Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2)

by J.C. Valentine

  Talia’s cheeks flushed just thinking of all the places that tongue had been over the last eight hours. “That’s one way of describing it, but the way I was using it, it actually meant ridiculous man-child.” She winked at Tucker, earning a toothy grin.

  “Does that mean you’re gonna get married?”

  Tucker’s expression morphed from playful and happy to shocked and terrified in zero-point-one seconds. “What? No! Nobody is gettin’ married. Talia and I are just…um…”

  “Friends?” she offered.

  He snapped his fingers. “Yes, friends.”

  Ash nodded while studying where next to attack his ice cream. “Then are you gonna go to jail?”

  Both Tucker and Talia froze and looked at the boy. “Little man, where in the world are you getting this stuff from?”

  Licking some melting ice cream from his cone before it dripped onto his shorts, Ash shrugged and said, “I heard Daddy say that he had a feeling you were gonna be doing life soon. He said you already had the ball and chain to prove it.”

  Tucker spluttered. Talia burst out laughing. She had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from spraying ice cream and bits of cone everywhere.

  “Jesus Christ. You tell your daddy…No, never mind. I’ll tell him myself…while I’m strangling the life out of him.”

  Talia snickered. “Well, as your ball and chain, I’m officially grounding you. No strangling, young man.”

  “Awwww, but sugarrrrr,” Tucker whined playfully.

  Talia lifted her chin. “Nope, not gonna happen, I don’t care how much you beg.”

  Leaning around Ash, Tucker whispered-mouthed, “Not even if I’m on my knees?” He licked his lips, his eyes holding a glimmer of mischief and instantly, Talia’s thighs quivered.

  “You’re like the Energizer bunny,” she whispered-mouthed back.

  Reaching around Ash, Tucker grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought his mouth to hers. “You love it.”

  “My daddy makes that face whenever he looks at Gabby,” Ash said casually.

  Talia had been so caught up in Tucker, she hadn’t even noticed when Ash turned to look at them over his shoulder. Facing forward again, he bit into his cone and chewed thoughtfully, his legs swinging freely beneath him.

  Abandoning the almost kiss, Tucker aimed what was left of his ice cream at a trashcan a good ten feet away and pitched it straight in—all net. “Is that so?”

  “Yep, and then he says, I love you,” Ash mimicked, his voice dropping comically low for a kid his age.

  Talia’s stomach flipped for some ridiculous reason, her gaze jumping to Tucker who was staring a hole into the ground. He appeared to be thinking hard, which made her want to ask…oh, about a dozen questions. But she refrained, sensing that the whole love thing was a sore subject. Had he lost someone he loved? A woman, or maybe a child? Or was he just the type who didn’t like attachments?

  It wasn’t for her to say, but Talia knew one thing for certain, and that was that she needed to stop thinking about the impossible and focus on why she was there: form a connection, earn his trust, get the evidence, and uncover the truth.

  Tucker made some kind of grunting sound that Talia couldn’t decipher, but it was obvious that what Ash had said had struck a nerve. Instead of stewing over it, Tucker popped to his feet, his expression bright once again. “Ready to hit the road?”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Stance squared, shoulders relaxed, Talia focused down the alley and squeezed the trigger. Bang! The gun jerked in her grip, the heat from the sparks scattering over her forearm. She fired again. Bang! Bang! Bangbangbang! Clip empty, she pressed the button to draw in her target. Every shot hit its mark: dead center through the chest and one in the head.

  Hitting the gun range was an excellent tool for clearing the mind. She tried to make it a regular part of her week, not only to relieve stress but to keep her skills sharp. There was no telling when she might have need of them.

  Exchanging the spent clip for a fresh one, Talia slammed her palm onto the butt of the gun, snapping it into place. Then she changed out the target and pushed the button, sending it flying back down the range.

  She unloaded another clip, and another, unleashing her frustrations on the piece of paper. She lost track of time, her mind churning over work and everything that’d transpired since being assigned to the case. The more she reflected, the more she admitted to herself that her personal and professional lives had become enmeshed in a way they’d never been before.

  Tucker. Gabby. Now Ash too. They were all a part of her life, and she liked the way they fit into it.

  Even if it was a fictional existence.

  It wouldn’t end well. None of it would. If by some stroke of luck—or miracle—she somehow managed to solve the case and keep the life that wasn’t technically her own, she’d eventually have to tell them she’d been lying the whole time. It wouldn’t work out well.

  Hell, it wouldn’t work out at all. For some reason, people tended to get a tad upset when they found out the people in their lives were hiding secrets from them. Something told her Tucker wouldn’t be an exception.

  Melancholy swooped in to keep her company. There was no outrunning it. No matter how she tried to play it, in the end, there was only one outcome: everything would end.

  Saying goodbye to Tucker, to his friends who were now becoming her friends, was a pain she’d rather not address right now. Just thinking about it made her want to throw her hands up and quit. Confess to the charade and let the cards fall where they may.

  But she couldn’t. Quitting had never been in her vocabulary, and Talia was dedicated. She was going to find those women. She was going to find the person or persons responsible and bring them to justice.

  She was going to clean up this town or die trying.

  Bangbangbangbangbangbang!

  “Jesus, McKinnon, I hope it’s not my face you’re picturing right now.”

  Talia turned to see Frank peeking around from the next stall, admiring her marksmanship. “Frank. How’s it going?”

  “Eh, it’s going. SAC says you got your in. Congratulations. To be honest, when I’d heard you’d sent the guy packing, I didn’t think you had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever getting back in.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess you were wrong.” She scowled as she sighted down the lane and let off another round. Why was Ingram talking about her with Kellerman anyway? Something about it felt off, but she dismissed the feeling because it didn’t matter to her one way or the other.

  “First time for everything.” His smile was strained. “I haven’t had as much luck on my end. Those women are harder to pry open than a bear trap. Anyway, I’ll be transferring to surveillance soon. I can do more there.”

  Talia paused in the middle of organizing her supply bag. “So you’re going to be watching over me?”

  “Day and night,” he said with no small amount of pride, although she suspected that it was more from his knowledge that she hated his guts than that he wanted to be sidelined.

  With a tight smile, Talia shoved the last of her supplies into the bag and zipped it up. She turned to Frank. “Good thing there are no cameras in the bedroom then. Of course, you’ll have to go back to relying on magazines to get off.”

  “Yeah, it’s unfortunate. The pocketbook will take a hit, but what can you do?” he said sarcastically.

  Jiggling her bag, Talia said, “Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got places to be, people to investigate. A case to solve.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, have fun screwing your way to the top.”

  Oh, she hated his guts, the slimy little creep. Glaring, Talia put as much venom into her voice as she could. “Thanks, Frank, I will. So much fun. Tons of fun.” She flicked her middle finger up as she backed toward the door. “Have fun surveilling shit.”

  Back ramrod straight, Talia marched her way out of the building and practically threw herself behind the wheel of her car. She couldn’t
get out of there fast enough, but no matter how fast she drove, she couldn’t outrun Frank’s words.

  As much as she’d like to say they didn’t bother her, they did. Was he right? Was being with Tucker akin to sleeping her way to the top? She didn’t think it worked that way, but when she really examined it, maybe it did. Was there really much difference between having sex with Tucker while hoping for answers that would solve her case and, ultimately, secure her position in the FBI versus having sex with her boss?

  The line was sketchy, but it was food for thought that she couldn’t ignore.

  But what else did she have? Tucker was a man. A highly sexualized man who responded to, well, sex. He was as tight-lipped as they came, both by nature and the code he lived by. Short of bringing him in, putting him under a spotlight, and demanding answers to all her questions, she couldn’t think of another way to pry open the steel vault of his mind.

  Then again, maybe that’s exactly what she needed to do. The only problem with that was, in the eyes of the law, Tucker hadn’t done anything wrong. Innocent until proven guilty. So, until she had something solid, her hands were effectively tied.

  ***

  Tucker’s arms trembled under the weight of the iron, threatening to collapse. He strained, calling on every last ounce of energy he had left to push the bar back up onto the rack. For a second, he wasn’t sure he’d make it, but somehow, he did. Once the weights were secure, and he no longer had to worry about crushing his own chest, he let his arms drop like limp noodles to his sides and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breaths as he reviewed his time with Talia over the last several days.

  She’d entered his life from left field, taking him by surprise. He’d intended for her to be a one-time deal, but somehow she’d turned into a nightly addiction. One that spread over into mornings and afternoons, even. There were times, like yesterday, that he wasn’t sure when one day started and another ended, he was so wrapped up in her.

  It couldn’t be healthy, being so…absorbed in another person like that. And why her? What made Talia Bruce so damn special anyway?

  Tucker had been with plenty of women over the years. None of them stuck. At least, not by his choice. But Talia was a different story. He could almost feel the glue binding them together, and it was growing stronger every day. The question was, what the hell was he going to do about it.

  He’d be a dick if he told her he couldn’t see her anymore because he was afraid things were getting too serious, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t. And he’d hate himself if he did.

  He was doomed is what he was. He could almost feel the shackles being placed around his ankles, but there was no way to win without losing. And he couldn’t ask Blake for advice. The asshole would probably tell him to get hitched and be done with it. The rest of his brothers would just laugh in his face and probably throw a party, then they’d pitch his shit onto the curb and take bids on who got to have his room.

  Maybe what he needed was some distance. Stop dipping his stick in the water for a change and take a step back for a minute.

  “Please tell me you aren’t dumb enough to lift without a spotter.”

  Tucker’s gaze drifted to Repo who’d just entered the room. He was rocking one of those hideous low-cut tanks that looked like someone’d shredded a t-shirt all to shit with a pair of loose fitting basketball shorts similar to his own. All of his muscles were on display, and the guy was so cut, it almost made Tucker self-conscious. Almost, because he knew he was in shape and looked damn good for his age. That’s what a regimen of years of football and water sports in the armed forces followed by general maintenance in the gym would get you.

  “Don’t need one,” Tucker grunted. Sitting up, he was careful not to knock his head on the metal bar. “I assume you need one, though.” The insult was implied.

  “Ha! With those noodle arms? Sorry, man, but I don’t think you can handle what I got.” Repo flexed his biceps. And his pecs. And his thighs. Jesus, he was one solid slab of beef. Put him in a Santa suit and he’d have women lined up for blocks to sit on his lap.

  Tucker held up his hands. “Sorry, the only thing I’m interested in handling is a pair of tits and the female body that comes with it.”

  “Speaking of females,” Repo started as he selected dumbbells in graduating weights and lined them up along the floor, “what happened with that one I found in your room? You still seeing her?”

  Planting his feet, Tucker crossed his arms over his chest. “Talia? Yeah, she’s been hangin’ around.”

  Picking up a set of smaller weights, Repo started his first set of curls. “Didn’t think you liked them hangin’ around. ‘Specially after Bambi. You know she’s been fishin’ for info.”

  Tucker’s eyes narrowed to slits just hearing her name. “That so?”

  Repo grunted. “Yep. Seems she’s been in the ear of every brother here, askin’ where you been, who you’re with. One of the prospects caught her snoopin’ around your door the other night, too, soon after you turned in. Come to think of it, pretty sure you had that Talia chick with you.”

  Tucker’s jaw clenched tight. So Bambi was not only digging around, but she was spying on him. He’d hoped when he cut her loose that she would get the hint and find a different man to cling onto, but in the back of his mind he’d always known it wouldn’t be that easy.

  “I’ve cut her enough slack, but it’s time to show her the door.”

  “My thoughts exactly, brother. The last thing any of us need is a jealous bunny going Single White Female on a brother. Might give the others ideas.” He grinned, showing off all those pearly white teeth.

  “No kidding. With the shit some of the brothers pull, it’s a wonder none of them have gotten the Bobbitt treatment yet.”

  Repo shuddered at the thought. “Yeah, let’s not even go there.”

  “Yeah, let’s not. So what else has been goin’ on ‘round here that I don’t know about, Chatty Kathy?”

  “Hear the Prez is expecting.”

  “Yeah, I was there for that one. Crazy to think he willingly signed over his freedom.”

  “Maybe. Some men would kill to be tied down.”

  “Some men, but not this one.”

  “Not from what I’ve been hearing,” Repo said, then got real busy exchanging his weights for a heavier pair.

  Tucker didn’t have to ask. He knew the rumor mill was in full swing, but he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever they had to say. He knew the truth better than all of them because he was living it. “Rather than talk about my love life, or lack thereof, which, for your information, is exactly how I like it, why don’t we talk about how we plan to handle Cruiz and his guys.”

  Like a true brother, Repo didn’t try to steer the topic back around on him. Instead, he was visibly relieved and even happy for the change of course. “I have a couple leads I wanted to go over with you, but before I do, what have you got?”

  Tucker smiled. This was exactly what’d brought him into the weight room to begin with. He’d needed time to digest and to develop a plan of attack before he took his information to the table. But Repo, being the man that he was, was the perfect person to test it out on.

  “I’ve been spending some time on the computer messing around with the security footage. This morning, I finally found a tie to the man we’ve been looking for and the fire. He was good at keeping out of sight, but it seems one of the cameras caught him getting into his truck. It’s not much, considering the shit quality of the footage, but I was able to pick out a partial plate. Used one of my contacts to run it through the database and came back with a registration.” And this was where it got interesting. “Guess who it’s registered to.”

  Arms hanging at his sides, weights still gripped in his hands, Repo wore the look of a man on the verge of losing his shit. “Cruiz?”

  “Close. Jodi.” Repo’s expression flattened, and he stared off, processing. Tucker filled in the blanks. “The bitch ran with Cruiz. Looks like he’s using her
to cover his tracks.”

  “Apparently, not good enough.” His gaze iced over. “That bitch is going down.”

  “And we’re going to be there to watch it happen.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  A noxious cloud of cigar smoke clogged the air. More drifted from Ricky’s mouth and nose. He reclined into the couch cushions, legs spread wide, becoming one with the buttery black leather that cost more than all the money Jodi had seen in her lifetime.

  It was what first attracted her to him: the money. To a girl who grew up with nothing, it was everything. With that money, she could have everything she ever dreamed of. She could Scrooge McDuck it all over the giant master bed. It didn’t matter where it came from or what it cost her to get it.

  Give up her miserable, boring life? Done.

  Give up her striving-for-sainthood blue collar baby daddy? So done.

  Give up her kid? He was a pain in the ass anyway. She’d never been cut out for motherhood. Done. Done. And done.

  The money was all she’d ever cared about. The man she had to sleep with was just an unfortunate side effect. The price she willingly paid, though, was well worth the luxury she’d acquired. Fancy cars, Spanish style house overlooking hills and valleys, fur-trimmed coats and couture fashions she’d only ever heard of before, and caviar snacks with expensive champagne to wash it all down with.

  Yes, life was good. Fan-fucking-tastic from where she was sitting. Which was currently on a tufted sued ottoman. She ran her hand over the soft fabric as she spoke.

  “Are you planning to keep us locked away for the rest of eternity, or are we going to live a little, Ricky?”

  He didn’t even look at her. Just rolled that cigar between his fingers and watched the tendrils of smoke rise from its burning tip. “We’re in the middle of war. If you want to keep living, shut your mouth and sit pretty till I say otherwise.”

  “You know I don’t do well being cooped up. I need to spread my wings, Ricky.” Getting down on her knees, she crawled toward him with seduction in mind. He watched her approach, his face impassive. When she reached him, she let her hands do the walking, starting with his ankles and working their way up. “We could go out to dinner, just like we used to do. Order some steaks and too much wine. Remember that, Ricky? Remember when you used to get me tipsy and then we’d crawl into the backseat of your car and fuck like rabbits until the sun came up.”