by C. A. Harms
Lies
Phoenix Undercover #1
By C.A. Harms
Lies
Copyright © 2015 by C.A. Harms.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: November 2015
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-372-4
ISBN-10: 1-68058-372-7
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To my Fred…
Or how most of you know her, Lydia.
I know I have already said this once, but I owe you more gratitude than I could ever say in any dedication. So let me just offer yet another reason why I adore you so very much. You have given me so much encouragement when at times I second-guessed myself. We make one pretty badass team, and I will never be able to repay you for all you do for me.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Prologue
Josh
I was fading in and out as my body was dragged along the pavement. Warm liquid covered the side of my head and dripped down over my ear. Muffled voices continued to filter in, but everything was hazy. If only I could find my gun.
“Put that sorry-ass pig in the trunk. I don’t want him messing up my interior.”
My body tensed at the man’s words. I knew at that moment the chances of me getting out of this alive were slim to none.
Leo Markovich. I would know the Russian accent anywhere. I had spent the last six months learning his every move. I’d lived in his world, pretending to be one of his people, working with them to supply the streets with drugs and easy women. Now that was all about to end.
“We taking him to Roman?” The name made me tense even more. Roman would not hesitate to put a bullet between my eyes.
“No.” Leo chuckled. “I want to play first. I have some things I need to learn. Some questions I need answered.”
I knew the beatings had just begun.
My body was hoisted up and then tossed into the trunk. I let out a loud groan as I landed on something hard and the pain shot through me like a hot stake.
“You brought this on yourself.” Leo leaned over me, looking down with a smirk on his lips. “Now you must pay the price for your mistakes. No one gets away with deceiving me.”
My right eye was completely swollen shut, but I could still open my left. I watched as the two men chuckled, looking down at me. I knew I would only be digging my own grave if I spoke, but I refused to let them think they had already defeated me.
“Fuck you,” I snarled. “When Roman finds out you twats didn’t know you had a cop living inside the center of your operation, he’ll end you both. Whether I’m dead or not, you two are fucked.”
I refused to look away even when Leo raised his gun and cracked it across my cheek.
The trunk slammed shut and the blackness set in. My stomach rolled as bile filled my mouth, and I coughed and sputtered as bitter, coppery blood drained from the gash on my cheek and ran toward my lips. Turning my head to the side, I heaved as I faded in and out of consciousness from the pain.
Gabby’s face was the last thing I saw before the darkness took over, and I prayed I would get to kiss her beautiful lips again.
Chapter 1
Josh
Six months earlier
“You gonna act like a pussy, or are you just gonna go talk to her?” Greyson teased. “Because if you aren’t at least going to give it a shot, I will.”
“Kami would kick your ass,” I said, not taking my eyes off the brunette in line at the counter, or rather off her tight, black pants that perfectly showed off her fine ass.
“Fuck, she doesn’t own me. Besides, she’s getting too clingy. I’ve been avoiding her crazy shit lately.”
It didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was that their relationship had lasted this long.
Greyson had been my partner for six years and my best friend longer than that. He and I first joined the police force together with the same goal in mind—clean up the streets of New York and make the sick bastards of the world pay for their crimes. Ten years of training and long, treacherous hours later, we were finally both agents for the FBI, working on the narcotics task force. In that time, I had been solely focused on the job, leaving little time for dating, but my partner dated enough for the both of us. In fact, most people would refer to him as a manwhore.
A chair screeched against the tile floor, and I looked in Greyson’s direction. “What the hell are you doing?”
He smirked, holding up his empty Starbucks cup. “Looks like I need a refill.” He winked and strutted off toward the counter, where he stood just behind the woman. The knowledge he was openly checking out her ass pissed me off. Asshole was trying to get under my skin, and that shit was working. As the woman passed her money to the barista, Greyson held out a twenty, offering to pay for her drink. I was too far away to hear his exact words, but his game was always the same—play nice guy and charm the girl. The moment the brunette smiled at him, I instantly wanted to beat his ass.
I turned my back to the counter, because I honestly didn’t want to witness the douche getting her number. I sat, scolding myself because I let him have her. There was nothing wrong with having a little fun outside of work, but I had a hard time doing that because the job always got in the way.
A few minutes passed before I felt the table shift. I looked up to find Greyson smirking at me. “I got a date.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you seriously gonna rub that shit in?” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking all smug. “If we weren’t sitting in the middle of Starbucks with witnesses, I would beat your fucking face right now.”
“What crawled up your ass and died? I got your cranky butt a date too.” When I just stared back at him in disbelief, he chuckled.
“What the hell? You think I want to tag along while you taunt me with the brunette?”
“Hell no, I got the brunette for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “She’s bringing her roommate for me. She’s a blonde, and you know how I love blondes.” Leaning back in his seat, he folded his arms over his chest, puffing up and trying to appear as if he was some badass. All I could offer was a shake of my head. He really was a cocky s
on of a bitch.
***
When we entered the club, the flashing lights and loud music instantly made me feel old and out of place. Maybe five years ago I’d have liked this, but now that I was in my late twenties, I had outgrown this shit and preferred a more quiet setting. One where I could actually hear what my date was saying instead of having to scream to carry on any type of conversation.
Greyson nudged me with his elbow to catch my attention, and I looked where he was pointing. My stomach twisted as my gaze landed on the brunette from Starbucks, who was standing next to another woman. The girl was shorter, with bleach-blonde hair. But she was hard to notice because my eyes were still trying to focus on the brunette. She no longer looked like the classy woman who had caught my attention. Her shorts looked more like a pair of underwear, her top was more see-through than not, and she had on enough makeup for ten women.
I looked back at Greyson in confusion. “What the hell?” It was all I could muster up.
“I know, right?” He grinned. “Fucking hot.”
I blinked a few times and looked back toward the two women eyeing us from across the room. Was he blind? Nothing about what I was seeing was appealing.
I was convinced I had dreamed up this morning in the coffee shop, because there was no way this was the same woman. I fought the urge to run away. “This is a joke, right? I changed my mind. You can have the brunette,” I said as I stepped around him, turning my back to the girls. “In fact, you can have ’em both.”
His face lit up like a toddler on Christmas morning as he looked at me, and I chuckled. Dumb walking cock thought he’d won the lottery. I was sure he was already imagining all sorts of kinky shit that involved him and both the girls.
Before either of us could say more, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.
I closed my eyes tightly and prayed it wasn’t the fake brunette who had pulled a complete one-eighty from earlier today. When I opened them and saw Greyson’s gleaming grin, I knew my fears had come true. I didn’t want to come off as some arrogant ass, so I turned around and tried like hell not to show the distaste boiling in my stomach.
“Hey, boys, were you planning on joining us?” When she smiled, she had a smudge of bright red lipstick on her front tooth.
I looked back over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at Greyson, only to find him already eye-fucking the blonde. He wasn’t going to be any help. He brushed past me, hooked a girl on each arm, and led them back to their table. I took in a deep breath and followed, telling myself I would be out of here in an hour. Alone.
Chapter 2
Gabriella
Being forced to hang out with my sister on her twenty-first birthday was the last thing I wanted to do tonight. Okay, so I wasn’t being forced, but I would have rather gone to a quieter club.
Brooklyn insisted we come to Riot only so she could flirt with the owner’s son, who also happened to be the bartender. I tagged along to keep her out of trouble, and she’d left me sitting at the end of the bar to fight off drunk-ass men who thought I was there for a hookup. The spot I held gave me the perfect view of the entire bar, however. It was fun to sit back and silently make fun of the women that seriously thought acting like a whore would land them the perfect man. Speaking of which, I had been watching the same two women for the last hour as they scanned the room for their next victims.
The blonde’s roots were in serious need of a touch-up, and the brunette was the poster child for cake face. Someone needed to give that girl a gift card for a facial, because I could hear her pores screaming in agony.
When they both stopped their hideous excuse for dancing and stared off into the distance, I couldn’t help but follow their line of vision. I was expecting a couple of douchebags who would surely find their ensembles attractive. Instead, I was shocked to see the men they had their sights set on. Both were gorgeous, clean-cut, and nothing like what I was expecting. The shorter of the two was staring back at the girls with lust in his eyes. But the man with the darker hair looked a bit taken aback, even a little frightened, and I couldn’t helped the giggle that escaped my lips when he turned to his friend and argued with him. I leaned against the bar to watch. I had a feeling he was trying to get out of whatever it was his friend was forcing him into.
I turned to the bartender, Jimmy, and held my hand up to signal for another beer. When I looked back toward the men, I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my laughter. The two women had wandered over to them, and the look on the taller guy’s face was comical. His nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were wrinkled up. It was that look people get when they’re trying to make sense of something that just didn’t seem right. I imagined him thinking the same thing that was running through my own mind—there has to be a person in there somewhere, behind all that clown makeup.
The shorter man rushed past him, linked arms with both women, and led them off to the other side of the dance floor. He was obviously the one who had lower standards. I sort of felt sorry for the other guy. You could see how reluctant he was to join them.
Jimmy set down my beer, and I tossed a ten onto the counter in front of him. He winked before walking off toward the other end to serve the next drink.
I spun on my stool just enough to watch the man that looked like he was having as much fun as I did on my last trip to the ob-gyn. He was now glaring at his friend, grinding his teeth.
“What are you looking at?” Brooklyn said as she stumbled up to my side. “Don’t tell me my sister the prude has finally found someone she’s interested in?”
“Funny, smartass.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Just because I actually enjoy the company of a man that can count higher than fifty doesn’t mean I’m a prude.”
She rolled her eyes before leaning over the bar, and her tits looked like they were about to fall out of her shirt. I watched as Jimmy’s eyes narrowed in on her cleavage, and all I could do was shake my head.
“Oh, Gabby, Jimmy is a very intelligent man. He knows his way around a woman’s body, and let me tell you, he has one magical mouth.” She bit her lower lip as she stared ahead at Jimmy. He was too far away to hear her words, but the two of them were having some sort of silent conversation using only their eyes.
“Just because he’s good in bed, doesn’t make him intelligent,” I insisted. But I knew there was no hope in arguing. She was in lust with Jimmy, and he in turn was loving the attention, just like he loved all the attention he got from women in the bar scene. I also knew he was not a lifer, at least not now, but my youngest sister was wearing her blinders. She would have to learn the hard way about men like him. Just like I did.
Chapter 3
Josh
I would rather be on a stakeout with George. And no one liked stakeouts with George. He was the oldest agent in the narcotics unit, and let me just say the man had no control. He loved his rice and beans, and being trapped in close quarters with him for long periods of time was like a slow form of death.
But right now, I would choose George and his torture over my current company.
“So Grey tells me you’re both with the FBI.”
I stared back at the brunette I now knew as Marissa and tried not to focus on the red blotch of lipstick still smeared on her tooth. What kind of friend was the blonde? I mean, don’t chicks usually inform one another of that kind of embarrassing crap? The crazy thing was, she kept running her tongue over her lip and lightly grazing her teeth. The shit had to come off eventually, right?
“That’s really impressive. I work in retail.” She slid a little closer, and I bit my cheek to keep myself from saying something I wouldn’t be able to take back.
I tried to signal Greyson for help, but the asshole had his tongue shoved down the blonde’s throat, and I knew he would be no use to me.
The moment Marissa lifted her hand to the waistband of my jeans, I’d had enough.
I placed my hand over hers, removed it from my pants, and stepped back. “I could use a refill. You?” I had to put some much-n
eeded distance between her and me. I was hanging on the edge, and I wasn’t sure just how long I could hold back from telling her she was acting like a bimbo and needed to scrape the hooker mask off her face. I didn’t wait for her to answer before I spun around on the heel of my boot and walked toward the bar.
Placing my elbows at the edge of the countertop, I collapsed on the barstool, feeling exhausted. I had never been on a date where I felt like I needed a vacation only two hours in.
“What can I get ya?” the young guy behind the bar asked.
“A decoy, maybe a smoke bomb.” He looked at me in confusion. “Date from hell, dude. Ever had one of those moments where you’re wondering how the fuck you got yourself in such a mess?”
He chuckled and looked up over my shoulder. “Oh.” He smirked and nodded. “Marissa.”
The fact he knew her name made me cringe. I had a feeling this was worse than I had initially thought. “Oh fuck, what? She’s a stalker or some freaky chick that’s gonna claim we’re engaged? I’ll spend months getting her to leave me the fuck alone, won’t I?”
He handed me a beer and shook his head, chuckling to himself, then poured a shot of tequila and set it on the bar next to my beer. “You’re gonna need that.”
I let my head fall to my hands and grumbled as I mentally cussed out Greyson and myself for even showing up.
“Good luck, man.”
I didn’t even lift my head. It was pointless; I knew he was eating this up. His laughter faded as he worked his way down the bar, serving others.
“I see you don’t suffer from coulrophobia,” came a soft whisper from my right.
I immediately lifted my head and was taken aback by the girl sitting at my side. How had I missed her? Oh, I know, I’d had tunnel vision as I ran from Cruella toward my next drink.
