by Lexy Timms
Running up the steps to the precinct, he can hear the driver screaming at him from his car, “Hey you cheapskate, you owe me money!”
Grady turns around. “I gave you two hundred dollars yesterday, use that.”
The man scoffs and drives off. Ignoring the cabby, Grady turns back up the steps. He enters the police station and runs past the front desk. The man stationed there shouts something, but Grady ignores him. He pushes through the door and enters the precinct. Seeing someone dressed like a civilian burst into their department puts the officers on edge. One even reaches for his gun, but does not draw it. Grady stops to take a few deep breaths. The exhaustion of running a few miles has finally caught up to him. After steadying his breathing, he looks around the department.
“I need to speak with Commissioner Baxton immediately,” he says. “This is urgent, it can’t wait.”
One of the officers walks a bit closer. “Okay, why don’t you tell me what you want with the commissioner and we will get in touch with him when he is available.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose the information,” he answers. “This information is for his ears only.”
A few of the policemen look at one another skeptically. The officer speaks again, “Okay there, buddy, how about we go wait outside and we’ll wait for him together.”
Grady hears a few of the boys in blue laugh at him. They think he’s crazy, he knows it. The officer takes him by the arm. He instinctively wrenches free, which angers the police officer. Tension is nearly at a breaking point when he hears someone say, “Let him go!”
Looking over his shoulder, Grady is surprised to see Dan and Casey walking into the precinct. The rookie cop smiles. He is still sporting the black eye that Grady had given him on his first night in the big city. Dan steps up to the other officer and pushes the guy out of the way. The other men in the precinct look to one another with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. They murmur among themselves.
“We know the guy, he is on the up and up,” Dan says. “If he says he needs to see the commissioner, he has a good reason for it.”
The other officer steps away. “Okay, sorry about that. The commissioner is in his office.”
Grady turns to Dan. “Thanks, I owe you one.”
“You owe me two,” the older cop says. “My head is still pounding from the other day.”
He nods and then turns to the rookie and his shiner, “Hey, I am sorry about that. I just sort of…reacted.”
“It’s okay,” Casey manages to smile, “I see that you were able to fix your nose.”
“Yeah,” he looks to both men, “when this is all over, I will make sure to make it up to you.”
The senior officer leads him through the precinct. Some of the officers still look at him oddly. In most cases, someone who looks like him, with the tattoos covering his arms, would have a pair of handcuffs slapped around his wrists walking through these halls. Dan waits outside the office as he lets Grady walk inside. When he goes through the door, Baxton rises from his seat, hanging up on whoever he was talking to on the phone. He looks perplexed to see the undercover cop.
“Grady, what’re you doing here?” he asks, taking a glance at his watch.
“I think I’ve found a way in, sir,” Grady says. “I’m still going to be able to find Dean; the real Dean.”
“The man we arrested before was thought to be Dean too,” the commissioner says skeptically.
“The guy yesterday never said he was Dean. Miles said he was, so I thought he was. The guy came close to the description too. He looked like what bit of information you have. I swear the real Dean behind all this is playing with us… like he knows what we’re going to do. Except I don’t think he knows we have a mole in his crew.”
“Maybe he does know.”
“How? It’s been barely a week. No one has called cop on me.” He thinks about Lara. If anyone would have called him on it, she would have.
“I don’t know…”
Frustrated, Grady slams his hand down on the desk, startling the commissioner. “Leave me undercover.”
Baxton stares at him for a long time. Finally he sighs. He knows he has no other option. “You’re sure about this?”
“I am.” Grady crosses his arms over his chest. “Except I have one condition.”
“Here it comes.” Baxton shakes his head.
Grady grits his teeth. “Hear me out.”
“You can’t be serious. You’re the one trying to convince me to keep you in and now you want to give me an ultimatum?”
Grady’s treading on thin ice here. “I’m putting my life on the line for your case. All I want is the girl, Lara, to walk. She’s not in this by choice.” He’s not so sure, but he’s following his gut.
“I can’t do that.”
“Then send me home.” Grady shrugs. He’s not going anywhere. “But you know I’m the only one who stands a chance at finding this guy.”
“I’ll have your badge,” Baxton threatens, “if you’re playing me.”
“Go ahead and try.” Grady meets the threat. “Just remember, when all this is done, I was able to get you closer to Dean in four days than your entire precinct has in four years.”
The commissioner glares at Grady, but finally submits, “All right fine, Grady, you get your way.”
“I’ll get you what you need. Don’t come looking for me, I’ll contact you when I can.” Grady does not say another word as he exits the office, slamming the door behind him.
Head down, he heads out of the precinct. Once outside, the undercover officer is forced to back track the path the taxicab took. While the walk is a lot slower, he’s able to enjoy it without hearing honking horns or the thrill of near-death. By the time he makes it back to the restaurant, the sun has already poked out over the horizon and is steadily climbing. He makes his way up the fire escape, making sure not to slip this time.
The heat almost rains down upon him. Almost instantaneously, he feels his flesh starting to sizzle as if he were standing on a skillet. Since he does not wish to cook, Grady races across the rooftops again, running as fast as he can. This time feels the easiest, almost like he has done this all of his life. He makes it back in record time. Slipping back into his townhouse, he has the sun high in the sky, searing his back. Outside, the city has fully woken up, drowning the metal clanging of the fire escape outside. Inside his bedroom, he sneaks over to the window and peeks out through the curtain. Still sitting there is the black sedan, none the wiser to his little visit.
He walks over to the mirror and stares at himself. It’s only been four, or nearly five days since he was in Pittsburg, but it feels like longer. He looks down at his tattoos and wonders if it’s time to add another. The doorbell rings, distracting him from his thoughts.
He grabs a buttoned shirt and puts it on. Buttoning it up, save for the top two buttons, he walks downstairs. He goes for the door, but hesitates. Fearing that it is whoever was in the black sedan, Grady checks through the peephole. To his surprise, he sees Lara standing there. The black sedan is gone. When he unlocks the door, she barges in and stomps into the living room.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouts at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Me?” He looks at her, confused.
“Yes, you,” she hollers.
“What did I do?”
“What’s with you trying to be all heroic?” She shakes her head.
Grady tries to figure out where she’s coming from. Did she follow him to the precinct?
Chapter 10
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“My father invites you into his home and you think you’re the one to save me from myself?” She glares at him, clearly pissed.
Grady’s eyebrows raise high on his forehead. “I’m… I…” He sighs. “I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re talking about.” He drops his shoulders and raises his hands.
She stomps up to him. “If my father threatens you, be
careful. He’s not a nice man. People think he’s this great guy and they have no clue. Don’t think he’s your key to freedom. He’s not going to help you, Grady.”
“I’m not asking him for help.” He straightens. “I put myself into this mess, I’ll get out on my own, thank you very much.” He realizes she thinks her father was mad last night because Grady was asking him for money or help. “I don’t want anything from your dad.”
“Not even me?”
“Your father doesn’t own you.”
Her head jerks at his comment. She smiles, the hardness in her eyes dimming a bit. “You’re right. He doesn’t. Neither do you.”
“I never said I did.” Women are crazy. Now he remembers why he’s stayed single for so long. Lara isn’t used to kindness. She’s used to fast living, money, everything and everyone being dispensable. He needs to try and talk to her the way he’s used to. “Look, I’m not from here. This place isn’t mine. I’ve got nothing. Everything I have is either borrowed, or someone bought it for me. I want something of my own, but it’s not you. I’m not interested in owning anyone. I want my life. I want you to have your life. If we happen to fuck and are very good at it, I’m not going to complain.” He crosses his arms over his chest and tries to look tough, except the corners of his lips arch upwards.
Lara catches his smile. “You like fucking me?”
The way she says it, he can feel himself growing hard. He nods once. “And you like me fucking you.”
She laughs suddenly and moves against him, her hips pressing firmly against him. “We haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of that statement.” She runs a hand down his chest and kisses his neck.
Grady reacts instantly. His hands slide over her breasts and then down her sides and around to her ass. He pulls her tighter against him and growls when she bites his neck.
She leans back, her hips rotating and he can feel the heat of her cunt against his erection. “I hate to do this to you…” She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. “But we’ve got an appointment.”
His hands haven’t moved off her ass. If he reached down he could have her skirt up and his pants down in less than ten seconds. “I think we’ve got time.”
She laughs and pushes gently on his chest. “We don’t.”
He groans and drops his head between her breasts, inhaling her musky floral scent. His tongue darts out on the soft mounds of flesh peering from her shirt. “You sure?”
Lara pushes harder against him and he releases her. “We don’t, but if you do this right, we will after.” She winks at him and heads for the door. “Oh, don’t forget the money from yesterday.”
He has no choice but to follow her, like a puppy dog.
Keeping Lara close, Grady walks outside after grabbing the bag of money from yesterday. He locks the door and notices a black limousine parked along the curb. Grady stares in disbelief. Yeah, that’s not going to stand out.
He follows Lara into the limo and sits across from her. He stares at her, but she keeps her line of sight straight ahead. It never wavers, even as the vehicle lurches forward, pulling onto the main road. On the other side of the aisle, Grady spreads his arm over the back of the seat and crosses his leg over the other. Looking around the limo, Grady cannot help but ask Lara, “Don’t you think a limousine is going to make us stand out too much?”
“On the contrary,” Lara chuckles and finally turns to him, “it’s the imaginations of Hollywood that have the ‘bad guys’ actually using limousines. In the real world, it’s a much different story. The police will be clueless that this vehicle is transporting a shitload of drugs. We’ll be right under their noses. Since it is a Saturday, any onlookers will think that the passengers inside are just a happy bride and groom on their way to some sort of cathedral. We’ll reach our destination without a second thought.”
Grady can’t argue. Despite the romanticizing movies about organized crime, most of these drug lords do not drive around in high-end cars or dine with the high class of society. Most try to stay modest to avoid being caught. “Where did you learn all this?”
Lara laughs. “It’s not that hard to figure out.”
“I never thought of it.”
She looks at him, surprised. “Why would you?”
Good point. He had been speaking as a cop, as if she knew he was one. “So where are we going?” He needs to change the subject and not have her realize his mistake.
“Big ass drug lord.” She winks.
Dean? He’s dying to ask her but knows he can’t. “Really?”
“Seriously. He’s interested in working with me and I need someone I can trust. Someone with a brain. Back with Miles, I once considered Tony, but he’s a dumbass with no aspiration to move higher up the food chain.”
Poor Tony. He smelled worse than a cop. Grady grins. “I’m in.”
“Okay. Now listen closely. This guy is big. Huge. No bullshit. He’ll pull a gun and pop you in the head if he even thinks he doesn’t like you.”
It has to be Dean. If he plays this right, he could freakin’ have the case solved in five days! What would Baxton think of that? “Don’t look him in the eye, got it.”
“There are going to be a lot of men there. Don’t get nervous. Carlos has had each of his men get a specific tattoo somewhere on their bodies. While the tattoos may be different in one way or another, they all surround the same theme of something from a deck of cards. A queen, a heart, an ace. Just look for them. Keep an eye on them if you see them. They’re all packing.” She turns to stare out the window.
Grady joins her staring out the window. He reads each street sign that they pass, committing each name to memory. The car suddenly rises as it crosses over a bridge. Out in the distance, he sees the minute image of a cruise ship sailing off into the sea. Grady thinks back to what little geographical knowledge he has on New York. From that he deduces that they are heading toward Staten Island.
Just as they cross over the bridge onto the island, the limousine makes a sharp right turn. The limo pulls to a stop outside a large warehouse along the pier. The structure is a composition of weathered wood and steel supports. It looks to have been abandoned, judging by the barnacles crawling up along the one side by the water.
When the two of them exit the vehicle, Grady catches a strong smell of salt in the air. Along with that comes a pungent odor, something like rotting fish. He watches Lara get out of the car and wrinkle her nose, catching the same smell.
“Let’s hurry,” Lara says calmly. “This man is not a patient one. He’s most likely already inside waiting for us.”
They quickly walk across the wooden planks leading up to the warehouse. At the entrance is a pair of metal doors. Too heavy for Lara to pull, so Grady puts some muscle into it and it finally opens with a rusted screech. Lara enters ahead of him, even though Grady prefers to go ahead of her. He wishes he’d grabbed his gun when they left before. All he has is a stupid bag of money slung over his shoulder. He follows her in, but purposely leaves the door open. The open space lets enough sunlight pour in so that they can see much clearer. Only a few light bulbs hang from the ceiling to illuminate the entire warehouse. Most of the insides are left to darkness, but most of it is empty.
The light provides just enough brightness to show where the other drug lord is, along with a dozen of his henchmen.
The fellow drug lord is a middle-aged man, probably ten years older than Grady. He wears a white suit that looks to have been woven from spider silk. A thick head of black hair and bronze flesh has him blend with the shadows that consume the walls of the warehouse. On his upper lip is a wispy mustache that curls upwards at the tips, like a pair of devil horns. As they get closer, Grady cannot help but notice the slight quiver in the man’s upper lip. He can also see quite clearly the remnants of a certain white powder under his nose and staining his mustache. No doubt he is a man who likes the product he sells. It is something rare in successful drug dealers.
“Ah, you must be the famous Lara I�
��ve heard so much about,” the drug lord says, his voice heavy with a Spanish accent.
“Hello Carlos,” Lara says, her voice even. “Grady, this is Carlo Juarez. Carlos, this is Grady, my partner.”
Grady steps up to the fellow drug lord, holding his hand out.
The men behind Juarez step forward to stop him from getting any closer, but their boss pushes them out of the way. Carlos joins Grady and gives him a strong hug. Grady tenses, but does not resist.
“Lara, I did not expect to see you again,” he says with a twitch of his lip.
“You know one another?” Grady asks, stepping in the middle of the two of them.
“Yes, you can say I know her quite well,” Carlos says with a sickening smile. “Tell me, how is it that a man such as yourself came across such a lovely creature?”
“She found me.”
The drug lord winces when he hears that. “I can’t blame her.” He turns to Lara. “Come, walk with me.” Carlos pulls Lara in close. “You, boy, stay here.” The two of them walk away and talk, well, in actuality Lara talks while her counterpart is lecherously looking at her. Grady has to resist running up and punching Juarez, knowing it’ll just get him killed. Casually walking up to the dozen henchmen, he notices that most of them have been lulled, bored with listening to the drug lord prattle on. As he gets closer, he looks them over.
The overall majority of these henchmen are large and heavily muscled. Each of them blatantly carries some sort of illegal firearm, mostly for intimidation. Grady is not so easily intimidated, as he innocently walks up to one of the nearest men in the group. Taking a glance at the man, he tries to start up a conversation. “I hear the Rangers are kicking ass this season.” He smiles.
The man does not share in the smiling. In fact, every one of the dozen henchmen glares spears into him, but he does not shy away from their menacing stares. He looks over to another one to see a scorpion rise into the air as the man offers his hand to shake. Taking the hand, his is swallowed up by the flesh of the other man. The larger guy purposefully attempts to crush the bones in his hand. Grady matches his strength. In the end it is the other man that pulls away, holding onto his sore hand. Without saying a word, he turns abruptly and walks back toward Lara.
