“Zio,” she sighed. “I can’t believe this is. I’ve got to do something. Eagle can’t get away with this.”
“Don’t worry about that. He won’t, but it’s out of your hands to make that happen. Do you know what would happen to you if you tried to go up against him? You're already in danger, just because he see’s you as a potential threat. Imagine if he knew you had it out for him.”
Monica, who had stopped her pacing to listen to his story, began again. With a frown on her face, her teeth worried her bottom lip as she tried to process everything that she’d just learned. She walked over to the window to the balcony and stared out at the view of 5th Avenue, with Central Park in the distance. She loved any view of the city. New York had always been her home, and she loved the city with all her heart, but now when she looked out at the fast moving traffic and the hazy glow of the city lights, all she saw were the shadows lurking around every corner. She had blinded herself to the darkness that existed all around her, choosing instead, to focus on the good fight. Could she accept the fact that not much of what she did mattered? Not unless someone else approved it. Meeting Zio had altered the way she saw certain aspects of life. He’d awakened all sorts of dormant feelings and desires, but he also showed her the ugly side of life—the complicated world of bribes, friends in high places, and threats of murder. He was offering her a way out, but she didn’t know what to make of it. Would it make her a criminal? Or was it the smart thing to do? She turned to face the man who had turned her heart and her world upside down.
“I don’t know if I can run, Zio,” she whispered softly.
“And I can’t stay. After I leave here, my phone goes dead. George Hines, will be dead.”
Scratch stood up, needing to go to her when he heard the sad confliction in her words. Taking his time, he slowly removed each floating diamond cufflink from his shirt. Then he loosened his tie and pulled it from around his neck, flinging it across the room before he began to unbutton his shirt. He wasn’t sure what her final answer would be, but on the off chance that she said no, he wanted to leave her with one last memory of him.
Monica watched him with a hunger that left her shaking. She watched as he discarded his crisp white dress shirt. Her eyes feasting on the sight of his muscular torso offset by the tattoos that turned him from an accountant to a sexy bad boy. His hands were working his belt as he came to her, and her breathing hitched when the motion of his steps sent a whiff of his cologne and man essence her way.
Scratch’s dark gaze pinned her in her place—backed against the cool glass panel of the balcony window, with her hands clutched to her sides. Her fingers flexed with the urge to touch him, and she thrilled with the anticipation of what was to come.
Scratch placed one palm to the glass pane above her head. With the other hand, he let his fingers trail down the delicate skin on the column of her neck, down between her cleavage, over her belly until he snaked it around her waist and pulled her closer. She gasped, slammed with the urgency of her need for him.
“Do you feel this,” he whispered against her sensitive earlobe.
“Yes,” she responded breathlessly.
“Do you trust me?”
Monica stared back helplessly. Not even understanding how she knew she should trust him as she nodded yes.
Scratch looked deeply into her eyes, wishing he knew the right words to make all her fears go away. He looked at the petite, frightened creature in his arms and didn’t want to imagine the possibility of leaving her behind.
“You don’t have to decide right this second,” he murmured. “But you will need to make a choice. I don’t want to be without you Monica. I need you to understand that.”
With that, he leaned in and took her mouth in a tender kiss. Monica’s restless hands found a home in the waves of his hair as she pulled him closer. The silent room was now filled with his heavy breathing, and her sighs and murmurs of longing.
The flashing lights of the city they both loved, illuminated them in a warm glow as Scratch showed her why she didn’t want to be without him either.
Chapter 19
Monica
Leflaie’s Puligny-Montrachets wine was amazing to Monica. It helped her relax after a long damn day—gave her a chance to enjoy a light buzz that wouldn’t affect her the next day at work, and just feel good. Tonight it wasn’t working though. She could barely think straight, and the wine just slid down her throat and didn’t sit well with the crows flying around in her stomach. Right now she could barely breathe without wanting to cry. All because the man she was tied to with no way out wanted her to run away with him. Wanted her to leave behind her family, friends, career, and life. To go on the run from authorities who wouldn’t even know how to find them once they were off the grid.
Oh the idea of being able to go to some amazing tropical island and live out her life in the lap of luxury sounded nice, even made amazing sense in the movies, but in real life? What would she do never being able to talk to her brother again? To just live her life, day after day, with Zio and his team of misfits? Did she even think she could be so cut off? Not to even mention that to leave with him she’d be breaking every oath she’d ever swore on, right hand in the air. She’d sworn to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies: foreign and domestic. To bear true faith and allegiance to the same. She swore to faithfully discharge the duties of her office, no matter what she thought or felt.
Now she stood at a crossroads, with the decision that would make her become a domestic enemy. That would make her the exact person she swore to take off the streets. And the worst things about it? Breaking the oath wasn’t the hardest part of any of this. No, it was the idea that if she didn’t take that step, if she couldn’t, she would lose out on the love of a man that she would never, in her life, encounter again. He would be nothing more than memories to keep her lukewarm at night, and untouched for the rest of her life. Every man after him would be just pale shadows. And the thought of losing that scared the shit out of her more than being a fugitive angered her. It made absolutely no sense.
She sighed roughly, getting up from her dining room table, slipping over her floors easily in her footie socks, her black yoga pants and FBI sweatshirt silent and comfortable. She slid the rest of her dinner into the garbage disposal and left her wine on the counter. It wasn’t helping much anyway. A knock on the door had her freezing. She wasn’t expecting anyone. On silent feet she went for her sidearm and gripped it. Then she edged toward the door.
“It’s me, Monica. Don’t shoot me through the door,” Axe called through the wood. She rolled her eyes as she opened the door. He was not who she wanted to see. Not by a long shot.
“What are you doing here, Axe?” she asked, leaning on the doorjamb as she tucked her weapon in the waistline of her pants.
“Not going to invite me in, Monica?” She hated that he kept calling her Monica. She called him Axe. Why he couldn’t stick to Tidwell aggravated her to no end. The man was persistent. Maybe she should have put in for the department transfer when she got a chance, just to get away from him.
“Tidwell,” she corrected him.
“We on that again? Come on, we’re past that.”
“No, we’re not. Tell me what you want, Axe. It’s late, and I’m ready to go to bed. We have a long enough day tomorrow meeting with Eaglemohr.”
“That’s part of why I am here. We can’t meet with him tomorrow. And the investigation on Mr. Hines.” Monica’s ears perked up on the mention of Zio’s alias but didn’t let it show on her face.
“I hate our office hours,” she said instead as she stepped back to let Axe in.
“Agreed. Smells nice in here. What you cook?” Axe asked, taking off his suit jacket as he walked toward her kitchen. He draped it over the seat she’d vacated earlier.
“Nothing extra. What is going on with Eaglemohr?”
“He’s stated that we won’t have to go through the lawyers. Actually he has pulled the files h
imself for us to have. He told me, when we spoke earlier, that his employee was going by proper protocol, and he apologized for the inconvenience. To make it easier, as we can’t share information with his employees, he’s going to hand over all the files he has on TopSec.”
“That’s good. Wonder why he didn’t do that from the beginning,” Monica commented. Zio had told her about the deal with Eagle, and what he was doing to them all. Monica still couldn’t wrap her head around it all.
“That’s the thing. Before I went to go see him I got called in by the Assistant Director.”
“AD Royce? Why?”
“Apparently, the Inzio Vikhrov is a sensitive file. Much higher than my clearance. I will be up for internal review next week, dealing with this case, and why I looked into that file.”
“Internal review? There was no breach of protocol or immediate danger. Why do they care about you looking into a file?”
“That’s what I said. Royce just smiled and told me it was standard. That I’d need to be cleared from contact with the file. A select few agents have clearance to look into it. He said I should have come to him with my suspicions first.”
Monica didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. Internal review could make or break an agent. If Inzio’s file was flagged like that, it meant one or two things for the FBI: he was an asset to the FBI or partnering agencies, or he was untouchable unless by someone higher up the food chain. The latter coincided with what Zio had told her. She took a deep breath. He had truly been completely railroaded. If he was an asset, and working on Eaglemohr, or on Hawk Global as a mole, she or Axe never would have been assigned to the case. Never. What she did agree with was the advice that he should have gone to someone with his suspicions, namely her so she could have waylaid this entire situation.
“That’s not it though,” Axe added, interrupting her thoughts. “When I saw Eaglemohr, I told him about his employee and he was surprised, and then immediately offered to give the files. Before I said anything about Inzio he was strong-arming toward Hines pulling the files. After I mentioned it, he changed.”
“This doesn't sit right, Axe. A pull from the Assistant Director, and Eaglemohr’s reaction? You’ve been doing too much work on Hines. That’s your problem. You’re going to find yourself in trouble, Axe. You know better than going up against a classified wall. You’ll be crushed under it. And I agree with AD Royce. You should have talked to someone about your suspicions before jumping straight in. You could have come to me.”
“I know there is something there. It’s why I didn’t bring you in on it until now. I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in something if it was nothing. No use in wasting both of our time. It just had a gut instinct on this that I needed to check out. It smells like a mole, and not in a way that’s helping the FBI, CIA, DEA, or anyone else.”
“And you want to bust your career going after it? You know better than that. Look what happened to Mark. If it’s that sensitive then you can’t touch it. Forcing your way in may cause issues, not because there is something there, but because you’re breaking protocol. That comes first, always.”
“I don’t understand how a RICO offender got out scot free. How he has a complete new identity without being in witness protection, and he shows up on the ViCAP system at that. ViCAP is for violent offenders that haven’t been caught. Why would he be listed when he’d gone to prison? And recently added, might I add, but I can’t pursue him?”
“Axe, look at me,” Monica began, hearing her brother all over again. Axe wasn’t a bad man, he never had been. He just wasn’t the man for her. But she saw the same fire in his eyes that she’s seen in Mark’s, the difference was that she wasn’t quite sure if he was doing it for purely personal reasons.
“Why is this so important to you? You’ve been like a dog on the bone ever since you met George Hines,” she asked him.
“I’m a federal agent, it’s my job.”
“But why did you light on him in the first place?”
“I didn’t like how he was looking at you, Monica. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted you,” he answered with a shrug.
“Are you crazy? Who cares what he wanted? We came to do a job, and that’s it. If the only reason you’re looking into this is because some man made eyes at me then you’re doing it for the wrong reason,” she argued.
“Maybe at first, but the whole thing is different now. He’s dirty, Monica, I know he is. He deserves to be in prison, serving out his time.”
“On what evidence? He legally changed his name, has been a model citizen, and employee since becoming George Hines. His sentence was vacated. He didn’t escape prison, and he didn’t go back to some shitty ways when he got out. There is no reason to do this.” Axe looked at her, as his phone rang, stopping him from answering. It was then that she saw it, the need to blame someone. The messed up part of law enforcement that saw only the bad in someone and thought once a criminal, always a criminal.
Zio had gone to prison, got out, and was used by someone who viewed him the same way Axe did. A criminal who was disposable. Useless. Unworthy. That’s how they saw the world. Monica sat down slowly as he answered his phone, ignoring her now. She heard Eaglemohr’s name but then Axe was walking out of the kitchen for privacy. Axe didn’t give a shit about what Zio may have done, or not. All he cared about was getting rid of him, and maybe making a name for himself while he was at it. The Vikhrov case had been a very big deal. If Mark had played ball, he may have very well be on his way for being groomed for Director status sometime in his career. There was still politicking when it came to the higher ups of law enforcement. If nothing else, Monica couldn’t let Zio get caught up in this. She waited patiently until Axe came back into the room before make the decision to call Zio and tell him what was up.
“That was Eaglemohr. He’s got the files for me. He also wants to talk more about what I found out on Hines. I’m going to go brief him and then I’m going to bring the files back so we can look over them.”
“Don’t do this, Axe. This doesn’t feel right. He could give them to you tomorrow.”
“He’s flying out for some meeting in China. I told you earlier that we wouldn't be meeting with him tomorrow. He can give them to me now before he heads to his flight. I’ll be back in about an hour at the latest. Order some pizza for us. We’re going to be going over these files, and then making a case to stick on Vikhrov. We’re going to be famous, Monica.”
Monica waited. There wasn’t anyone that she could trust, and she couldn’t risk reaching out to anyone, anyway. For now, she was staring at the clock, a sinking feeling that something wasn’t right. When an hour passed by, she started calling Axe’s cell. When two went by, she called every two minutes to tell him she’d be calling in the team if he didn’t fucking answer. By the time four hours had rolled by, she was pacing a rut in her rug, and knew, that Axe wasn’t coming back. That Eagle was as dangerous as Zio said. She operated on the understanding that her partner was gone, and she was going to be next.
Chapter 20
Scratch stalked through the crowded airport terminal, with his reflective shades on, and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He watched as business travelers walked briskly to their destinations, as families made their way to and from vacations, and he’d never felt so alone in his life. Not even when the bars to his prison cell closed on him for the first time. Not even when he realized that his mother was never coming to visit him.
Excitement should have been racing through his veins. He should be floating, not walking, to the terminal where a private jet waited to whisk him away to the next leg of his labyrinth of a trip. Ireland was the first stop. He’d stay there for a few days before he hopped on another flight to take him to the South Pacific Island that would be his new home for the foreseeable future. He should have been rubbing his hands together in anticipation of maybe hooking up with a pretty red head with freckles while they sipped away on ice-cold Irish ale. Instead, he was brooding, borderline in despair ov
er the fact that Monica was not with him.
Araceli had told him to be patient. That maybe Monica would come around or that she would meet him at a later date, once she handled her issues at work. Jack told him to forget about her, and focus on being as incognito as he could during his travels. Glitch just looked at him with pity. Having just reconnected with Araceli, he understood more than Jack how Scratch was feeling. Too bad nothing his friends said or did would help him to feel any better.
With time to kill, he stopped at a coffee shop in the terminal, and sat in the corner pretending to read the daily paper. A frothy vanilla flavored cappuccino sat cooling on the table. He wouldn’t drink it as it was just for show. He’d dressed down in jeans and a casual button down shirt. Dressing in a suit while carrying the type of bag that he had would have been noticeable, for sure. The shades were to keep people from getting a look at his icy blue eyes. He had been told they were pretty unforgettable.
Nothing in the paper held his interest. Besides, his mind was so hung up on thoughts of Monica that he couldn’t even remember what any of the articles that he tried to read where about. The sting of rejection nearly crippled him, and more than once he had to keep himself from rushing out of the airport and going to find her. To try and reason with her, but he’d told her everything. All but begged her to come with him. The memory of the day he discussed her profile with Jack came into view. She was the type to put work before a man or a relationship. That’s what they had deduced from the personal information that Jack gleaned on her. So why was he fool enough to think that she would change for him?
SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2) Page 13
