Hard Time

by Loki Renard

  That probably holds true for everyone in the justice system. Everyone behind bars has their story. In the end, it’s what you do that counts. Leon killed a man. Leon assaulted an FBI agent.

  “Leon beat Sonya…”

  “No he didn’t,” Jasmine says softly. “That was my father. Your friend beat Leon up for something he didn’t even do.”

  She doesn’t say it angrily. She says it matter-of-factly.

  I let out a soft sigh. Justice is being done, but this is a mess. Jasmine lost her mother a long time ago. Today she lost her father. Next, she’ll be losing her brother, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to stop that.

  From what I know, Leon Francoise broke after ten hours of interrogation. The boys put some serious pressure on him. The kind that stays off the record and off the books. The kind we’d deny in a court of law and the kind he’ll never be able to prove. From what I hear, he was resistant and arrogant. He was Francoise through and through, but in the end, he broke down and told us everything.

  “I will see what I can do for him.”

  “You don’t owe him anything,” she says. “You should put him in prison. It’s what you do.”

  I don’t like the turn this is taking. I don’t like the way her voice is changing. She doesn’t sound like my girl anymore. She sounds cool and disconnected and resigned.

  I can’t have it both ways, I suppose. I can’t have her be my sweet, trusting, open girl and also have her be calm about what’s happening to her family.

  “It’s okay to be upset, Jasmine. It’s even okay to hate me, if you need to.”

  “Is it?” She looks up at me dubiously.

  I gently take her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “I’m doing my job,” I tell her. “But that doesn’t mean you have to like it. You can be mad at this daddy.”

  Her lower lip quivers. Her face crumples. She takes a deep breath and lets out a wail of pure pain. There it is. There it all is. I hold her close as she sobs against me, her hands clenched into fists against my chest.

  “Please don’t put Leon in jail,” she begs. “Please, please, he might have saved me when he killed my father. Jaques wasn’t going to tolerate me for much longer. If you put Leon in jail, it will be like… like… like my father won. He broke us all.”

  I hold her as she begs for an outcome that isn’t entirely in my control. Leon Francoise deserves to go to jail. An argument could be made that Jasmine does as well, but she’s been cooperating, and she has been so heavily victimized by her family that no jury is going to put her away even if charges were brought.

  She cries herself out against my chest, and when she’s done, I take her and I put her to bed. She’s worn out from stress and utterly exhausted, so she doesn’t put up too much of a fight. She falls asleep, curling up in my arms, still whimpering for mercy she knows neither one of them deserve.

  By the time Jasmine wakes up tender bottomed and with red-rimmed eyes, I’ve had some time to pull some strings. I can’t make everything right, but I can start to make it at least a bit more bearable for her.

  I’m close by, in the next room when I hear her call out in sleepy tones. She sounds distressed at waking up alone.

  “You weren’t supposed to leave me,” she says accusatorially.

  “I didn’t leave, little girl. I was right here.”

  “No, you were over there…” she pouts.

  Down the track, I’ll be working on molding this behavior into something a little less demanding and rude, but right now, I like that she’s trusting me with these feelings. She needs me, and she’s letting me know.

  “Well I’m sorry, princess,” I say, sitting on the bed and drawing her into my arms. “What did you need me for?”

  “Nothing,” she says, curling up with me. “I mean, everything.”

  I chuckle and hold her close. “When you’re ready, we should head out. I’ve been working on some things.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Just wait and see.”

  She gives me a suspicious look, but she doesn’t whine.

  When she’s had her fill of cuddles, she gets cleaned up and dressed and I take her into the city. She’s very quiet as we get closer to the building where I work. I reach over and pat her knee to comfort her, but she’s stiff.

  “Okay so you changed your mind and you’re going to put me in jail after all, is that it?”

  “That is not it,” I say, parking the car. “Come on.”

  I hold her hand, sensing how uncomfortable places like this make her. Institutions of authority and Jasmine Francoise are not a great mix, but they’re going to have to be in the future because she’s my love, and this is my life.

  There are a couple of guards outside the door of the room we’re going into. I nod to them, they nod to me and open the door. I draw Jasmine in behind me and hear her gasp.

  “Leon!

  Leon looks a much paler version of his usual cocky self. That’s because he’s sitting next to what might be the biggest agent we have - Eric Stone.

  Eric used to be a Marine. He’s a no-nonsense sort of guy, and he has absolutely no time whatsoever for disrespectful bullshit. He jumped at the chance to handle Leon Francoise, saying something about liking them feisty. Leon can give Eric all the hell he wants - Eric will enjoy it, and give it back double.

  Judging by their relative positions, I’d say they’d had a run in already. Leon looks cowed, to say the least. He’s not a small guy, but everyone is small compared to Eric.

  “Hi Jasmine. Here to kick my ass too?” Leon says. He looks like he wants to get up, but he doesn’t dare. Eric is less than a step away and he shakes his head, indicating Leon needs to stay sitting in the chair.

  “I should,” she says, giving him more sass than I expect. “You didn’t even notice the whole house was surrounded with feds.”

  “Feds you bought to the door. Feds you probably sneaked in.”

  “Yeah, well,” Jasmine shrugs. “I guess we’ve all got our faults. Some of us fuck law enforcement, others shoot our fathers in the goddamn face.”

  “Best thing I ever did,” Leon snorts.

  “Yeah,” Jasmine agrees.

  This is the oddest sibling bickering I’ve ever borne witness to.

  “This is the deal we’ve cut,” I explain to Jasmine. “Leon is going to be an asset. Eric is his handler.”

  Jasmine’s eyes go wide. “Wow. You flipped.”

  “Apparently it runs in the family,” Leon smirks.

  Eric says nothing. Just stands there, very tall, very stoic, like a man made out of concrete and steel. I see Jasmine looking at him with curiosity, and maybe a little fear. Leon doesn’t respect anyone, but he seems to already be deferring to Eric. That’s because Eric will kick his ass if he puts a toe out of line, and Leon is smart enough to know when he’s beaten. His every move, word, and breath are going to be tracked from here on out.

  “So you don’t lose your brother,” I say to Jasmine. “Good news, right?”

  “Thank you, Rico,” she says, the relief evident in her voice.

  “Yeah, thanks Rico,” Leon adds. He still sounds sarcastic, until Eric makes a gruff sound and raises a brow, at which point Leon’s tone changes considerably. “I mean, thank you,” he adds. “I know you could have just thrown me into prison and let my dad’s associates kill me. I’m lucky you didn’t.”

  That speech sounds rehearsed, and I have a good idea who rehearsed it with him. This might actually work, if Eric has the time and interest to truly whip Leon into shape. Both of the Francoise kids have potential, but it’s going to take some work to get it out of them.

  “It is a pity though,” Jasmine muses. “You look good in orange.”

  Leon rolls his eyes. “Yeah well, you look good…” he glances over at Eric and whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue.

  “There’s something else,” I say, interjecting before they can start squabbling and get one or both of themselves into trouble. “Y
our mother.”

  “What about her?” Leon stiffens. Jasmine turns toward me, her arms folded over her chest. This is a sensitive subject for both of them.

  “She has been in witness protection for the past decade. She’s been feeding us information on your father. She was our first in. Made is possible to start really gathering information on your family and your father.”

  “Wow,” Jasmine breathes. “That would really piss him off if he wasn’t dead.”

  “What a fucking…” Leon again aborts his commentary as Eric moves just a hair closer to him.

  “It wasn’t safe for her to be in contact with you until this matter was resolved. It was too dangerous for her, and for you. But she’d like to see you both. Today.”

  “I don’t want to.” It’s Leon who speaks first. His lips are thinned and pressed together, and I can see he’s fighting an outburst. I can only begin to imagine the mommy issues that boy has. I don’t blame him for not wanting to see her. She did leave them to their father’s mercy. She didn’t have a choice, but kids don’t understand that emotionally, and there’s some part of Leon that might not ever forgive her.

  Eric reaches out and puts a hand on Leon’s shoulder. “You don’t have to see her,” he says, his voice deep and surprisingly sympathetic.

  “Good, because I don’t want to.”

  “You just shot our father in the face for hurting her…” Jasmine says wonderingly. “Why wouldn’t you want to see her?”

  His lip curls in a sneer. “Because she was weak. Because she should have stayed. Because she should have taken us - or at least you. You would have been so much safer, Jazz. You would never have gotten beat up like you did - or the rest of it.”

  There’s so much latent anger in the pair of them. Jasmine seems prepared to let it go, but Leon’s holding on tight.

  “She left us,” he growls. “And I couldn’t save you. So I hurt you.”

  “Leo…” Jasmine softens her voice and practically runs over to him, wrapping her arms around her brother’s neck. “We did what we had to survive. I forgive you.”

  “You shouldn’t,” he says, hugging her one-armed. “You should shoot me the same way I shot that asshole we called a father. I was just as bad as he was.”

  “Not just as bad,” she says. “You tried sometimes.”

  “Wasn’t good enough though.”

  “It’s over now. It’s going to be okay. Rico is going to make it better.”

  “I hope he does make it better for you,” Leon says, glancing over at Eric. “I don’t think it’s going to get better for me for a while.”

  “It will get better when you learn to behave yourself like a good boy.”

  Eric’s second full sentence, delivered in gravelly tones, makes Leon damn near blush. Jasmine lets out a laugh.

  “Oh my god, you’re in trouble,” she smirks, stepping away from Leon. “You have no idea how to be a good boy.”

  “About the same idea as you have of being a good girl. Good luck with that, Rico.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t worry about Rico. Worry about you,” Jasmine says.

  It’s good advice.

  “We need to get going, Jasmine. You can see Leon again another time. Eric and I can coordinate meetings.”

  “My people will speak to your people,” Jasmine says, giving Leon another quick hug. She’s so damn forgiving. I’d understand it if she wanted her brother to rot in a cell, but that’s not her way of being. She just wants everything to be good - not that she’s ever had anything good. Until now. Now I’m going to make damn sure she has the life she deserves.

  “Come on,” I say, extending my hand for her to take. “It’s time to meet your mother.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jasmine

  This whole thing feels so surreal. My brother, repentant and subdued and in custody. My father, the man who’s kept me in constant fear, dead. Rico, the man I’ve longed for but written off as far too good for the likes of me, protective and caring and vowing he loves me. And we’re going to see the woman I thought was dead. It’s almost as if I can’t process all of this, like I’m going to blink my eyes or wake up and find myself somewhere else. Parts of this have felt like nightmares and parts dreams. I want to stay in the dream and not wake up this time.

  So when Rico walks me down a long, dark hall, the sounds of murmured voices around me fades as I focus on him. Tall. Strong. His large, warm hand holding mine, our fingers laced together in a way no agent in this building has missed. I want to savor this moment, because I know that good things like this don’t last for a girl like me.

  “You’ve been a brat, but you haven’t been a bad girl.”

  Just thinking of him saying those words makes another lump rise in my throat, so when he asks me if I’m hungry, I can only shake my head. I can’t speak. And when he scowls in that way that says he’s not buying it, my belly does a little flip, because it doesn’t matter if I push him away or deny his efforts to care for me. He’s going to anyway. And I fucking love that.

  “We’ll leave soon, and have something to eat when we get home,” he says, as we approach the office at the furthest end of the hall.

  Home.

  Have I ever really had a home? My family’s lived such a transient life, I’ve never really considered any place home. I have no childhood remembrance of holiday traditions, or markings on a wall showing how I’ve grown over the years. No special family heirlooms or memories I’ll cherish. What I value and hold on to is what I have here. Now. So when I grasp his hand tighter than normal and tuck his arm against my side, I don’t really think about what I’m doing. It’s more instinctive than anything.

  He pulls me into a vacant doorway. Leaning against the doorframe, his face is cast in shadow. I can see a faint line of silver at his temples and his strong, furrowed brow, but little else. He traces his thumb down the apple of my cheek to my jaw, and cups my face in his large, strong hand. I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel this.

  “They’re gone,” he says. “Those who will hurt you. They’re gone now.”

  I nod, and he pulls me to his chest, his voice low but strong. “You’re going to need me to keep telling you this. You belong to me now. You’re mine to protect and mine to care for. Mine to cherish and mine to love. Mine.” I glide my arms around him, holding onto him. He chuckles. “The only thing you have to fear from now is when your bratty behavior lands you face down over my lap.”

  My body heats at his words and I purr against his chest. “Is that right? I’m beginning to think you like putting me there,” I tease.

  His erection pushes up against my belly, proving my theory. “What gave you that idea?” he asks and when I laugh, he lifts my chin. “That’s my girl,” he says approvingly. “There’s the little spitfire I know and love.”

  Before I can respond, he’s kissing me, holding me to him when my knees go weak, with one hand on the small of my back and the other grasping the back of my neck. His kiss says what my heart longs to hear.

  I love you.

  You’re mine.

  Too soon, he pulls away and whispers in my ears. “Let’s finish our work here so we can head home.” There’s a promise in his words, and my heart races with excitement. I long for the familiarity of home. Time alone with Rico. The simplicity of a domestic life with my bossy bear of a man.

  I nod and let him take my hand again as he leads me to the large, glossy door at the very end of the hall. My heartbeat accelerates. Will my mother be waiting for us there? But when the door opens, there’s just a man dressed in a suit at a desk, waiting for us. Rico leads me in, and the man gives me a curt nod. He’s younger than Rico by about a decade, slim and severe-looking. Under normal circumstances, this is the type I’d avoid, the by-the-book agent with an ax to grind. But here with Rico, I’m safe. The man sits up straighter and nods to Rico. “Sir.”

  “Gordon,” Rico says. “Colt’s filled you in, I presume.”

  “He has.” The agent’s jaw tigh
tens but I can tell he’s holding himself back from what he really wants to say. He likely knows my history, then. A knock sounds at the door, and a man I recognize as Sonya’s man Colt steps in the room.

  “Have a seat,” Rico says. The only other seat in the room is the one I’m sitting on. In one swift move, Rico lifts me out of the seat and slides me onto his lap, gesturing for Colt to sit. Gordon’s brows raise before he can control his reaction, but Rico doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, he scowls at Gordon as if challenging him to question him, and Gordon closes his mouth and looks back at his computer screen. I nestle against Rico’s broad chest, a warmth seeping through me as his arm comes around me and tucks me into him. I feel little, safe, protected, sitting upright on the lap where I lost my mind belly-down just a few hours prior. My core tightens at the memory of that spanking.

  “This is Jasmine Francoise,” Rico says, “And she’s with me.”

  Gordon’s lip curls up in a snarl. “Clearly. I suppose you’re more comfortable in his lap than a jail cell?”

  Rico’s body tenses around me and he growls dangerously. “Do you have a problem, agent?”

  Colt chuckles beside us but Rico ignores him.

  Gordon looks from Colt to Rico to me, clearly outnumbered.

  “She should be a convicted felon, sir,” Gordon says with disdain.

  “For your information, agent, she’s been granted amnesty with new information that’s been brought to light. Her cooperation with us means she’s no longer under arrest or a suspect.”

  “You have that all on record?” Gordon snaps.

  “Oh, Gordon,” Colt says beside me, clicking his tongue warningly. “You speak far too freely. I’m warning you, you do not want to push this envelope.”

  I lean against Rico. His low, stern growl commands the attention of everyone in the room. “Enough, agent. We’ll speak of this later.” I don’t really know how Rico is going to handle this, but it dawns on me that I don’t need to. Rico’s got this.

  “We’re not here for your ridicule,” Rico says, his harsh, stern tone making me shiver. “You speak out of line one more time and I’ll have your badge. Am I clear?”