by Jewel, Bella
I finish my workout, avoiding any room Kendric is in, and then go to the locker room to shower and get changed for my long ass day at work. I’ve just finished showering and have put my pants and bra on when the door opens and Kendric walks in, sweaty and panting, looking so damned good I find it very hard not to stare at him. I don’t, though, I just keep dressing myself.
“You fall when you were drunk?”
I look to him, confused. “What?”
“Did you fall when you were drunk?”
“I don’t ...”
He points, and I look down to see a green bruise by my ribs. I didn’t realize it was there, but I know right away what it’s from. Reece. I quickly pull my shirt over my head and shrug. “Probably.”
“I didn’t see you fall,” he murmurs, wiping the towel over his face in a way that makes him look so god damned sexy. I wish he’d stop doing that, like right now.
“Well, I probably did.”
“Looks like finger marks. Someone hurt you? Was it that fuckin’ douchebag who came past when I was there? You got a problem, you call the club and we’ll sort it out.”
“Oh, really?” I mutter, jerking my shirt down as if tugging it will stretch it ever further over my body to cover the scars I hold there. “Seems to me the club doesn’t trust me; they don’t want me involved and yet you’re telling me I could just turn to them? I doubt that.”
He tips his head to the side, pinning me with a gaze that has my skin prickling—in a really, really good way. “You might not like how Alarick does things, hell, you might not like how it fuckin’ goes down sometimes, but the fact of the matter is they’d have your back, cop or not, and you know it.”
Do I know it?
I don’t know.
What I do know is that this conversation is getting a little too deep and a little too sore for my liking.
“I have to go to work.”
I turn and grab my things, my heart a little heavier in my chest than it was a moment ago.
Then I get the hell out of there.
There are enough questions going on in my life right now.
I simply don’t need anymore.
“ZARIAH, IS IT?”
I look up from the mountains of paperwork I’m slowly sifting through on my desk to see none other than Steven Blanche standing in the doorway. For a moment, I’m completely stunned. He works around here, but an average cop like me doesn’t get to interact with him. Occasionally we’re sent to do jobs for him, but he’s the highest officer here and an investigator. He doesn’t talk to people, especially people like me.
“Ah, yes,” I say, immediately straightening.
Steven Blanche, also known as Bull, is a hell of an investigator. He’s well known throughout the state and is often called into different cities for his expertise. He has taken down some of the most prolific killers, including infamous serial killers. He is well sought after and basically a hero to anyone in the field wanting to be what he is—which is me.
When Alarick told me they had suspicions that he’s involved with the selling of girls, Dax and Peter, I didn’t believe him. I just can’t see how someone who is so incredibly talented and smart, who brings bad people down for a living, would be interested in risking everything he’s likely spent half of his life working for, to help someone like Dax, Peter, and whoever else is involved in this horrible case.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’m working on a case right now, and I’m in need of an extra few pairs of hands. Are you interested?”
Wait, what?
He wants me to help him? He doesn’t even know me. There are at least twenty officers in this place that would literally fight each other to be put on one of his cases. He rarely gets the help of other officers; he’s usually a one man show and he’s bloody good at it. Why he’d come in here, and pick me, I don’t know.
“You want me to help you? May I ask why?”
It’s a stupid question, I should be jumping at the chance considering this is something I’ve wanted since I became a cop. Working with him will be a leg up and put me exactly where I need to be, so risking losing it by asking questions is plain old stupid but I can’t help but wonder why he’d be wanting my help.
“I’ve heard you’ve been looking into the investigation field and want to expand your horizons. I’m looking to take a couple of students, so to speak, under my wing.”
I’m going to hyperventilate.
“And you picked me?” I squeak, and then cover my mouth, horrified that I sound so god damned pathetic. I quickly try to cover it up. “I’m sorry, I’m a really big fan, and I’m in a little bit of shock right now.”
He grins and, when he does, it transforms his whole face. Steven “Bull” Blanche is a good looking man, which helps his cases in a big way. People want to talk to him, women especially. He’s got the kind of face that should be on a magazine cover—come to think of it, I’m fairly certain it has been once or twice.
He’s got this chiseled jaw line with large brown eyes framed by thick lashes. His skin is a soft olive and he’s always sporting a five o’clock shadow which gives him a slightly rugged edge. His hair is always cropped short and neat. He’s tall, yet well-built and lean. He actually reminds me of the actor that plays Lucifer on that new show that I may, or may not, have binged watched. You know, dreams of being a detective and what not.
He has a slight accent; I can’t pick where it’s from, though. A quick background search would tell me his origin.
“You should hold yourself in higher regard, Zariah. I’ve been told great things about you.”
By who? I want to sputter, but I don’t.
Nobody here likes me, most of the men treat me like crap because I’m a woman. The other female cops in the station are older and mostly retired. I’m the only young one who is looking to climb up the ladder. I don’t know who would have put my name forward.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking who put my name forward? Because as I’m sure you can probably imagine, being a young cop, a young woman cop, doesn’t always make things easy around here.”
Blanche leans down on my desk, getting in a little closer, so I can smell his very masculine aftershave. “I have my methods. Let’s just say I don’t ask the other police officers who they think should suit, they’ll always tell me themselves. I ask the other people, the ones who are always watching but nobody notices. The receptionists, the cleaners, the janitors ...”
Proving just how smart he is.
“Your receptionist said you’re the nicest person here and always bring her lunch, even when you’re so busy you don’t get to eat your own.”
My heart swells. I love Jacey at the front desk; she’s so nice and she works so many hours. On my way to work each day, I go past a deli and I always pick her up her favorite turkey sandwich. I did this because one day I saw her faint because of hunger, because our stupid boss wouldn’t let her go on a lunch break. I wasn’t going to let that happen again, so I make sure every day she has something to eat, even if she can’t leave her desk.
“The cleaners, two, in particular, said you always clean your office and empty your trash, like you’re trying to make their job a little easier. They also told me every Friday you leave them a bottle of wine each on your desk.”
I’m probably going to cry in a minute.
That’s true, the two cleaners, older ladies, named Betty and Muriel, are always so nice to me and, as with everyone else female around here, they don’t get treated the same. They’re working hard and they’re most certainly underpaid. I like to know that I can help them out by doing my bit, and everyone deserves to go home on a Friday night to a nice glass of wine.
“The janitor said that when he’s in here on a weekend, you always bring him a muffin from the local bakery and tell him that you won’t tell if he eats it in the supply closet.”
I laugh. Old Jake. He’s so nice and does all the repairs and harder work around the office. He’s only in on the weekends whe
n the two cleaning ladies aren’t here, and he’s quiet and sweet. He’s such a nice man and reminds me of my grandfather, so I like to give him a treat.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Those are the kinds of people I want working for me, the people who selflessly help others over themselves. All the other officers might tell me they’ve got the most experience and the most knowledge, but they’re not who I want on my team.”
Sweet Jesus.
It’s a damned miracle.
“So, would you like to work this case with me?”
Would I?
Sweet lord, yes.
I know I’m taking on a lot, being that I’m secretly helping Alarick find Dax, but I can fit in this, too.
“I’d love to, I really would.”
He grins and stands up straight. “Wonderful, I’ll be getting permission from your boss to take you for the next month or two. We’ll be working here, but you’ll be relieved of all your other duties during that time. This will go very well for you stepping up into a higher role, Zariah. Congratulations.”
I’m going to cry.
No, no I’m not.
“Thank you so much, it’s an absolute honor.”
He smiles and then tells me he’ll be in touch.
With that, he leaves.
And my whole world is changed forever.
5
ZARIAH
I open my front door when a knock sounds out to see Alarick and Kendric standing in the doorframe. I stare at them for a moment, quite surprised to see them here. “What do I owe this pleasure?” I mutter.
I haven’t spoken to Alarick since he refused to allow me the chance to know who he got information about Blanche from. He kept me on the sidelines after everything I’ve done and, quite frankly, I’m still pissed about it.
“Can we come in?” Alarick asks, peering past me when he noticed Jayden come barreling out from the kitchen with an apple in one hand and a truck in the other. “That your boy?”
“No, I stole him off the street,” I murmur, shoving the door open so they can come inside.
Jayden skids to a halt when he sees the two very big, very scary men standing in the doorway. He’s not met anyone from the club, mostly because I never involve my son in any of my business, work or otherwise. But I know they’re good people, so I have no problem with them meeting him.
“How are you, little buddy?” Alarick asks, squatting down so he’s not so scary. “Is that a fire truck?”
Jayden looks at the truck in his hand and then looks back to Alarick. “Yeah,” he says in his cute little boy voice.
“That’s a cool truck. I have a cool motorbike I ride; do you want to see it sometime?”
Jayden nods. “Bike!”
“Yeah, bike.” Alarick grins, standing. He looks to me. “He’s a cute kid.”
“Yes, I know,” I say, my voice a little too full of sarcasm.
“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, Zariah, and I get why, but you gotta understand I just got fucked over in a big way, Kendric took the fall for it, and my club has a fuckin’ snitch I don’t know about. You gotta understand my hesitation.”
“I understand it, Alarick, but you shoving me aside when I’ve already risked so much makes me feel like you don’t trust me. I don’t appreciate that.”
Kendric crosses his arms, and then his eyes flitter to Jayden when he walks up to him and hands him the truck. Jayden rarely approaches strangers, he’s a really shy kid, so to see him walk up to the big, burly biker has me pausing. I’m not sure if I pause in concern at how this is going to play out, or awe that my little boy has the guts to walk up to a stranger in such a confident manner.
Kendric looks down at my son and surprises me when he too squats down and says, “How are you, boy?”
Jayden gives him the cutest, shyest smile I’ve ever seen and then reaches for Kendric’s hand and demands, “Play?”
Oh god, he wants to play with him.
My heart flips and feels a little strange.
“I’ll play with you in a minute, okay?”
Jayden lets Kendric’s hand go and turns, sprinting toward his room to, no doubt, grab his toys and prepare them.
“You don’t have to play with him,” I say, my voice careful.
Kendric straightens and looks to me. “I don’t have anything against your son.”
No, just me.
Of course.
I look back to Alarick. “What are you here for exactly?”
“We’re here to fill you in on what we’ve found out about Steven.”
I exhale. This feels a lot to me like they’re wasting their time looking for the wrong person when they should be focusing on Dax and Peter. I’m not going to turn them away though, considering I’m about to start working with Steven. I’m curious to hear what they have to say, even though I don’t believe he has anything to do with it.
I just can’t come to that conclusion, no matter which way I try to present it to my brain.
“Come in.”
We walk into the kitchen and take a seat at my dining table. Both men sit down, and Alarick starts talking immediately.
“We’ve got word that he’s been seen with Peter, speaking to him and exchanging information.”
I frown. “That could literally be about anything. Steven is an investigator, how are you to know that he’s not working for Peter or even working the case on Dax? The station has that case pretty high on their radar right now.”
“You could be right, but we found a document in relation to the selling of those women, and on one of them that we managed to pull up, there is a receipt stating that two women were sold to someone of the same name, that’s not a coincidence.”
Okay, that’s a bit sketchy, but it could be a way of concealing something else, too. Perhaps they were using Steven’s name to cover another track. If it goes down, they take someone else. That’s a logical plan.
“There could be a number of reasons for that. Look, I’m not saying that he has nothing to do with it, and I’m going to look further into it from my end, I’m simply stating I can’t see why he’d risk his entire life and career for something like that. He is well known and does an incredible job ...”
Alarick and Kendric look to each other, and then Kendric states, “You know how fuckin’ deep this goes, we’d appreciate your help on this.”
Well, that’s probably the nicest thing he’s said to me.
“Send me the documents you’ve got, I’ll run them through some databases at work, see if I can pull any information off them. Also, I’m now working with Steven on a case. He personally asked me to.”
Alarick frowns, crossing his big arms. “He asked you to?”
“Yes.”
“Out of nowhere?”
I exhale. “Maybe I’m good at my job. I’m not the only one he picked.”
“You didn’t consider that he’s gettin’ close to you because he knows you’re workin’ with us and wants to cover all his bases?”
Well, now I’m considering that.
“I have,” I lie, “but I’m not going to pass the opportunity up if he actually wants my assistance. I’ve been waiting for this chance for a good long time.”
“Do it,” Kendric murmurs. “You working with him gets us even closer.”
“I’m not doing it for information,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“Can’t hurt to fuckin’ gather it while you’re there, find out what you can. You’re working directly with him, it’s the perfect opportunity,” Kendric fires, his jaw tight.
“I’m not risking my job ...”
“You fuckin’ owe it to us.”
“That’s enough,” Alarick barks, then looks to me. “Zariah, we’re not goin’ to make you risk anything but would appreciate if you could, at the very least, keep your eyes peeled when around him. Listen out, if anything comes up, let us know.”
“I can do that,” I say. “I’ll see what I can find about the receipts. Where di
d you find that information?”
“We have our sources,” Alarick says, his voice stern.
He’s not going to tell me where.
Fair enough.
“Well, get those sources to keep digging. The more we have, the closer we’ll get to finding Dax. Are we any closer to locating Peter?”
“Peter has been seen, but he’s clean as a fuckin’ whistle. The man is smart, and we have no reason to barge in and demand shit. One wrong move, Kendric is going down, otherwise I’d have the skinny fuck tied up doing things to him you couldn’t even imagine for information.”
I have no doubt.
I try to turn my cop brain off when I hear that. I know some of the things Alarick and the club do would have my hair standing on end, but I also know they’re good people. In a strange sense of the word. They’ve helped me, and I know that Kendric doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him. For that alone, I’m going to make sure that he’s cleared. Then, well, then I’ll probably have to cut my ties with the club.
It’s not safe for my career to be friends with them.
Even though the idea of not having them in my life bothers me.
“What about Aviana? Have you made contact with her?”
Alarick glances at Kendric, who exhales and growls. “There’s somethin’ off there. She’s twisted up in somethin’. We’re tryin’, still tryin’.”
She could have the answers we need.
“Have you thought about getting Briella to try? Considering the two were best friends?”
“Yeah,” Alarick answers. “Don’t like her involved in this, but it might be the only way. Her friend Karen has been quite savvy in helpin’ us with computer work. She’s good at findin’ shit and so we’ve got her helpin’ to get some information, too.”
Karen’s nice, I like her. The more hands the better, I suppose.
Sometimes, though, more hands means more chances of getting caught.
Either way, we’re in so deep now I don’t think it matters anymore.
“What about Cova and Merleigh?” I continue to question. “They’ve been in amongst it. Surely they might have something we haven’t heard of yet. A name? A location? Something that stands out?”
