “Yeah, I got what you’re looking for.”

  He unzips the pack. Grady looks inside to find it filled with small plastic bags. Each of the sandwich-size bags is stuffed with brown mushrooms that look as thin and scrawny as the hipster that has them. They are long stemmed with a brown cap and some look to be dried out. The guy with the rocker shirt reaches for one, but Andy smacks his hand away.

  “You got to pay first, dude,” Andy scoffs, pushing the glasses back up his nose.

  “How much is a bag?” Grady asks.

  “Small bag is twenty, big bag is fifty.”

  “Small bag then.” Grady goes into the back of his cargo shorts for his wallet. Without opening it up, he slips out a crisp Andrew Jackson and slaps it in the hipster’s hand.

  After putting the twenty in his pocket, Andy looks to his customer. “I didn’t quite catch the name of your friend who told you about me.”

  Grady smiles. “My buddy Mario.”

  “Oh, you know Mario,” Andy gives a smile back, “hold on, this stuff you don’t want. Anybody that Mario recommends gets the good stuff.”

 
Zipping up the bag of mushrooms, Andy opens a pocket on the side of his backpack. Grady waits patiently with his arms folded while the hipster fumbles through the pack. A scream on stage catches his attention, turning to see the lead singer down on his knees, howling into the microphone. When he looks back to the hipster, he is met with an unpleasant surprise. Two silver prongs bury in his stomach as Andy presses the button on the Taser. It sends fifty thousand volts of electricity through him, turning Grady into a ragdoll. He falls to his hands and knees as the jolt seizes his muscles. He tries to fight the numbing effect, but the constant current has him sprawling on the ground a few seconds later, twitching slightly. As he lays there stunned, his ocean blue eyes turn to Andy, who crouches beside him. He feels something on the back of his head, a hand no doubt. Andy is petting him like a dog.

  The hipster gives a snarky smile. “Tell Mario his princess is in another castle, you fucking nark.”

  Pretending that nothing happened, the drug dealer, Andy, walks off. His backpack is closed and flung back over his shoulder. With the concert still blasting music, everyone around them is deaf to Grady’s groans. The numbing effects of the stun gun start to wear off, letting him twitch a bit more. Shakily he regains control over his arms. He pulls himself up on the seat of the fountain as he gets a tingling in his legs. Forcing his body to stand only causes him to stumble backwards and nearly fall in the fountain. Thankfully he gets enough motor skills back to catch himself from making a big splash. He tries again and this time is able to stand upright. He tries to take a step, but it’s wobbly. Like a newborn, he stagger-steps his way after the drug dealer. Andy is oblivious to the pursuit, the footsteps drowned out by a guitar solo. Taking a few more steps has Grady gaining better control over his legs. From wobbly-leg to walking to a light jog. As he gets closer, his large stature casts a shadow over the unsuspecting drug dealer. Andy notices and turns around.

  “Shit!” Andy curses under his breath when he sees the cop after him.

  The hipster turns around and takes off running. Grady forces his slightly numbed muscles to go after him. Every step strengthens the control over his legs, allowing him to power through the tingling sensation in both legs. His longer stride helps close the gap between them. Andy looks back to see that the policeman is gaining on him. Both men leave the peninsula, heading toward downtown Pittsburgh. Separating them from the rest of the city is an underpass with a waterway and a small bridge crossing over it. Andy runs toward the bridge, but grabs on the railing as he gets to the end. Using his momentum, he vaults himself ten feet through the air, landing in the grass on the other side of the underpass. From there he goes into a dead sprint toward the rising skyscrapers. Behind him, Grady makes use of his longer legs to keep pace, but not tire himself out. Only open space separates the pursuit, giving Grady a small window before the fugitive is lost in a jungle of cars and tall buildings.

  The hipster is able to stay out of reach long enough to make it to the street. He expertly weaves in between the moving traffic. A car slams on its brakes as the driver spies the flannel-wearing man running carelessly through the moving cars. Andy does not break stride, but he leaps over the hood of the car as if he were a frog. By the time Grady even reaches the edge of the road, the drug dealer has landed on the other side and is sprinting down the sidewalk.

  “Fucking parkour hipsters,” Grady complains as he runs headlong into traffic.

  Although he’s fast, he does not have the same finesse as the man he is pursuing. He runs around the slower cars, but the faster vehicles impede his path. He makes an attempt to push through, but it only causes tires to screech and horns to blare. Grady reaches into his pocket, grabbing his wallet again. Thrusting it into the air, he shows the angry driver the golden shield of the Pittsburgh Police Department. Immediately the honking ceases. It allows him to navigate through traffic a touch easier.

  By the time he emerges on the other side of the street, the image of Andy is shrinking. He’s about fifty yards away. Sighing to himself, Grady runs after the hipster again. Once more, the longer legs give him an edge. The undercover cop is able to close the gap to about twenty feet before the hipster tries to duck behind a building. A large gap separates the two skyscrapers, which has been transformed into a pleasant park-like area. While it is appealing to the sight, it gives the drug dealer no coverage.

  Andy realizes he cannot hope to hide so he runs again.

  Grady charges like an angry bull while the hipster does an unnecessary no-handed flip over a park bench. Ignoring the fire in his lungs, the cop gives one final push and throws himself around the ankles of his target. Both men fall to the ground, but Andy does not throw his hands up to take the impact of the fall. He hits the gravel face first. Blood stains the rocks as his nose and bottom lip bleed. Grady gets to his knees and puts his knee on Andy’s back.

  “You are—”

  An unexpected elbow to the throat has Grady falling on the ground and Andy back on his feet. He runs out the other end of the park, seeing a flow of people on the streets. Bruised and bloodied, he screams, “Help, help, somebody help me!”

  Once the blood is seen, a crowd forms around the drug dealer. One man wearing a baseball jersey approaches, “Are you all right, what happened?”

  Playing innocent, Andy points an accusing finger. “That man did it. He’s crazy, you got to help me.”

  The crowd suddenly is forced open, as Grady pushes through the people after the hipster. Andy screams again. All of a sudden, Grady feels his arms being pulled behind his back. Two men have snatched him and are pulling him away from the hipster. He tries to shout at them, but his words are muffled by a sudden punch to his jaw. Some cheer for the heroic bystanders. Everyone is caught up in the action that they fail to see a flannel-wearing drug dealer slip away. Meanwhile, Grady struggles to break free of the three men that are trying to hold him down. He is forced to kick one to wrench his arm free. Grabbing the other man, he throws him over his shoulder. The guy falls harmlessly into the bushes. Before the third guy tackles him, Grady pulls out his badge.

  “I’m a cop,” he pants, showing his shield to everyone in the angry mob. When he notices Andy is not among them, he asks, “Did anyone see where that guy in the knit cap went?”

  “The one in the flannel?” an old lady walking on the street overhears him. “Yeah, I saw him heading toward Clemente Bridge.”

  “Thank you,” he says. Just before he runs, he turns back to the two men that are still on the ground groaning. “Sorry for being rough.”

  The crowd parts like the sea for Grady to pass through. He runs at top speed for the Allegheny River. It does not take him long to spot the unmistakable flannel shirt and wool cap of the hipster, Andy. He runs harder. Behind him, he hears the deep drone of a bus horn as it swerves from hitting him. A taxi makes a sudden stop in the middle of his path, forcing Grady to hop and slide across the hood of the car. The cabby pops his head out of the driver side to shout, but the cop is too far away to hear. Both men weave in and out of the remaining traffic as the bridge comes up on them.

  The yellow bridge arcs over the river, with dozens of people walking across it to get to the baseball stadium on the other side. Grady pushes his way through the crowds only to find Andy standing at the center of the bridge. The drug dealer is near the edge with his backpack in his hand. He looks to the river below. With a firm grip on the handle of his pack, he starts to swing it over the railing.

  “Freeze,” Grady barks.

  The command startles the hipster, making him hesitate. He looks over his shoulder. Grady is about twenty feet away with his gun drawn. The crowds of people walking toward PNC Park turn the other way and run for the roads. The bridge empties out as the two men standoff.

  “What’re you going to do, shoot me?” Andy laughs.

  “Just give me the backpack and I won’t be tempted to. You’ve pissed me off enough today.”

  Pushing on his thick-framed glasses, Andy laughs, “This is the only thing you got to
incriminate me on. Once I drop this, your whole case against me goes bye-bye.”

  Grady watches the backpack hang over the side of the bridge, but a smile comes to his face. “Once I bring you in on drug charges, it won’t be hard to get a warrant from a judge. When we search your house, I bet there’ll be tons of those little spores, won’t there?”

  The smug smile fades from Andy as he pulls the backpack onto the bridge. Grady steps closer, lowering his gun as he takes a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket. When he gets close, Andy surprises him by throwing the pack in his face. In the confusion, the drug dealer grabs the gun. Grady is left with the pack in his hands while the hipster has the weapon. The snarky smile returns to his lips as he points the barrel directly at Grady’s chest.

  Instead of panicking, Grady taunts him, “You aren’t going to shoot me. You’re just another two-bit drug dealer. You’re not going to become a cop-killer now.”

  “Shut up,” Andy loses his cool. The hand that holds the gun trembles. “You don’t know me, you stupid cop.”

  Andy proves him wrong by squeezing the trigger. It does not budge. The safety had been on the entire time. Grady rushes him. With no more options available, Andy thinks of the only means of escape. Reaching for the ledge, he throws himself over the railing of Clemente Bridge.

  “No, don’t,” Grady shouts as he lunges for the hipsters’ blue jeans.

  Unexpectedly, the weight of the drug dealer is enough to pull Grady over the railing along with him. Before both men go into the river, he grabs the steel edge, feeling Andy’s weight in the other hand. The hipster is dangling by his jeans over the water. He starts to panic, flailing as if it will pull him back to safety. The sudden jerking motions loosen the poor grip Grady has already. He feels them slip an inch closer to the river.