ReDefined

by Michele Zurlo

  She wanted to ask what title he preferred—or had she crossed an invisible line and stuck her foot in her mouth yet again?—but he headed off, dragging her behind. They caught up with some red team members and ambushed the green base, which meant they didn’t lose as bad as the green team did. However, the blue team won.

  When they arrived at her house, he walked her to the door and gave her a hearty hug. “I had a great time. Thanks for skating with me.”

  She hugged him back. He smelled heavenly, and his body felt good pressed against hers. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  Once again, he left without attempting a kiss. A few hours later Amy lay in her bed more confused than ever by his mixed signals.

  The next morning found Jordan stuck in a small, dark room. The screen he watched flickered, throwing shadows around the place and reflecting asymmetrically from the tinted windows. Turning on the florescent overhead lights only made the details of the screens difficult to discern. It reminded Jordan of his great-grandfather who used to sit alone in a dark room and watch television until he fell asleep. Long after they were supposed to have been asleep, Jordan and his brothers used to dare each other to sneak downstairs and brave the eerie glow. Jordan always accepted the challenge. Not only did it give him street cred with his younger brothers, but Poppa would give him a handful of whatever treat he had nearby. He waited until after Poppa passed away to let his brothers in on the trickery.

  But this was not nearly as fun or interesting. Watching local police interrogate suspects in a multitude of armed robberies didn’t usually fall within their jurisdiction. However, now that they knew the robberies were related to the rash of crimes that ultimately ended in an assassination, it was their investigation.

  Dustin took a hefty bite of his breakfast burrito and slurped his coffee. “I have no fucking clue what I’m looking for.”

  “Any indication that they committed the robbery because they’re part of The Eye.”

  Dustin crumpled up his wrapper and threw it at Jordan’s head. “Thanks. I had no idea.”

  Easily catching the projectile, Jordan launched it back. “This is definitely the sucky part of investigating.”

  “Do we have footage of the robberies? Maybe they left behind graffiti like Matt Gordon did.”

  It was a solid idea, one that had already occurred to Jordan. “Copies and crime scene photos should be here by tomorrow. At least we know what we’re doing for the rest of this week.”

  “Yippee.”

  “Did you get that bench put together?” Jordan wasn’t one for impact play, but he did like the bondage options a spanking bench presented.

  “Yeah.” Dustin grinned widely. “It was a definite hit.”

  “Rim shot.” Jordan acknowledged the pun dryly.

  “You can’t say ‘rim shot.’ You have to actually make the sound.”

  “My way kicks the mockage up a notch.” Jordan stretched his long legs under the table. “So, Layla likes it. You must not have used it for discipline yet.”

  “I can’t discipline her physically. It’s a hard limit.”

  Jordan nodded. He knew enough about Layla’s background to understand why that would be a hard limit. “I prefer creative discipline anyway. There’s nothing like the sight of a woman standing in the corner with her panties around her ankles. It almost makes you forget what she did to earn it.”

  “I haven’t tried that one yet, but then again, I can’t see it working with Layla. She’d probably shake her cute ass at me, and I can’t resist her ass.”

  Jordan sat forward and rewound the video he’d been watching. Something had caught his attention, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Dustin stopped talking. Working so closely for the past year, the pair had learned to read one another perfectly. Dustin stopped the tape he’d been watching and scooted closer to peer at Jordan’s.

  The door opened, but neither of them turned. The door closed, and whoever it was stepped closer. “Find something?”

  Jordan recognized Malcolm’s voice. “Don’t know. I can’t quite figure it out, but something is off.” He rewound it again and played the tape. The perp’s hands tapped against the table, a steady rhythm that belied a yearning for his next fix.

  You were clean for five years. What happened?

  I lost my job. My girlfriend moved out. Life went to shit. What do I have to lose?

  Your freedom. You’ve admitted to armed robbery.

  The perp shrugged. His gaze sidled around the room. You got me.

  Jordan paused the tape and peered closer. The image was too grainy to be sure. “Matt Gordon had a similar attitude. He was taking one for the team.”

  Dustin frowned. “And they’re both Jonesing for their next fix. But that’s not enough to establish a relationship.”

  “Jordan’s going on instinct again.” Malcolm clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Now you have to find an actual link.”

  Jordan agreed. “Yeah. We need to question this guy.”

  “We need to finish watching film first,” Dustin said. “Going out there armed with information is critical.”

  Malcolm pulled up a chair. “Speaking of armed with information, I’d like to know what’s going on with you and Amy.”

  Dustin lifted a brow. “You and Amy? I’m crushed. I’m your partner. You’re supposed to tell your partner these things. I told you when I went out with Layla.”

  “I didn’t go out with Amy.” Talking about it at this point seemed premature. What if it turned out that she wasn’t compatible with him after all?

  “You took her to dinner on the Huron Belle.” Malcolm leaned back, waiting for the story.

  Jordan recognized that it was time to come clean, though there really wasn’t anything to tell. He didn’t want to alienate one of his best friends. “I took her out to thank her for talking sense in to Jamie. Thanks to Amy, my sister isn’t going to move in with her boyfriend for at least a year.”

  Malcolm frowned. “Oh. That’s what Amy said.”

  The comment rubbed Jordan the wrong way. “She wouldn’t lie. Amy’s a very honest woman.”

  “True,” Malcolm said. “And helpful. She’s nothing if not nurturing.”

  Amy needed to be nurtured. She spent too much time taking care of other people. “And I took her skating last night. We played laser tag too. It was fun.”

  Dustin perked up. “You think she’s a little?”

  He had his suspicions. And hopes. “Maybe.” He looked at Malcolm. “I’m not going to lie. I find Amy very attractive. I know she’s open to exploring the lifestyle, but she doesn’t know anything about the Daddy/little dynamic. My plan is to spend time with her and develop a friendship.”

  “You want to take it slowly.” Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “When are you going to tell her about your brand of kink—before or after she falls for you?”

  “Before. I don’t plan to do anything not on the friend level until I’ve told her everything. Then, if she wants to explore a relationship, we can. If not, then I’ve made a new friend. You can never have too many friends.”

  Mal looked away, thinking, and that worried Jordan. When Dustin had told Malcolm about Layla, Mal’s reaction had been immediate. Ditto for Keith and Katrina—though his response to that pairing had been a little on the violent side.

  “I won’t hurt her. I’m being very careful.”

  At this, Malcolm nodded. “I can see it now. It explains so much. I wonder why I didn’t see it before?”

  “Because you’re focused on Darcy and Colin.” Dustin sipped his coffee. “Which is okay.”

  “It explains why she hasn’t clicked with any of the Doms I’ve picked out for her.”

  This was news to Jordan. He scowled. “Why are you picking out Doms for her?”

  “Because she asked me to. She signed up on a dating site, and I vet potential candidates. I’ve approved a few, but so far she hasn’t done more than meet with any of them for coffee. If what you suspect is true, then I’ve been going
about this all wrong.”

  It rankled to know that Amy was actively looking for someone when he was right in front of her face, but at least she was going about it safely. Malcolm would not only interview each man, but he’d run a background check as well. His scowl eased as he reminded himself that she didn’t belong to him, and she had every right to go on dates. “Well, you can stop looking until further notice.”

  “She already asked me to take a break. She wants to focus on the wedding, and I think she’s discouraged because she hasn’t liked anyone yet.” Malcolm got to his feet. “At least there’s no chance of her being thrown into this investigation and put into danger like the rest of the women in my life. Jordan, I trust you to treat her well. However, be extra careful. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and that makes it easy to break. If you hurt her, Darcy will never forgive you.”

  The rest didn’t need to be said: If he was in the doghouse with Darcy, it would damage his friendship with Malcolm. Jordan nodded. “Noted.”

  Dustin clapped his hands together. “It’s the way he’s looking around the room, as if he thinks someone is watching.”

  That was it. Jordan’s eyes widened. “Yes. That makes sense. Gordon wasn’t surprised to see a man on the inside.”

  “Looks like you’re going to need warrants for surveillance and listening devices,” Malcolm said. “I’m going to get Dare on this. By the time this gets going, I’ll be on my honeymoon.”

  Liam Adair was gifted with bugs and hacking. Though Jordan hadn’t worked directly with Dare before, they sometimes hung out during their off hours. He nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Malcolm sighed as he headed to the door. “I’ve been called in for a meeting with the Director. I probably shouldn’t be late.”

  Dustin chuckled because Malcolm was habitually tardy. “What are you in trouble for now?”

  “Don’t know. I’m not aware of anything I’ve done lately to piss off the higher-ups. Maybe he has a wedding gift for me.” Malcolm flashed a wry smile before closing the door behind him.

  Jordan wasn’t inclined to comment on his buddy’s penchant for playing fast and loose with rules and FBI procedure, so he merely exchanged a look with Dustin that communicated a sincere hope that nothing was amiss.

  ________

  “Agent Legato is here to see you, sir.” The unexpectedly smooth baritone floated through the intercom on the phone.

  Miguel Lawrence enjoyed a moment of disgust before schooling his features to disguise his true feelings. He hated Malcolm Legato because the man was too good at his job. In the past few years, the exceptional agent had walked on the edge of being too close to The Eye. Taking down Victor Snyder had presented a serious blow to his arm of the organization, and Legato had proven to be relentless when it came to investigating the information gleaned from the hard drive he’d recovered from his fiancée’s dishwasher. Reining in his impulse to indulge further in feelings of hatred, he told his assistant to show the agent into his office. “Show him in.”

  Legato entered the room as if he owned it, exactly the opposite of the attitude Lawrence expected of his subordinates. “Good morning, Director. How are you?” He held his hand out, not offering a handshake, but demanding one.

  This was another reason he hated Legato. In fact, he hated almost all the agents under Brandy Lockmeyer. The bitch had a knack for hiring agents of both genders with dominant personalities. Even the women didn’t know their place. Lawrence shook hands briefly, controlling the duration, and then he indicated the chair across from his desk. At least the fucker sat when ordered to do so. “Agent Legato, I’ve called you in as a courtesy. I’m officially closing the book on the Snyder investigation. You’ve mined as much data from that drive as you’re going to get, and your talents are needed elsewhere.”

  As expected, Legato frowned. “With all due respect, Director, we’ve linked information on that drive to the Friedman investigation. It helped us crack a nationwide human trafficking ring and saved over one hundred and seventy children who were being exploited. There’s more on the drive, but it’s encoded.”

  Lawrence knew all of this. He’d seen the files on the drive—both the encoded and unlocked ones—and he needed his agents to stop digging. If they didn’t, then the Detroit operation would go the way of the Chicago cell, and he’d end up in Federal prison. He smiled tightly. “That’s precisely the reason I’m sending it to Quantico. They have more resources for this sort of thing.”

  “Sir, I’m close to cracking the encryption. I just need a little more time.” Malcolm’s jaw set firmly, and Lawrence recognized the stubborn resolve that led to such a high rate of case closures. That rate wasn’t in The Eye’s best interest.

  Leaning back against the edge of his desk, Lawrence positioned himself to loom over Agent Legato. He sought to diminish the man’s power. Judging by the way Legato’s dark eyes flashed, he considered his move successful. “Our resources are already stretched thin. I’ve indulged you in this project for long enough. It’s time for you to focus your efforts on your other cases. By my count, you have five open investigations and four recently cold cases. The families of those victims deserve answers, Agent Legato. It’s your job to provide them. And I need not remind you of the above-average number of infractions and reprimands recorded in your file already.”

  Duty meant the world to this agent. It was his Achilles heel. Lawrence watched a war rage behind this agent’s eyes, but at last acceptance won the battle. It probably hadn’t hurt to remind Legato of the problems in his record that already stood in the way of him ever getting a promotion. “You’re sending it to Quantico, then?”

  “I already have.” And if a powerful magnet happened to erase all that data en route, all the better. “Any information they uncover pertaining to this branch will be sent our way.”

  “Fair enough.” Agent Legato rose in such a way that left no doubt he hadn’t surrendered an iota of his personal power. “Thank you, Director. If there’s nothing else, I won’t take any more of your time.”

  This time Lawrence extended his hand, but he motioned to the door. “You can go.”

  As he watched the door close behind the dedicated agent, Lawrence allowed himself to revel in a moment of smug satisfaction. He’d blunted the tip of one thorn, but he had several more to remove. Monaghan and Brandt were next on his list. The men were wading into dangerous territory with their investigation. This would have to be managed carefully. Of course, in a perfect world, these men would become stalwart followers of The Eye. Under his control, they’d become mercenaries. They’d be powerful assets that would pave the way for Lawrence to eventually take over The Eye.

  Now he needed to make sure Legato stayed on his leash, and making sure the agent’s immediate supervisor kept a close watch was the next item on his agenda. He pushed the button on his intercom. “Get me Brandy Lockmeyer.”

  ________

  Amy didn’t see Jordan for the next few days, though he called and texted several times. Their interactions were completely innocuous, and that kind of pissed her off. She hated the mixed signals. What if he saw her as a replacement for his sister? She decided on casually digging for the truth via text.

  Do you ever get homesick for Wisconsin?

  Since it was the middle of the workday, she wasn’t surprised when his reply came a few hours later. Sometimes. Why?

  Just wondering.

  That’s not an answer.

  His dominant tone came through loud and clear with that one. She sighed. It seems like you miss your sister.

  What makes you say that?

  You keep calling and texting me.

  I don’t see how one thing has to do with the other. Maybe I like you.

  Her heart thumped, but she refused to let her immature side squeee over that one. He didn’t mean anything substantial by it. Maybe I remind you of one of your sisters.

  You do not remind me of any of my siblings or of home. You’re interesting and we have fun together.

&n
bsp; A buddy—that’s what she was. She was the safe female friend who wouldn’t raise eyebrows with any woman he dated. It made sense, and Amy resented being cast in that role. When she didn’t reply, he texted again. Babe—What’s wrong?

  Though he’d used the term before as an endearment, she didn’t reply. Her bratty side had been riled.

  Do you want me to leave you alone?

  Did she? No.

  Are you busy Sunday afternoon?

  He knew her schedule was open on Sunday. Amy couldn’t bring herself to make up an excuse to not go. What if he really liked her and she blew it by not going? Was indulging her inner brat worth ruining a sort-of/maybe with Jordan? I should be home by 2.

  At two o’clock Sunday afternoon, he knocked on Amy’s door, the contents of their last text exchange playing through his mind. He couldn’t pinpoint the cause of her upset, and talking with Malcolm hadn’t been helpful. Mal had merely shrugged and said he hadn’t talked to Amy about anything but wedding-related topics.

  The door opened, and Amy stood before him in a playful sundress. The bodice hugged her breasts and accented her generous curves, and the flowered skirt flowed around her legs. The whole thing was held by two straps on each shoulder. Undressing her would be a simple matter. He struggled not to stare at her shoulders as if he could move those straps by telekinesis, and so he forced his gaze upward because he’d done so well not indulging in his need to stare at her breasts. Staring would lead to touching, and they weren’t there yet.

  He met her crystal blue gaze. “You look nice.”

  This time she smiled at his compliment. He’d finally stumbled upon the right thing to say. “Thanks. So do you.”

  He opened the screen door. “Can I come in?”

  “I’m ready,” she said as she stepped aside to admit him. “I just need to grab my purse, and we can go.”

  “I want to talk first.”

  She twisted a strand of hair around her finger nervously, and he noticed that she’d pinned it back with two barrettes. Her appearance and innocent demeanor combined to make his dick jerk to life. He breathed to maintain control. It wouldn’t do to try to talk to her about what was bothering her while he sported a raging hard-on.