by Bella Jewel
“Because he’s a smart man, and I may or may not have told him girls like me don’t go for men like him.”
Vance chuckles. “That makes your game a whole lot harder.”
I huff, still keeping my eye on Raide, who is still waving his hands around in the air, yelling at someone on the phone. “I’d use my legs, but it appears Raide isn’t interested. I’m going to have to up my game.”
Vance is silent. Then he warns, “Be careful with this, Grace.” Grace. Someone is getting serious.
“I can do this, Vance.”
He sighs, long and deep. “All right, well, I was just calling to check how you are. You coming into work tomorrow?”
“Yep, see you then.”
“Later.”
He hangs up and I continue to watch Raide for a while. He finally disappears inside but I’m still guessing the apartment isn’t his. He wouldn’t be renting, because that would make it too easy to track him down. I wonder who lives there. I write down the address and then decide to wait a little longer. If I can catch him going to a bar or somewhere more public, this will be far easier.
I can hardly go and knock on the front door.
I wait for three hours. Jesus. How do cops do this? It is boring as all hell. I decide I’ll give it another hour, but I’m desperate for a coffee. I glance with longing at the coffee shop on the corner. I could run over and get one, right? He wouldn’t notice me, he’s inside the apartment complex. Deciding that’s exactly what I’m going to do, I get out of the car and run across the road, toward the coffee shop.
I quickly order a latte and grab a big chocolate cupcake, then I head back out toward my car. I’ve just stepped outside when I see Raide coming out of the apartment. Holy Mother. He’s turning my way. Without thinking, I launch myself into the bushes beside the coffee shop. I land with a thump, and my coffee explodes everywhere. “Motherfucker,” I hiss, desperately patting at my skirt as the hot liquid sinks in and burns my legs.
I shuffle backwards when footsteps near. I hear Raide’s voice; he’s on the phone again. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I’m hearing you, but he wasn’t there. I waited. Nothing. You gave me false information. I thought you were supposed to be good at this?”
Silence now, and Raide stops right beside the bush I’m hiding pathetically behind. I hold my breath and try not to move. It really wouldn’t look good if he found me like this. I close my eyes. I hope my cupcake is okay. Dammit, I really wanted it.
“Yeah, well, you got twenty-four hours to get me a new location.”
Then he obviously hangs up, because his footsteps pick up and he disappears. An interesting conversation indeed. I wait a few moments and then stand, shuffling out of the bushes.
“Are you okay?”
I squeal and spin around to see an elderly man staring at me.
“What are you doing in the bushes?”
“Ah, I had an emergency … of a personal nature.”
He narrows his eyes.
“Bladder problems—they happen to the best of us!”
Then I give him a lame wave and run across the road to my car. When I get back into my car, I drop my head onto the wheel and exhale loudly.
This isn’t going well.
* * *
“How’s the case going, Grace?” Don asks when I arrive at the office the next morning.
I yawn and wave my hand. “Fine.”
“Fine? Have you gotten any leads? Any sightings?” he questions.
“Yes.” I smile. “I have quite a few.” Liar.
He nods, pleased. “Then I’ll expect to see him brought in soon.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Good. Got a small job for you. Any time free today?”
I nod. “Sure, bring me the file.”
He removes a file I didn’t even notice was tucked under his arm and hands it to me. “Five grand. Easy.”
“Thanks, Don.”
I turn and head into my office, passing Julio on the way. He scowls at me, running his hand over his shiny, slicked-back hair. Such a jerk.
“Morning, Julio,” I chirp happily.
“Don’t rub it in, Grace. You’ll fail—and when you do, it’ll be me with the smirk.”
I laugh softly. “Okay, buddy, nice chatting.”
I lock myself in my office and flop down into my chair, flicking on my computer. I have this bounty to bring in, but I’ll do it this afternoon. First I have paperwork to do from other cases, as well as research to do on Raide’s case. I want to find out more about him. I want to know exactly what he did. I’ve studied his file, but there has to be more. I run his name through the database we can access while I filter through e-mails.
When my computer dings, I click on the links provided. It gives me more detail about Raide’s case. Assault leading to severe bodily harm of a man aged twenty-four years old. Suspected of murdering his—I gasp—his sister. His own sister. My face scrunches up as I read the articles provided. There is great detail about his sister and how she was found with multiple stab wounds to her chest and stomach. She was dead. Raide was found at the scene, knife in hand, towering over her boyfriend’s body, which was badly beaten. The boyfriend pressed charges, saying Raide killed his sister out of pure rage and came after him when he tried to defend her.
Why? It makes no sense. It says Raide had somewhat of a difficult upbringing; his father was a junkie, jailed when Raide was twelve. His mother left Raide and his sister when he was fourteen and she was only eleven. They were put into foster care together. Did something happen there? Why would he want to murder his own sister? It just doesn’t add up.
My chest clenches with an unfamiliar emotion. I can’t pretend I know Raide well enough to know if he’d do something like that, but he just doesn’t seem like the type. He’s got an arrogant side, sure, but there’s something else in his eyes, too. Something that expresses a hurt he’s lived with in the past. Could that hurt be because he actually did kill his sister? Or is he living with the fact that someone else murdered her and he couldn’t save her? That makes so much more sense.
Part of me doesn’t want to believe Raide did it, because that means the man I’ve been playing with is genuinely dangerous. The very thought has my heart constricting. Why should it matter, anyway? If he did it or he didn’t, my job is to bring him in regardless. I shouldn’t care if he’s being wronged, or attempt to decipher my feelings toward the whole thing. I force myself back to the here and now, pushing my emotions about it aside.
Raide could only be charged with assault due to the fact that right now he’s only a suspect for the murder. A good friend of his paid the bail money and Raide was let out to await trial. He was meant to show up for his trial, but he didn’t. So that’s when we were called in. It’s our job to hunt him down and bring him in so he can stand trial. We get paid, they get their trial. It also means Raide will face more time behind bars, because he chose to do a runner.
Tap tap.
I lift my head to see Vance at my window. I stand up with a smile and unlock my door, letting him in. He’s got a bag of Chinese food in one hand and soda in the other. Lifesaver.
“How’s it going, Gracie?” he asks, flopping down in the chair across from me.
“Good. Only you know to bring me Chinese food for breakfast.”
He grins. “Only you can eat Chinese food for breakfast.”
That’s true. Most people are grossed out by it, but whatever. It’s my thing.
“I’m just looking over Raide’s case,” I say, reaching for the soda. “It doesn’t quite add up.”
“How do you mean?” he asks, unwrapping the Chinese and sliding a box toward me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it. “Well, it says he was found with a knife in his hand, his sister dead, her boyfriend badly beaten…”
“And?”
“And that he killed her and was going to kill him.”
Vance shrugs. “So what doesn’t make any sense?”
I narrow my eyes and
purse my lips. “Firstly, why would he beat him so badly before attempting to kill him?”
Vance frowns. “Rage?”
“But why?” I rub my jaw. “Why would he have so much rage? There’s nothing about previous issues with the sister and her boyfriend. It doesn’t make sense. And if he just wanted to kill them, why beat him but not her? Why not stab him too and leave?”
“Maybe the boyfriend did something to him, or the boyfriend and the sister. Maybe something bad happened and he wanted revenge on both of them.”
“So why stab her but beat him first?”
Vance narrows his eyes. “Maybe the boyfriend was the one who instigated it … maybe he was trying to defend his sister … there are plenty of reasons.”
“It just doesn’t seem right.”
“Grace,” Vance warns, “don’t get caught up in this. You have a job to do, and that job is to bring Raide in. It’s not your job to be a pretend cop and try to figure out what went down. He was arrested, and there was obviously good reason.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s right, Vance.”
He reaches across the desk, taking my hands and pulling me close. “Don’t get caught up in this,” he repeats. “Not only could you lose your job but you could end up in danger, too. Just bring him in, Grace.”
I nod, knowing he’s not going to understand or even try to. I force a smile and unwrap the Chinese food. As I eat, I try to push thoughts of Raide out of my mind. He didn’t seem like a bad person. Arrogant, sure—but a murderer? That just doesn’t fit. But then, who am I to try to analyze? Some of the best killers are the ones you least suspect.
I just have a feeling there’s more to Raide’s story than meets the eye.
And I’m determined to find out.
Chapter Seven
Here I am again. Trying to get Raide’s attention.
It’s week two of our little dance and I’m supposed to give Don a report. I need something to report back, but at the moment, Raide is giving me nothing. I followed him to yet another club, and I have to wonder why he’s spending his time going from club to club. He’s obviously looking for something, because I always see him having intense conversations with people who look more than a little suspicious.
Tonight we’ve ended up at a club that’s somewhat deserted. It’s a quiet nightspot on the outskirts of town, and there are only fifty or so people here. Most are playing pool or sitting at the bar, a few are dancing. Raide is in the back corner with a woman and two men. They’re discussing something in depth. They’re all huddled together, drinks tucked close to their bodies. I get myself a drink and watch him out of the corner of my eye. I see the exact moment he notices me, because his eyes narrow.
I turn back to my drink, pretending I haven’t seen him.
Five minutes later, he’s by my side, leaning into my ear. “You following me?”
I turn and stare at him. I’ve played the drunken tart, and it didn’t work. So now I’m shrugging him off. “Sorry, do I know you?”
Again, he narrows his eyes. “Playin’ games, lady?”
“I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.” Of course, I don’t expect him to believe this, but I do hope to make him intrigued.
He grins. Mission accomplished.
“I can play it like that.”
I shoot back a tequila and stand. “Not sure what we’re playing—but, honey, I’m up for anything.”
With that, I walk out onto the dance floor and start dancing. Damned proud of myself. I sway my hips, knowing that I’ve gotten half the club's attention. I’m into the song, eyes closed, hips swaying, when a warm, hard body presses against mine. I inwardly grin as I open my eyes and look down at the hands on my hips. Yep, Raide’s. How do I know? He wears a ring, a dark gray band that wraps around one of his perfect fingers.
He doesn’t say a word, he just starts swaying with me, hands still on my hips, body plastered against mine. I close my eyes, enjoying the moment. His hands slide up my belly and stop just under my breasts as he pulls me back into him, grinding my body against his. Oh boy. Things just got hot in here. I can feel his erection against my ass, and I won’t deny that it’s impressive.
“I like games,” he murmurs into my ear. “But there’s only so long I play them before I take what I need.”
“And what is it you need?” I ask, turning my face so our lips are millimeters apart.
“Lady,” he growls low. “Not even you’re that stupid.”
I grin and stare down at his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t even know you.”
He grins, presenting two perfect dimples that I want, really badly, to lick.
“Same place at the same time over and over,” he murmurs, lifting his hand and gripping my jaw. He turns my face back toward the crowd, and his lips find my neck. I shudder. “That’s no coincidence. You wanted me from the first time I put you against that wall, Gracie.”
I shiver.
“You’ve been going out of your way since then to show up wherever I am. Now, are you going to admit it—or do we need to play a little longer?”
I pull his hands from my body and spin. I lean in really close, my breath puffing out against his lips. “A little longer.”
I go to spin away, but his hand lashes out and curls around mine. He spins me back toward him, pressing my body against his. I gasp and let myself enjoy the feeling of being in his arms for just a moment.
“You owe me a drink. I’m done with this game. You’re goin’ to give me what I want.” With that, he turns us and pulls me through the crowd. When he reaches the bar, he waves a hand and orders two beers. When they’re served, he scoops them up and leads me outside into a small gardenlike area.
We sit down, and I can’t help but smile as he hands me a beer. I want to cheer with joy, but I keep it under wraps. “Are you pleased with yourself?” I’m grinning again.
He smirks at me. “Absolutely. I’m not the kind of man to dance around what I want. You’ve intrigued me—now I want to know more.”
I lean back, taking a sip of my beer. “And what exactly do you want to know?”
He stares at me, his expression unreadable. “What are you going to tell me?”
“Well, that all depends.”
His eyes drop to my lips, and I have to swallow to keep myself from launching forward to taste him. I really want to taste him.
“I have an idea,” I say in a tight voice, making his eyes move back up to mine.
“What’s that?”
“Let’s play Twenty Questions.”
He curls his face in disgust. “No.”
“Aw, come on, it’ll be fun. You say you’re over the games—well, so am I,” I breathe. “I want to know more, too.”
He frowns. “Lady, it won’t be fun.”
“Will, too.”
“I have a better idea,” he says, putting down his beer and reaching for me. His fingers curl around the back of my neck and he pulls me close.
I suck in a breath and hold it as he brings himself in so close, our lips are only millimeters apart. “Kissing is out of bounds,” I breathe.
His lip quirks. “Any reason for that?”
“Yes,” I whisper, staring at his lips. “You haven’t answered my questions.”
He leans back a little so his eyes can search my face. “Let’s make this interesting, then. You ask a question and I answer it, I get a kiss.”
I gape.
“But if I don’t answer it, then I don’t get a kiss.”
I’m the one smirking now. “That doesn’t seem like a fair game.”
He leans back in. “Take it or leave it, lady.”
“Fine, I’m up for the challenge. Question one—” I bite my bottom lip, thinking about what I want to ask him. Could I slip in some investigative questions that might just help me? Maybe. But I won’t make it too suspicious from the start. “—how many women have fallen for your charms in the past?”
He grins. “Twelve.”
/>
My brows shoot up. “Only twelve?”
He puts a hand over his heart. “It hurts me that you think I’m easy, Gracie.”
I snort. “You’re a womanizer—it’s written all over you.”
He winks at me. “I answered, so it’s a kiss for me.”
I brace myself, holding my breath as he leans forward. My heart rate picks up and my skin prickles. God, his lips …
He tilts his head and presses a kiss to my neck. I shudder and my jaw clenches in disappointment when he pulls back, grinning still. “I never said I was goin’ to kiss your lips, lady.”
“You’re horrible.”
His eyes twinkle with amusement.
I like this side of him. “Okay, next question,” I breathe.
He nods.
“Tell me about yourself as a boy.”
He flinches. “That’s not a question.”
He’s right, dammit. “Okay, what was your favorite memory as a boy?”
His eyes search mine, then he answers, “When I got my first puppy.”
I smile. “You had a puppy.”
He nods.
“What was his name?”
“That’s two questions, and I haven’t got my kiss yet.”
Right.
He leans in again, running his fingers up my arms. My entire body is aware of him, and I’m getting more and more desperate for this kiss. He’s teasing me, and while I like it, I just want to taste him. He leans in and his lips capture my earlobe. I whimper as he moves his mouth from my earlobe over to my jaw. Then he pulls back.
“That was two,” I whisper.
“His name was Tiger.”
I smile coyly at him. “You’re sneaky.”
His eyes are lusty now—and God, do I like it. “Next one, lady.”
“Okay, what’s your favorite food?”
He frowns. “Now you’re just trying to get a free kiss.”
I laugh softly. “Answer it or miss out.”
“Steak.”
I can’t help another grin. He leans forward and kisses my nose. Damn him, he’s being charming.
“Goin’ to have to do better than that.”
We continue this game, and I find out his favorite car, color, and state. By the end, there’s nowhere left to kiss me but my lips. Desperation has gripped us both, and he’s leaning in close—so close, I can feel his hot breath against my lips.
