by Diana Gardin
Why’d I let her do this? Why the fuck did I let her walk into an unknown situation?
My stomach clenches in a repeated fisting pattern, tightening and loosening on a regular cadence. I don’t even blink while I wait.
My eyes catch movement on the sidewalk beside my car, and I glance toward the passenger side. A young woman strides down the cement, and I watch as one of her heels catches on a crack in the path. She stumbles, but continues moving with a worried glance over her shoulder. I glance behind her, too, my eyes narrowing. But there’s no one in pursuit, even though every instinct in my body tells me this woman is in trouble.
She’s in her mid- to late twenties, if I had to guess. She appears younger, but the way she carries herself screams maturity and self-assurance. Her high heels and short skirt aren’t out of place in this neighborhood, but they’re as good as wearing a neon sign that sends a signal for the wrong type of man to approach her. My mouth turns down in a scowl and I’m out of my car before I even think twice about what I’m about to do.
Crossing in front of my car toward the young woman, I stop in front of her on the sidewalk. Scanning the area around us, I look down at her. Her eyes widen with panic for just a moment before she tries to paste on a coy smile.
But on her innocent face, it just seems so wrong. Her expression, the clothes. This girl doesn’t want to be doing what she’s doing. I know it deep down in my gut.
“Hey there, baby. Do you want—”
“I don’t want anything from you,” I cut her off. “But for you to give me the name and number of someone I can call to get you the hell out of here.”
She takes a step backward, her lips pulling between her teeth in what first appears to be confusion. Then her eyes narrow in determination.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me that you want to be here. Doing this. Let me help you.” My voice comes out gruffer than I mean it to, as my eyes stray back down the street to where I know Hawke’s garage lies. There’s nothing I can do for Indigo right now but wait, but this woman?
She’s right in front of me. I can help her.
Her eyes narrow in suspicion, and she makes a move to sidestep around me. Shaking my head, I reach out and snag her wrist as I shake my head.
“Don’t move.”
I jog to the passenger side of my car and reach inside, grabbing a napkin and a pen out of the glove box. Jotting the name and number of the Underground and my own cell on the rough fabric, I then make my way back to the woman standing on the sidewalk. She starts to move past me.
“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but I don’t need saving.”
Her tone is clipped, but the tremble in her words betrays her.
“That’s exactly what you need.” Thrusting the napkin at her, I point toward the number on top. “Listen, this is me.” I point out my name, knowing damn well I shouldn’t be giving her this information, not in this neighborhood and at this time.
The woman’s eyes zero in on the NES logo beside my name. Flipping the cards so that the second one is on top, I point toward my sister’s name. “This is someone who has helped lots of women like you. Women who don’t have anywhere else to go or anyone else to turn to.”
The woman’s eyes fly up to mine, and there’s a flash of indignant anger there.
Good. She hasn’t lost all her fight.
“That fire you feel right now? Hold on to it. And call my sister. If you have any trouble with whoever put you out on this street tonight, you call me. You got that?”
Looming over her, I hold her gaze until I see the words I’m saying, what I’m offering, click into place. She nods, placing the cards carefully in the pocket of her skirt. Then, without a second look at me, she walks around me to continue her path up the street.
This time, I let her go. I’m about to climb back into my car to continue my tense wait for Indigo when the sound of gunshots pops off in the distance.
In the direction of Hawke’s garage.
I slam the car door behind me as I turn and run, my heart attempting to beat right out of my fucking chest, toward the place I heard the sound of gunfire.
Toward Indigo.
13
INDIGO
Stopping just outside the front door to Hawke’s, I take a deep breath. The cool metal of my gun slowly warming against the skin of my leg and the steel of the blade I know is nestled just beneath my boot is giving me comfort. Lawson, a couple of blocks away, sits in his car.
I’m trained. I’m tough. I have the kind of survival instinct most people never have the need to find within themselves. I’m confident in my abilities. But there’s still this feeling in my stomach, something like what performers must feel in the moments before they step onstage.
Nerves.
Settling deep in my belly. Making my stomach twist and knot and sending a cloud of anxiety drifting around my insides.
You’ve got this, Indigo. It’s just a meeting. You’ve taken down men three times your size in back alleys. You’ve outsmarted drug lords and kingpins. You can handle Eli. Believe it.
It’s a pep talk I’ve given myself countless times, every time I’m about to walk into a dangerous situation.
Exhaling, I push through the glass front doors and am greeted by one of Eli’s trusted associates, the man I’d met in passing a few days ago.
“What’s up? You taking all my fun away again tonight?” I offer him a smile that’s free of any of my usual bite, nothing but sexy innocence.
His eyes flare with interest as he scans me from head to toe, and then offers a sinful smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but then the door to the office opens and Eli is standing there. His expression is impassive as he gestures toward me.
“Hello, GoGo. Nice to see you again.”
I note that he doesn’t eye me up and down the way the other men do; it’s like he’s purposefully keeping his eyes glued to mine instead of to my body.
“Bruno,” he barks, shifting his attention to the man inspecting me. “Make sure she’s clear.”
Bruno’s lips tip up even farther as he nods. “We need you to strip.”
My head swivels between the two men as cold water floods my veins. “I’m sorry, what?”
Eli’s smile grows just a little bit wider as the gleam in Bruno’s eyes brightens.
“Oh, nothing shady happening here, GoGo. We just need to make sure there’re no wires or weapons hidden on that beautiful body of yours.”
There’s nothing sexual about his comment, just the cold glint of a one-track business mind on display. Eli didn’t come here to play.
He came here to make sure no one is playing him for a fool. And if he finds out I’m a cop…there’ll be no saving me.
I make a snap decision. There’s no other choice here but to do what he says. Filling my lungs with air, I level my stare at Eli while I step out of my boots. Then I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my black pants and shimmy them down my hips. My brain revolts as my heartbeat clamors in my chest. But I finish stripping down to nothing but my bra and underwear, and then I spread my arms wide as I glance down at myself and then back at Eli.
“There. All my goods on display for your pleasure. Are we all good here?”
Eli flicks a hand toward my boot, where my knife and my gun lay discarded beside them. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, yeah. We’re good now. Get dressed, and let’s talk.”
I stifle an eye roll as he turns his back on me and walks back through the office door. After I’m dressed again, I turn my back on a leering Bruno and follow.
When I enter the office, Hawke stands from his seat beside Eli, who’s busy with his phone. Hawke shoots me a cool smile, but his eyes are telling me how sorry he is about what just happened. I lift my chin in greeting, hoping he gets the message that I’m not holding it against him. Being forced to strip down to almost nothing in front of Eli and Bruno was humiliating, but I know that in the end it’ll be worth it.
Eli sits back in his seat, scanning me with appraising eyes. His are the color of flint, so dark his pupils are hidden. Reading his expression is almost impossible.
“There’s a car. It’s even sweeter than the one you and your boyfriend brought me last week. You steal it. We’ll sell it. And boom, you and Logan are six figures richer.”
I rest my chin on one hand, drumming my long, dark-painted nails against my jaw as I evaluate him.
“What car?”
I haven’t agreed to anything, but Eli smiles like he’s already won. I allow one flickering glance at Hawke, whose eyes jump between us like an addict following his stash.
“It’s a McLaren roadster. The owner is new in town…He’s having his car shipped in from California. I. Want. That. Car.”
Sweat beads on my forehead. Since agreeing to this case, I’ve been researching luxury cars. And the one he’s talking about? It costs over a million dollars. The payday on this for Eli would be astronomical.
Swallowing back the bile rising in my throat, the anxiety riding the wave inside my gut, I summon up a casual nod. “Yeah. We can do that. Give me the information you have on the car and the owner. Logan and I will make it happen.”
Eli’s grin curls across his face, the morning sunset creeping from one corner of the sky to the other. He glances at his cousin with a pointed expression. “That’s the first car.”
My blood pauses its rushing through my veins, turning to ice. “There’s another?”
Eli tips his head to one side, as if trying to read my thoughts. “There’s a beautiful little Ferrari Sergio sitting in a five-car garage in Kure Beach, just waiting to join my fleet. I want that one too.”
It feels like I’m having trouble forming words. “What’s the time frame on the Ferrari?”
“I need it within two weeks. If that’s going to be a problem for you…” Eli lifts a brow.
I cut him off with a shake of my head. “It won’t be.”
Eli’s seductive smile reappears. “We’ll be in touch.” He presses something small into my hand, and I curl my fingers around a flash drive. “On this you’ll find everything you need to know about the cars you will boost and the owners they belong to. I’ll be in contact when the McLaren is shipped and at the docks. Get the job done.”
It’s at that moment that the unmistakable pop, pop, pop of gunfire rips into our conversation. Three sets of eyes swivel toward the closed door, and Hawke is immediately on his feet.
“What the fuck?” Eli’s voice comes out of him in a snarl as he sits forward on his chair.
He follows Hawke, whose hand is already twisting the doorknob. He pokes his head out, looks left, then right. He mutters a curse and whispers in his ear.
Eli is out the door before I can blink, and Hawke tosses a concerned glance over his shoulder.
“Stay here.”
My back teeth grind together, but before I can open my mouth, Hawke is out the door.
Has he forgotten who the hell I am? There’s no way in hell I’m staying in this room like some kind of sitting duck while someone’s shooting out front.
I’m halfway to the door when I pause; the sudden lightweight sensation where my gun would normally be alerts me to the fact that I’m not carrying. As a police officer, I’m used to running headlong into dangerous situations. As an undercover officer, I’m accustomed to unpredictable situations and people.
But I’m always armed. When Eli took away my weapons, he took away some of my armor. I’d be willing to bet on myself when going hand to hand with a perp, but not if that person has a gun and I don’t.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Whatever the hell is going on out there, I’m not going to sit in here like a victim.” My heartbeat thunders against my ribs as I silently turn the doorknob and ease myself out of the small office.
The hallway beyond is dark, but the sound of raised voices drags me forward, pulling me toward the garage bays.
“STOP HIM!”
Eli’s roar forces my feet to jerk to a stop, and as I focus on the end of the hall, a figure looms there, just before pelting toward me at top speed.
My sharp intake of breath is the only warning I have that I’m about to be hit just before a man’s heavy body slams into mine. Pain reverberates in my right arm as it slaps against the wall, the rest of my body following. My head cracks against cinder block, and my vision swims as my knees buckle and I sink to the ground.
The sound of pounding footsteps retreating is the only sound I hear as I shake my head to clear it. Bracing one hand on the wall beside me, my vision blurs as light floods the hall and Hawke sprints toward me.
“Fuck, GoGo.” He stoops to help me to my feet. “I told you to stay.”
Attempting to shrug him off does no good; Hawke’s grip on my arm is viselike. Using his strength, I pull myself toward him and hiss through gritted teeth. “At what point did you become my boss, Hawke? Have you forgotten that you work for me? Don’t ever tell me to stay put again.”
Hawke rears back like he’s been slapped. “What the fuck is your problem? I was telling you to stay put for your own safety. You don’t think I realized you were without your weapons? Dammit, GoGo…I’m on your side here. I’m trying to protect you in all of this, just as much as I’m trying to save my own ass.”
My heart softens as I look into his sincere caramel-colored eyes. “I get that, Hawke. But I’ll never need anyone—”
“Where is she?”
Lawson. The sound of his voice, raw with panic and fury, sends my emotions and my body into overdrive. Wrenching my arm away from Hawke, I force my feet to head toward the garage bays. The sound of Lawson’s voice rises until it’s a shout, and Eli’s returned yell spurs me to move faster.
I’m still woozy from how hard my head slammed into the wall, and something warm and wet trickles down the side of my head, but I don’t let it stop me. My steps are uneven, and the emotion wells up inside my throat, but I burst into the garage bay just in time to see Lawson take a threatening step toward Eli, whose hand snaps immediately to the gun at his waist.
Three armed men also step forward, but I launch myself into the middle of the fray before all hell breaks loose.
“I’m right here,” I breathe, my body rocketing into Lawson’s chest.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Lawson’s words are muffled as he buries his face in the crook of my neck, his arms sliding around my waist.
I’m hit with a feeling of relief so strong my knees nearly give out for the second time tonight.
“I heard the gunshots.” Lawson pulls back, his hands going to either side of my face as he searches my expression. “Are you—”
His eyes land on what must be blood and an anger so pure flares in them that I lose my breath.
Without taking his eyes from me, he aims his words, sharp as daggers, at Eli and Hawke.
“What. The fuck. Happened. To her?”
Lawson uses ginger fingers to probe the area around my wound. My vision has cleared, leaving a dull pounding on the side of my head. Wincing from the pulsing pain, I remove his fingers by taking hold of his hand in my own.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, holding his gaze with my own.
Lawson’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say a word.
“What was that?” I ask Eli and Hawke, turning away from Lawson but keeping a tight grasp on his hand. “Who was shooting?”
“There was an intruder.” Eli’s tone is simmering with seething rage. “Someone was inside the garage and was attempting to steal my Ferrari.” He glances at Hawke. “We need to move these cars, and we need to do it yesterday.”
Hawke scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah. I know. I’m working on it. I found transport. Williams will be here tomorrow to move them to the docks, and they’ll be covered there until the sale in tw
o weeks. He’ll move another shipment next week.”
Eli’s lip curls as anger rolls off him in ripples. “What if that bastard tries to steal from me again? What if he opens his goddamn mouth?”
Hawke’s hands drop to his hips. “I told you I’d get you a transport. Someone I trust. I’ve done that. Like I said…he’ll be here tomorrow night.”
Lawson speaks, the barely concealed rage in his voice pulling the tension in the room even tighter. “I’m taking my girl home. And don’t think I’ll forget that you returned her to me in less than perfect condition. You’ll pay for this, Eli.”
Eli stares Lawson down, a slow smirk dawning across his face. “Your girl should do what she’s told next time. And I’ll let her fill you in on the assignment you two have. As you can see, our timetable’s just been moved up. You have one week until the next pickup, GoGo.”
Without another glance at Eli, Lawson pulls me from Hawke’s garage, my head still spinning.
14
LAWSON
No words escape my mouth as I fly through the streets of Wilmington, narrowly missing red lights and squeezing through the yellow ones. I don’t stop until I’m back on the beach side of town, where my apartment with Indigo waits for us.
Indigo’s just as silent as she sits in the passenger seat beside me, staring out at the brightly lit city as it flies past us. But when we turn onto the block where our duplex sits, her soft, steady voice echoes through the interior of the car.
“I’m okay, Lawson.”
Fury lances through me, wrapping around a sliver of icy fear. I blink too fast, trying to beat back the sudden sting that meets my eyes. Instead of answering her, I jab a finger onto the screen in front of me until the car’s Bluetooth system engages.
After two rings, a voice reaches through the speakers. “Hello.”
“It’s Sleuth. We need a doctor sent to our apartment.”
