Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4)

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Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 5

by Morgan Kelley


  He was weak.

  This was proof.

  For now, Greyson was going to blame it on the adrenaline high from what happed earlier.

  Slipping her off his body, he headed to his desk to make the call. When he dialed the number, he placed it on speaker phone and waited until the man answered.

  “Greyson, my boy, are you safe?” Randall Mason asked, worried for his adopted family.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. The killer took a shot and missed me, but took out one off my agents.” His hand immediately went to the bandage on the side of his neck, a reminder of how close he’d come.

  Emma was getting sick again.

  Greyson noticed the panicked look on her face and took action. He patted his leg, and she rushed over to him, taking her place in his lap.

  Once more, his libido surged, and he fought against it.

  “I saw the news. I was in a business meeting, and you were the talk of the town. Then, I saw Emma, and our poor girl looked traumatized. Is she well?”

  Croft was irritated at the word ‘our’, but he let it go. This was their only link to the seedy underbelly of illegal activity, and he needed to play nice.

  “I’m okay, Randall. I wasn’t for a while, but I’m going to survive,” she answered his question.

  “Emma, if you need anything, you call me. I’ll take care of it in a heartbeat,” he assured.

  “I do actually need one thing, Randall, and that’s why Grey is calling you. I need to join you tomorrow night at the poker game.”

  There was silence.

  Greyson lifted a brow, as if to tell her ‘I told you so’. High stake poker games with the illegal element, seldom had a tag along by the little woman.

  “Please?” she pleaded, the pain evident in her voice. “I need to be there with him, and you’re my only chance of that happening.” If he thought she wouldn’t lay on the guilt to get her way on this, both men were wrong. She’d crawl over shards of glass to keep her husband safe, so it was official.

  She had no pride left.

  Finally, he spoke, “May I be frank, my dear?”

  She didn't care as long as he ultimately said yes. “Certainly.”

  “You’re not going to want to be there. The men who move in that circle, aren’t the kind of gentlemen who you should be around. They’re crass, unrefined, and view women as little more than bed warming companions.”

  Croft was amused that Randall managed to describe the scum of Vegas in terms that still made them sound better than they were.

  “I don’t care. They can say what they want about me and try to get me in their beds. My only concern is Greyson.”

  He was irritated and touched at the same time. His wife pulled so many emotions and feelings from him, and sometimes they were conflicted.

  Like now.

  Randall continued, “Yes, you’re married to the director, but the men there like to be vile, and you’ll be discussed openly, like you aren’t in the room. Nothing will be off limits, Emma. Is that something you really want to open yourself up for?”

  Croft knew that would make him insane, yet he was willing to swallow his anger if it healed his wife. Again, he would take one for their team. After all, when he told Emma what he planned on doing, to find the person behind the bribery, she didn't hesitate. Emma refused to leave his side.

  As far as Croft was concerned, she earned it.

  “I don’t care, since I’ll know the truth. If Grey wants me to pretend to be nothing more than some fluff-brained bed warmer, I’ll do it. But, I’ll do it armed and standing beside him.”

  Randall laughed. “You won’t get a gun in there. They pat down everyone at the door.”

  She wasn’t worried. “Fine. I’ll leave the gun at home, but I’ll be his second set of eyes. Please can I go?”

  Neither man spoke. Finally, Randall broke the silence and directed the conversation to Croft. “It’s up to your husband. I’ll get you in, but he has to allow it. After all, you’re simply his wife.”

  Emma knew what he was doing. Mason was trying to see if she would get pissed off at his words. Yeah, nice try but she wasn’t falling for it. Besides, if all she could be in life was his woman, that was more than enough.

  After all, the perks were pretty freaking spectacular.

  “Please, Grey? May I go with you?” she asked, leaving little feather light kisses across the scar on his cheek.

  “Okay, Emma, but you don’t do anything that will get you hurt. Am I clear?”

  Oh, she wasn’t worried about herself. Her focus was the large man beneath her. “Yes, Greyson.”

  Randall laughed. “Why do I feel like she played us both? Your wife is entertaining, son.”

  Croft didn't doubt it at all. Emma was a damn good cop, her instincts were fine-tuned, and she knew how to play the game when the need was there. “I trust her to have my back. I’m good with her being there.”

  “Emma, my dear, there’s one last thing you need to think about.”

  Randall Mason had her attention. “What?”

  “Attire. You need to present yourself in a specific way.”

  She was willing to eat a live tarantula at that point. “What do I need to do?”

  “These men view women sexually. I’ll have my personal assistant send over a few things that will work for the evening. They’ll arrive tomorrow afternoon. While I love your style, it’s too…”

  She waited for it.

  “Classy. Dominic Marianna and his lackeys will be there. They like sexy, loose women who don’t mind offering up their services.”

  Croft groaned at the name. Since this wasn’t his first poker game, he knew what was coming.

  “What?” she asked, staring at her husband.

  “He’s this casino mogul, and he likes to believe that he’s some Italian gangster. He comes with his entourage and tries to intimidate everyone.” Great. Now, he was going to be focused on his Emma, as he tried to get in her pants. This was the shittiest day he’d had in a long time.

  “I’m not worried,” she replied. “I can blend in.”

  Croft and Randall both laughed at that one. It was truly the funniest thing they’d heard all day.

  “What?” she demanded.

  Randall Mason spoke, “You’re just the tasty little morsel that he’d love to sink his teeth into, and he’s going to try to bait your husband. By bringing you there, it’s going to be a sign of Greyson flaunting his good fortune. Here’s a virile man with his younger, sexy wife. Dominic is going want a piece of that. ”

  Emma realized the hell which Greyson was willing to suffer for her. She loved him even more, if that was possible.

  “I’ll be good. Trust me.”

  Croft was curious. “Can you keep your ears open and listen for me, Randall? I need to know if today was an attempt on me by one of the power players, or someone else.”

  Mason thought about it. “My boy, I don’t believe it was from them. I would have heard about it beforehand. I didn't hear any chitchat that there was something getting ready to go down. Are you sure it’s related?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. Vegas was quiet for weeks, and now it’s going to hell in a hand basket again.”

  “I’ll listen and keep you updated. My best guess is that if someone were going to strike at you, it would be a more public function. The fundraiser gala would be a more logical choice, or possibly tomorrow, as you’re in the limo and being whisked up to a penthouse to gamble. If someone took a risk, it wouldn’t be in that small setting.”

  Croft agreed.

  “Whoever is dogging you is going to want the publicity of watching you fall from grace. It’s going to be public. I’d bet money on it.”

  He didn't like that at all, especially since his date was always his wife. If he was a target, so was Emma.

  “Again, I’ll dig around.”

  Emma interjected, “Be careful! Don’t risk your life, Randall.”

 
The man laughed. “My dear, your protectiveness warms my heart. Thank you for caring about a very old man.”

  At the knock to their door, Croft cut the conversation short. The last thing he needed was his co-workers hearing him talk to the dirtiest power player in the city. “I have to go, Randall. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “Emma, your things will arrive and Greyson, I’ll send the limo for you both. Be safe,” he said, before hanging up.

  “Come in,” Croft called. When Emma tried to stand and get out of his lap, he didn't let her. If she was going to play lap kitten tomorrow night, she might as well get used to the stares.

  “Boss, here’s your…” Linda stopped just inside the door. “I’m sorry. I didn't know you were,” she paused, looking for the right word, “busy.”

  Croft simply held out his hand. “Thank you, Linda.”

  “The tech department said there’s some lag time with your old emails and such. The server will get them switched over within the next few hours.”

  Linda tried not to stare at the redhead in her boss’s lap. All the women in the office would kill to be in her place. She couldn’t wait to tell her girlfriends at lunch. Normally, she wouldn’t subscribe to gossiping, but Greyson Croft was one hot commodity. If you couldn’t be his woman, you wanted to at least pretend you were his wife. He was the center of many a workplace fantasy.

  “Will I get the new emails?” he asked, placing the phone on his desk.

  “Yes. It’s just the stored ones that take time to encrypt and transfer.”

  “Thank you,” he said, dismissing her.

  Before Emma could say anything, he began, “Let me go on record right now, after talking to Mason, and tell you how it’s going to be. You’re not going to the Gala. If that’s the most likely place that someone is going to try and strike at me, my wife will not be sitting on a stage out in the open.”

  She stared at him.

  “But, to make this fair, I’ll add that I’m also not attending.”

  Emma protested. “I’m one of the items being auctioned away,” she added. “I have to go. You know that I picked the homeless shelter as my charity. Any money offered for me to play the piano will go to help them.”

  He was well aware, and whenever she called herself an ‘item’, he wanted to storm around the room in some testosterone-fueled rage.

  “Since you’re one of the ‘big deals’ here in Vegas, as your wife, I have a moral obligation to raise money and come across as someone worried about the city.”

  Croft roared with laughter. “Where did you come up with that one, Em? You just threw down a whole truck load of bullshit in that one sentence. You’re well aware I don’t give a damn about being seen as ‘a big deal’ in this city. I’m here to clean it up, nothing more.”

  She winked at him. It was good to see him smile. Yet, she knew below the surface, he was still angry. She could feel it. “You didn't buy it, huh?”

  “Hell no, I didn't.”

  Now, Emma laughed. “Oh well, I tried,” she purred, leaning down to kiss him. It wasn’t the same as their previous lip lock, but it was warm enough to heat the room.

  As she slowly pulled away, her voice went serious. “We started this together, Greyson, and we’ll finish it that way. Wasn’t that our agreement?”

  Suddenly, his mood changed.

  “Let’s leave, Emma. We can pack up and go. I don’t need to be in Vegas. We can pick some quiet little town and head there. Life can be simple again. You can be a sheriff, and I’ll find something to do.” At this point, he’d do anything to keep his wife safe. He’d sacrifice his pride to have her by his side.

  She delicately ran her fingers over his cheek. “Okay, love muffin,” she offered, using his nickname.

  “Damn it! Why so agreeable?”

  She grinned wickedly. “Apparently, I’m in love.”

  “Really? We can go?”

  “No, we’re not leaving Vegas. You’re Greyson Croft, and you were born to fight the bad guys. You were a soldier, and now you fight a bigger war. We’ll stay and bunker down until we get our plan together.”

  He stared into her emerald eyes. “You know, I’m a lucky man. Not every guy has his own cheerleader.”

  “We’re going to be fine, as long as we stick together. Wasn’t it you who told me, back in Celestia as we were making love, that we were made for each other? We fit together because I’m your other half.”

  Croft grinned. “I was talking more about the physical aspect but…”

  She slapped him.

  “Yes, you’re right. I can’t run from this, or send you away. We’re a team.” It relaxed him, knowing that no matter what, they had something stronger than anything in the universe.

  “What now, babe?” she asked, leaning against him.

  “I’m going to alert my profilers. They need to get to work. I’ll also call in Agent Brass. She’s good at what she does and might be an asset.”

  Yeah, and as a female, she could babysit Emma, following her to places that he couldn’t. Now, as long as his wife didn't figure that out, he’d remain alive and married.

  “Are they still a couple?” she asked, hopping up from his lap, so he could get the calls done.

  “You got me. I told them I didn't want to see or hear it, and as far as I know, they’ve done just that. I did see them in the cafeteria having lunch a week ago. They were sitting side by side, not across from each other. That’s probably a good indicator. Then again, you know how women are,” he teased.

  She chucked a pen at him.

  Croft had to go with humor, since the slaughtering of his agents was eating away at him, making him ready to explode. For now, he was trying to do what his boss had suggested.

  Lead by example.

  If he stayed calm, the troops would do the same.

  Hopefully.

  “After I talk to them, I’m going to head to Lester William’s house to do the notify. I don’t want an agent going. Lester was a damn good man, and he went down in the line of duty. I want her to hear it from the top of the food chain, since he mattered.”

  Emma saw the control fraying. It was time to switch his focus. “I’m going with you.”

  He sighed, closing his eyes.

  “Yep. I’m your tail. Get used to it, Director Croft. Until we can eliminate this as a missed attempt on your life, I’m sticking.”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard, Emma.”

  She began laughing. “Yeah, I told you that too and still you sicked your little mini-Croft, Curtis, on me.”

  He grinned. “Well, I had to. You’re my wife, and it’s my job to protect you.”

  Emma crossed her arms and stared at him. Oh, his protectiveness turned her right on and made her want to climb all over him, but she couldn’t let him know that. Then, it would be a mêlée. If anything, she needed to put up a little fight, or the caveman would have her locked away.

  “You’re my investment. Think of it as me just watching over it, keeping it safe.”

  He knew she wasn’t going to give up. “I’m going to make the call, and then take a shower. I need to get into clean clothes and ready for the notify.”

  Again, his mood soured.

  “Okay, babe. I’m going head back to the precinct. I need to get my phone and schedule some personal time. I’m going to be very busy the next few days,” she said, tucking a hair behind her ear.

  Croft heard the humor, saw the smile, but noticed it didn't reach her eyes. Then, when her hand shook, he softened a little. Today had been a horrible day for her, and they had come too close.

  Even he knew it.

  “I’ll get you a driver. I don’t want you out there unprotected.”

  Emma could have reminded him that the person killing the agents took one out in his own kitchen, and the other on the steps of FBI Vegas. If they were going for her, she couldn’t stop it.

  “Okay, babe. I’ll be back.”

  Croft called down to get his car for her. Yes, she’
d be noticed, but he could only hope and pray this maniac was focused on him and not his woman.

  One thing was for sure. When this was over, whoever was taunting him was going to regret it.

  There would be more spilled blood.

  This time, he’d be the killer.

  * * *

  LVPD Precinct

  When the tinted out Lincoln Town Car pulled in front of the police station, the media was already there waiting for her. There was no way to avoid it, and she was sure they were going to make this some crazy headline.

  Unfortunately, being married to the head Fed in Vegas had its price. Loss of privacy was the big one. The media was always interested in what shoes she was wearing, the name on the label of her dress, and who did her hair.

  It was irritating and amusing all at once.

  Where Emma was just a cop, she was sometimes treated like a celebrity. Oh well, it was her cross to bear.

  As the privacy screen slid down, the driver peered back at her. “Mrs. Croft, do you want me to get you out of here?” he asked.

  “No, George, I’ll be fine. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Do you mind waiting?”

  “No ma’am. I have orders from the director to sit here and bring you back to his office when you’re done.”

  Of course he did.

  Well, it was now or never.

  Pushing open the door, Emma headed out into the fray. The second they saw her, the insanity exploded. Cameras flashed, people began calling her name, and mayhem ensued.

  “Is your husband dead?” someone shouted.

  “Did you have to identify the body?” came another.

  “What’s your plan now, Mrs. Croft?”

  She ignored them all. Finally, a few uniformed officers who were entering the building, rushed to assist.

  Thank God.

  Once inside, she thanked them and headed off to find her captain. She was dreading this meeting. One never knew how Patty Stout would react.

  It was a crapshoot.

  As she approached the bullpen, immediately her co-workers rallied around her, offering their support. Once she told them Greyson wasn’t the one shot, there were words of reassurance and happiness, that her husband was still alive.

 

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