by Mara Leigh
Nick shot to his feet. So did I.
“Hey, guys.” I put myself between then. “This isn’t going to help.”
“Pounding Shane into the floor would sure as fuck help me.” Nick glared at Shane.
“Look.” I held up my hands. “We all want Keagan released, right? Let’s focus on that. Dill? You learn anything?”
Dillon set down his coffee mug. “Sully says they’ve got video surveillance of Keagan at the scene.”
“I thought you took care of the security cameras,” I said to Dillon.
He winced. “I did. All the ones at the dockyard, but there’s a business across the road from where Keagan was. Didn’t know they had a camera. If I’d had more time to plan this—”
“So again, it’s my fault?” Shane shouted.
“No one said that.”
“I did,” Nick grunted.
“What does Sully suggest?” I asked Dill. Sean Sullivan had been our family’s lawyer since I was a kid—a guy from Da’s past.
I wondered it was time to find someone else, someone younger, but until we unloaded this haul we didn’t exactly have a ton of cash to hand out on retainers, especially after all the cash I’d dropped in Vegas.
Dillon pulled the handle on his recliner and stretched out. “We need to go after the ADA who’s prosecuting his case. Marisol Flores.”
Nerves stirred my stomach. “What do you mean, ‘go after’?”
“Gotta be some dirt on her,” Dillon said. “She’s got two cell phones. That’s suspicious for starters. I installed a spy tracker on her work phone this morning. Her personal one should be easier.”
“Great.” It was something. “If nothing else, we’ll know what the enemy’s thinking.”
“I’ll get into her e-mails, social media, everything.”
“What’s her reputation?” Nick asked.
“Squeaky clean,” Dillon answered.
“Then why waste all this time looking for dirt?” Nick asked. “Risk getting caught?”
“It’s not a waste.” Dillon flipped his long bangs off his forehead. “Fact that she looks squeaky clean just proves she’s not.”
“How you figure that?” Nick asked.
Dillon shrugged.
“Everyone’s got something to hide,” I interjected. “Dillon’s right. If she presents herself as squeaky clean, nothing even vaguely sketchy on her work phone and computer, then there’s a higher probability she’s hiding something. That second phone… Keep on it.”
“You the boss now?” Dillon frowned at me.
“I am second oldest.”
“By ten fucking minutes.”
“You want to take charge?”
Dillon laughed, then picked up his coffee cup and drained the dregs.
“What about selling the haul?” Shane circled the sitting area, still frenetically pacing.
“Isn’t it a little early for coke?” Nick asked him.
“I’m not high.” Shane stopped in front of Nick and lifted his chin. “Maybe you’re the one on drugs!”
Nick laughed. “That’s a joke, right? Look at him.” Nick appealed to Dillon and me. “He’s high as a kite.”
“Let’s stay focused,” I said. “First priority is getting Keagan released, but we do need to unload the stash.”
I turned back to Dillon. “Sully have any idea why they’re holding Keag without bail? Why this Flores woman is so worked up about a container of TVs and sound systems?” It still didn’t add up, which was why I wanted to be cautious about unloading what we’d stolen.
Dillon shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense. Sully says not to worry, that she’s just a young ADA trying to prove herself, but that’s bullshit. She’s already got a great reputation. Doesn’t need Keagan for that.”
“Maybe she thinks Keagan’s connected?” Nick added. “We do live in Shady Oaks. Wouldn’t be a stretch to think we’re part of the syndicate.”
“Could be it.” I took a long sip of my coffee, hoping the answers would be housed in caffeine. “We did an inventory of the haul. Shane was right about one thing.”
“Hey!” Shane butted in.
“Stuff in there is high-end, latest models, some industrial-sized screens worth fifty grand each—wholesale—and there’s a lot of it.”
“And baby formula,” Dillon added.
“What?” Nick barked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Strangest thing. Couple of skids worth of baby formula stashed in the middle of the good stuff. Bizarre. Must have been a screw-up when the container got loaded.”
“Dump it in the bay,” Nick said.
I shrugged. “Might be worth something.”
“Not compared to everything else.” Shane started pacing again. “When are you going to sell the goods? When do we get paid?”
“Patience,” I said to Shane. Nick was right about him being high. I stood and wrapped my arm over his shoulder. “As long as Keagan’s under arrest, we’ve got to be careful. Glad I worked that contact in Vegas.”
Fourteen
Mac
“So this is your place?” Faith walked into my apartment.
Suddenly I was nervous, conscious of the pizza boxes on the counter, the tile floor that hadn’t been washed since I could remember, the unmistakable tang of male in the air. “Yup.”
“I like it.” She turned toward me, a huge and genuine smile on her face. “Very comfortable.” She went to the fireplace, crouched and touched the tiles. “What’s this style called? It’s beautiful. Such intense colors, the blues and oranges and golds.”
“Mexican? Spanish? I’m not sure. The first Europeans to settle in California were Spanish, so there are a lot of influences, I guess.”
She straightened, and I crossed over to her, taking her in my arms from behind and burying my nose in her hair. Would I ever get sick of the smell of her? Soap and citrus and something so Faith.
“Is your brother home?” She put her hands on my arms and stroked them gently.
“Why? You afraid we’ll get caught?”
“Caught doing what?”
“Fucking,” I rumbled low in her ear and felt her respond in my arms, a wave of desire rippling through her spine and sliding her body lusciously against mine.
“Is that what we’re about to do?” she asked, her voice breathy. “I thought you asked me over to talk.”
“I did.” Brought back to reality, I loosened my hold on her, then taking her hand, I led her to the sofa. “Want anything to drink?” I headed toward the fridge.
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Mind if I have a beer?”
“Go right ahead. You don’t need to ask my permission to do things, but…”
I turned back just as I was about to open the fridge. “But what?” I grabbed a beer and joined her on the sofa.
She was quiet, hands clasped on her lap.
“What’s wrong, Faith?” Did she already know what I’d done? My stomach tightened, and I took a sip of beer, hoping to calm it.
“Did you mean it?” she asked. “When you said you were leaving your criminal past behind?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but she continued, “Did you just say that to…” She looked down at her hands. “To get me into your bed?”
“Faith.” I set my beer down on the coffee table. “No.” I felt sick. I hadn’t lied to get her into bed, but if I wasn’t careful, I’d lie to her now. On the other hand, if I told the truth, I’d lose her.
She stared at her hands. “I know I’m not the most beautiful woman, or the most interesting—”
“You are to me. Both of those things.”
She held up her hand. “Let me finish.”
I nodded.
“Well, maybe I was finished. It’s just that I know that men, some men… that it’s not uncommon for men to tell women lies to get sex, and I’m inexperienced… I can’t tell when… How can I be sure that you didn’t manipulate your way into my, my panties?” Her cheeks were bright red,
and I wanted more than life itself to put her at ease.
“Faith.” I turned toward her and put my hand on the back of her neck. “Some men lie. That’s true. And to get sex? Definitely. But that’s not what went down with us. At all. I thought we were past this.”
She shook her head. “Yes, me, too. It’s just that Sister Henry and I talked the other night, and she doesn’t believe you left your criminal past behind.”
“You told her about my past?”
“She already knew. And I assured her that you weren’t doing crime anymore. That you wouldn’t lie to me.”
My chest tightened. “I am leaving my criminal past behind.” I meant it, but these things took time.
Guilt shot through me, and I tried to tamp it down. It was a lie of omission. I’d done one last job to help my brothers and give me a nest egg to start over. Give me and Faith a way to start over. And I was done now. I just needed to dump the goods.
Which reminded me of the question I’d wanted to ask her.
“Do you need baby formula?” I blurted.
“What?” She pressed her hand into her belly. “I’m not… Can you tell? This soon? I got my period after Vegas. You know that.” Her skin had turned pale.
“Oh, baby.” I cupped her worried face. “I didn’t mean formula for you.” We’d been using protection. “But if you’re ever late… Promise you’ll let me know?”
She nodded.
I kissed her forehead. “I meant the mission. Do they need baby formula? There are little kids there, right? A refugee shelter? A daycare?”
“Yes, why?”
“I’ve got some. Quite a bit actually, and I thought I’d donate it to the mission.”
Her eyes lit with happiness, then narrowed. “How did you get baby formula?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Not everything you imported was stolen, right?”
“Right.” But this stuff was.
I should tell her. I needed to tell her. But the mission needed baby formula, and I had some to donate. It was hard to see the harm in this—beyond my white lie.
“Point is.” I cleared my throat. “I have some baby formula. If you don’t want it, I can sell it, but whoever buys it will just make more money reselling it.”
“I’m sure we can use it. Can I let you know this afternoon at basketball?”
“Sure. That’s perfect.” And it tempered my guilt to know at least one good thing was coming out of this deal.
Her face lit up. “I’ve got something to tell you, too.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” My thumb stroked her neck.
“I told Sister Henry that I don’t have a calling. It was a huge relief to get it off my chest, but I guess now I need to look for a job, and a place to live.” A hint of worry broke into her optimism. “I had no idea living in San Francisco was so expensive. I get why you’ve got a roommate.”
I leaned toward her. “Maybe you and I could be roommates.”
Her eyes opened wide, then she smiled. “I’d like that. I mean, I never thought I’d ever be roommates with a man who wasn’t my husband.” She shook her head. “I never really thought I’d ever have a husband, but the idea of sharing an apartment with you, making a home.” She leaned against my shoulder. “It sounds perfect.”
It did sound perfect; it sounded right.
I ran my hand up and down her arm as she snuggled against me. Because of Faith, I saw my future in an entirely different light. She’d made me want things I never even imagined I’d want.
And right now I wanted to take her to bed.
Mac
“Did you dump the formula?” Dillon asked, not looking up from his trio of computer screens.
“Yup. Got rid of it last night.” I flipped through the app I’d been searching, hoping to find an apartment I could afford. “Why?”
“Shit. I figured out why the ADA is so interested in Keagan.”
I lifted my eyes from the app. “Really? What?”
“It’s the baby formula.”
“Fuck you.” I dropped my phone to the sofa. “I thought you were serious for a second.”
“I am.” Dillon looked up from his computer screens and met my gaze. “Dead serious.”
“You’re going to have to explain that one.”
“Turns out this Chinese trafficker uses baby formula to smuggle drugs.”
“What?” I walked toward him, my chest tightening. “You think there were drugs in the baby formula?”
Dillon tipped back his chair and stretched. “Yup. Picked up some chatter on the dark web.”
“About our container?”
“Nah. Just general talk about baby formula being a perfect cover.”
“That’s a relief.” I punched his shoulder. “You fucking scared me.”
“But there’s more.” Dillon turned to face another of his screens. “Look at this e-mail. It’s to Marisol Flores, the ADA on Keagan’s case, from someone in the DEA. It directly mentions both China and baby formula.”
“Shit.”
“I know, right?” Dillon rocked his lifted chair legs back to the floor. “This is great.”
“How is it great?”
“It gives Keagan leverage.”
“But we don’t have the baby formula, never mind any drugs.” This job had gone wrong in so many ways. Had I now involved Faith in it?
“The ADA doesn’t know that. She only thinks that Keagan stole the container. Based on her other e-mails with the DEA, sounds like they could give a shit about the theft, or even the small amount of drugs inside. They want the Chinese dude. They just want Keagan to give him up.”
“Someone he doesn’t even know.”
“Exactly.”
I felt sick. I had to get the boxes out of the mission.
I’d screwed up again. Possibly the worst screw-up of my life. And if anyone at the mission found the drugs, not only would I go to prison, I’d lose Faith.
Faith
My stomach fluttered the instant Sister Margaret told me that Mac was in the gymnasium. He was two hours early for basketball—a huge bonus. We could get in some kissing before the children showed up.
I opened the gym door and found him leaning against the far wall under the basket, like he thought the whole place would come down if he moved. Clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, his strong shape made me gasp.
As wrong as it seemed, I could not take my eyes off the crotch of his jeans. For someone who’d never experienced lust until recently, I’d certainly gotten the hang of it.
The door clanged closed behind me.
Mac jumped and pushed off the wall. “Oh, hey!” He waved casually, like I was a mere acquaintance, but I did not let it bother me for more than a second.
Instead, I ran toward him and jumped into his arms. Our kiss was exactly what I needed and wanted, except that the longer we kissed, the more I needed and wanted more than just a kiss.
My heart filled with joy. This was my life now, my life with Mac. From now on, every day would be filled with this kind of happiness.
He broke away from our kiss, and I slid down his body to the floor.
I kept my hands on his shoulders. They were tense. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His nose twitched. “But I do need to talk to you about something.”
“What is it? The kids will be here in less than two hours. Doesn’t give us much time for kissing.” I grinned, but the smile I got back from him was tight and tense.
“What’s going on?” I said.
He shook his head and placed his hands on my waist. “Nothing’s wrong. But I need the baby formula back.”
My head snapped back in shock. “Why? You only delivered it last night.”
“I know.” He bit his lower lip lightly and looked to the side. “It’s complicated. Turns out I’d already promised it to someone, and I can’t back out of the deal.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” From the look on his face, he felt terrible about it, but it was only fair that he have the option
to sell it, instead of making a donation, especially if he’d already promised the buyer. “It’s okay, Mac. You don’t need to feel so guilty.”
“But I do feel guilty. I already gave it to you.”
“It’s okay. Really.” That he felt so bad about this was further proof of Mac’s innate goodness.
He turned away, eyes focused to the side.
Curious to see what he was looking at, I turned, but found nothing except the fire hose cabinet. I pulled his face toward mine. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He shrugged, but saw the tension in his shoulders, in his eyes.
“Mac, come on. It’s written all over you. Something is wrong. This isn’t just guilt.”
“It is guilt.” He shook his head. “So much fucking guilt. If I’d only found out a day sooner…”
“Found out what?”
His face blanched, and he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple looked like it got stuck halfway down. “I need the formula back. Right away. It’s not safe. There’s something else inside of the cartons.”
“Bad formula? Is it expired?”
“No, it’s drugs, Faith.”
I laughed.
“I’m serious. Heroin, I think. I have to get those cartons out of here.”
I staggered back from him, not fully processing what he’d said. “Drugs? How did they get there?”
“The less you know, the better.”
My chest nearly caved in from pain. “You lied to me.”
He looked down at the gym floor.
“You said you never dealt drugs. You said you were done with crime, but you weren’t.”
“No, I have given it up.” He reached forward, then dropped his arm. “I have now. I just had to do one more job. These things just don’t stop on a dime, you know, and my brothers needed me. They were relying on me. Plus, I’m going to donate some of the haul. Not just the formula. Try to do some good.”
“That makes up for it?” My eyes stung with anger and disappointment. “Donating stolen goods?”
“No.” His head shook vigorously. “It doesn’t make up for anything.” His voice broke. “I get that. It was the last time. Honest. Please let me make this up to you.”
