by Joanna Blake
Damn, I’d really preferred the soft and sleepy little kitten.
“47 Charles.”
I gave her a sharp glance. I knew that address. I’d had it under casual surveillance in the past, before I realized Mason was straight.
Or mostly straight, for a biker.
“You live with Mason?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you were his… niece?”
She gave me a look. She knew what I was asking. I suddenly had the unpleasant image of her wrapped up in the burly bikers arms, his big hands all over her-
“He’s not a perv. He’s looked after me since I was fifteen.”
Something clicked. Fifteen…
“When you started at The Jar.”
It wasn’t a question. She looked away, slinking down into the seat the way only a teenage girl could. Only she wasn’t a teenager anymore. Or, she wouldn’t be much longer.
She was legal.
Christ Conn, get your mind out of the gutter!
“You’re a stray aren’t you?”
She glared at me. I could tell she wanted to tell me to fuck off. I grinned suddenly, overjoyed that Mason wasn’t her man. That didn’t make a damn bit of sense either.
It’s not like I could date her anyway for God’s sake.
It was crazy to even think about it. It could never happen. Never. Not for a million reasons.
She was too damn young.
She was too damn pretty.
She was part of the seedy underbelly that I meant to gauge out and expose.
She was a Goddamn WITNESS.
Danny. She could be the key to avenging Danny’s death.
I realized I was gripping the wheel so hard my hands were turning white. I exhaled deeply and rolled the window down, letting a shot of cold air hit my face. I glanced at her and rolled it back up again.
It might be stupid, but I loved seeing her wear my jacket.
I pulled over in front of Mason’s house and put the car in park. I turned to her, making an effort to remember this was not a date.
Because I had the unmistakable urge to kiss her.
Get it together, Conn!
“We’re here.”
She pulled off the jacket and I got hit with that wave again. The sweet, feminine smell of her. Her hair got caught in the seatbelt and I had to clench my fist to keep from pulling it free for her.
After a second I gave in, my hands brushing the back of her neck as I tugged the silky strands loose. I inhaled sharply. My fingers felt like they’d been electrified by the feel of her skin. But not in a bad way.
In a fucking miraculous way.
I knew without a doubt that I was going to be hard for hours. Just from that. I stifled a groan and leaned away from her. It was the hardest damn thing I’d ever done in my life, too.
She gave me a small nod. She was such a serious little thing. I stared at her, my body urging me to make a move. I smiled reassuringly. Or tried to. I’m sure it looked like a grimace.
“Thanks, for the ride I guess.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be seeing each other soon.”
I watched her as she walked down the path and disappeared around the side of the house. I sat there for a little while, lost in thought. The sun was coming up, so I put on my shades and drove away.
Cassandra
We’ll be seeing each other soon.
His words echoed in my head as I walked up the walkway to the side door. It swung open and I was engulfed in a bear hug of epic proportions.
“Case- Jesus girl, I have been worried sick.”
I looked at him. Mason was pale. He did look worried. I grimaced.
“Sorry, Mace. I was kind of busy.”
“You never heard of a damned text message?”
I shrugged. He was right. I’d been totally distracted by the big detective. Is that what he was? Or was he an agent?
Either way, I’d been distracted by the big guy in the suit.
I shivered, wrapping my arms around my chest. It had gotten really cold. Mornings often were this close to the water.
Mason cursed and sat me down at the kitchen table. He plopped a bowl of oatmeal down in front of me and started cutting slices of banana into it.
“Eat.”
He left and came back with a blanket. He wrapped it around my shoulders.
“We can talk later. Unless you want to tell me something now?”
He was staring at me, the look in his eyes intense. No one was as loyal as Mason. And he cared about me. He was literally my only ‘person.’
Alive, anyway.
I shrugged. I had the sudden urge to tell him everything. To unburden myself. But that would only put his life in danger.
So I held my tongue.
“I didn’t have much to tell them.”
“Were they mean to you? I’ll kill DeWitt if he-“
I shook my head vehemently.
“Connor? He was… nice.”
Mason stared at me, his mouth slightly open.
“DeWitt? Nice?”
“Yeah. He brought me coffee and a sandwich and stuff. He even loaned me his jacket so I wouldn’t be cold.”
Mason sat back in his chair, a strange look on his face. Then, unexpectedly, he started laughing.
Not just laughing. Guffawing.
I’m not sure I’d ever heard him laugh that hard in all the years I’d known him. He reached down and scratched Besos behind the ear as the scruffy dog looked back and forth between us, whining. I knew he wanted to lick my bowl clean.
Besos was a weird dog. He really loved oatmeal. Probably because he’d lived on the streets as a stray for so long. He’d learned to survive. He’d take whatever he could get.
I knew the feeling.
“What?”
“Nothing, Casey. He’s just the biggest hard-ass I’ve ever met. The man doesn’t ‘do’ nice.”
“He doesn’t? That’s weird.”
“I think Connor might have a little crush.”
I spooned more oatmeal into my mouth. The food was so good and so warm, I could have eaten a bathtub full. It was kind of like that first night. I’d sat right here, soaking wet and gorging myself on Mason’s homemade stew. Even with the sandwich earlier, I was starving.
Facing down Dante and the FBI in one night could do that to a girl.
Maybe that’s why it took a few seconds for Mason’s word to register.
“Huh?”
“Connor. He doesn’t do nice. He must have it bad if he was that friendly.”
I rolled my eyes. Mason had been warning me for years that I was going to get male attention. More than I’d want most likely. He’d told me not to trust men. He’d taught me how to defend myself too.
So far, it hadn’t been an issue.
Mason kind of made sure of it.
“I doubt it. He was just doing his job.”
“Oh trust me, he thought you were a peach. Too bad for Connor, he’s never gonna get a taste.”
He reached forward and gently tugged on my nose. I wrinkled it up and he laughed again.
“Come on, kid. You better take a hot shower and get into bed.”
Mason had a way of being parental without rubbing me the wrong way. He wasn’t bossy, so much as the voice of mature reason. I nodded and headed to the shower, my mind pleasantly numb.
But when I slid under the covers ten minutes later I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I twirled my wet hair around a finger and snuggled lower into the soft sheets.
Mason thought the suit had a crush on me.
But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was blood.
Connor
“You should get some sleep.”
I rubbed my eyes and shrugged. Sheila had a point. I’d come in after dropping off the girl and started right in on my report.
And digging. Lots of digging.
Not all of it pertaining to the murdered biker either.
There was a certain little waitress who was
lodged in my brain, keeping me going. I wanted to get to the bottom of who, and what, she really was.
But Sheil was right. I needed to stay sharp. I gave her a smile.
“Yes, Ma.”
She rolled her eyes and made a rude hand gesture. There she was. Sheila McCafferty was one hell of an agent. She’d been around the block, though she wasn’t quite an old-timer.
Still, she’d been around way before me.
From the get-go she’d been rude and compassionate at the same time. Like a tired woman that can’t help but love her redheaded stepchildren, no matter how many times they tracked mud through the kitchen.
She was as likely to make you homemade soup for lunch as to slap you upside the head for doing something stupid. And she was more likely to zing you if she liked you. I knew, because I’d always been one of her favorites.
She’d school the younger agents on the ins and outs of proper protocol, let you know which shortcuts were okay and which were not, and embarrass the hell out of you by being faster and stronger than most of the new recruits.
Then she’d bring in homemade muffins the next day. Good ones too.
Yep, Sheila was a certified badass at fifty.
Like everyone else, I loved her to bits.
She reminded me of my mom’s older sister, who we’d lost a few years back. My mom had always been a little scared of her sister Maggie, who had no children of her own. She was tough and authoritative. But she’d been the glue that held the family together.
The holidays just weren’t the same without her.
But I had a second family. My fellow agents were like blood relations to me. And Sheil was without a doubt the one that held us all together, through the hard times especially. I knew I wouldn’t have made it through this last year without her.
I wondered for a second what Sheil would think of my weird fixation on the gorgeous little waitress from The Jar. She’d probably smack the back of my head and tell me to snap out of it. And she’d be right.
Not that it would work. It would take more than a head slap to cure me. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about the girl since I’d met her.
I’d already run a background check and come up with nothing. Maybe it didn’t matter for the case, but I had a funny hunch that there was something there to find. And I wanted to know all her secrets before I interviewed her again.
Oh yeah, I wanted to learn all about pretty little Casey Jones.
I rubbed my eyes and shut down the laptop, deciding to bring it home with me. I’d get a few hours of shut eye and then start up again.
Maybe I’d even make a house call. Run some surveillance.
Solve the mystery of Mason and his barely legal little house mate.
I grimaced at the word ‘mate,’ my thoughts immediately filling with vivid images of her ripe little body. And not just her body.
I was in those visions too.
Without even trying I could conjure up images of us together. Kissing. Rolling around together. Screwing like rabbits.
Jesus Conn, take a cold shower why don’t you?
Danny’s voice was in my head again. As usual, he called me on my shit. Even dead, he was a pain in my ass. But I knew he was right. I did the next best thing, splashing cold water on my face and head before I took to the road.
I drove home carefully, taking side roads. I was bone weary but I knew how to stay alert. It was part of the job. But I knew better than most that a car was a weapon and had to be treated with the same respect as a loaded firearm.
I left the windows open and left the radio off.
I was a longtime member of the insomnia club, so I knew the drill. But I had a feeling I was going to have no problem at all getting some sleep, middle of the day or not.
At home I didn’t bother to undress or shower. I just laid down and that was it. I was out.
I cracked my eyes open with a moan, blinking as I looked around the darkening room. It was already evening from the looks of it. My thoughts went immediately to her.
Yes, I was awake just in time for me to pay a little visit.
I smiled grimly at the thought. I was going to find out who killed that biker. And if Casey Jones was the key to that, so be it.
It had nothing to do with how appealing she was. Not a damn thing.
I’d protect her the way I would protect any other witness. No more, and no less.
I’d passed out with one foot on the floor. When was the last time I had slept that deeply? Years maybe. I stretched and kicked my shoes off.
Damn, I had slept like a rock.
A hot shower and two cups of coffee set me right. I checked my email, reviewing some of the forensic reports that were starting to come in.
No fingerprints on the body, but plenty of fibers. No DNA as of yet. Not surprisingly, the corpse had a blood alcohol level that would have sunk an elephant.
I shook my head. What a waste. Well, at least he hadn’t felt what they did to him after. I didn’t give a shit about the criminal element, but I didn’t think anyone deserved to die like that.
Cut up like a piece of meat.
It wasn’t just gruesome and violent. It was despicable. And something about it felt even more unhinged that the average murder scene.
Murder of any kind was pretty unhinged. I’d taken life in the line of duty. But never lightly. And it weighed heavily on me every time.
But this had been done casually. It was blatant. And it almost seemed like… well, it seemed like the killer, or killers, had been having fun.
There was nothing pointing to a crime motivated by greed or territory wars. The Untouchables weren’t at war with anyone. And the business with the burnt bike and the mutilation- There was definitely something psychotic about the whole thing.
I drove towards Charles Street, my fingers tapping the steering wheel. Without even thinking, I turned on my favorite classic rock station after I got off the highway. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that.
There was a pep in my step as I headed up the walkway to Mason’s house. I knew there was a good chance the girl wasn’t even home. Or that they both were, and he’d make my job more difficult.
But the lights were on, and I was feeling lucky.
I put one hand on my gun and pressed the doorbell.
Ding dong.
Cassandra
I was curled up on the couch in my pajamas, flipping through reality shows when I heard it. Footsteps outside. But they didn’t sound Mason.
No, definitely not biker boots.
I exhaled, realizing my heart had been pounding. I felt like a tiny little bunny, praying there wasn’t a wolf outside the briar patch. Yeah, I was pretty much in fight or flight mode.
And I didn’t much like it.
The doorbell rang. I sort of doubted Dante would ring the doorbell. I swallowed and padded over to the door in my fuzzy slippers.
I peeked out the window with the faded curtain and froze. It was him. The suit was here.
The federal freaking agent was standing outside the door.
The really hot one.
I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. Then I did the only thing I could do. I opened the door.
“It’s a little early for bunnies, isn’t it?”
Bunnies? How did he know what I had just been thinking? I glanced down at my feet.
Oh, right. My slippers. Wake up, Cass.
Fantastic, Mr. Genetically Perfect was seeing me in my PJ’s. Not sexy ones either. I was in a cami with an open hooded sweatshirt and flannel polka dot pajama pants. Very dignified.
Not.
“Mase gave me the night off.”
He quirked a smile at me and I froze. He looked almost boyish when he smiled. It was disarming. It made me forget who he was and why he was here.
To get me murdered.
Basically this guy, who was reasonably nice and undeniably gorgeous, was going to get me killed.
And Mason. Do
n’t forget about Mason.
“That was nice of him.”
I stood there, still staring at the agent. He wasn’t in his suit tonight. He was in jeans and a casual button down. But he was still on duty.
Don’t forget that. Do not. Forget.
Even if that smile had transformed him completely.
“Um, do you want to sit down?”
He nodded and I stepped back to let him inside.
I got an unexpected whiff of him as he walked past me. He smelled so good. Like the woods where we’d gone camping a few summers ago. Pine and fresh air and something… warm.
He waited for me to lock the door. As big as he was, he managed to fill the small kitchen. I swallowed and led him into the living room.
He watched me like a hawk as I hastened to turn off the TV, embarrassed that the housewives of wherever was on.
He must think I’m an idiot. I am an idiot. Why else would I care what he thinks?
You want him to think you are dumb, Cass. Dumb enough not to notice someone getting killed in a parking lot right in front of your eyes.
I folded the blanket I’d been rolled up in and offered him a seat. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. For a minute we just sat there.
It felt so weird, like we weren’t sure what to say to each other.
I caught Connor staring at me and looked away. Maybe Mason was right… my cheeks got red.
Don’t be stupid Cass. He’s just here to do his job. It’s not a date.
Even if it sort of felt like one.
“Have you remembered anything from last night?”
“Like what?”
He turned to face me, one arm up on the couch. I stared in awe as Cheeto circled Connor’s feet and sat down, staring up at him. Then Besos followed.
Morely watched from his favorite spot above the TV.
The agent glanced at the animals sitting at his feet and looked back at me.
“Like anything.”
I shrugged, trying not to notice how the animals reacted when he casually reached down to pet them. They acted like he was the Second Coming. I frowned, inexplicably annoyed.
“No. I mean, it was packed. Nothing stood out.”
