Call it homage to his last career.
“Dimitri, am I going to freak out the second you tell me what it is a cover for?” he asked.
“Yeah. I think you are.”
Oh boy.
Well, here went nothing.
“What is it a cover for?” he asked, making a mental note to pick out something really sparkly for his wife. First, the half-naked woman at Tony Mays’s home, and now, his partner in arms was hiding something so huge that he was stressed over it.
He’d killed a fucking cop and didn’t care.
This was going to be epic—and not in a good way either.
“Trafficking.”
He pulled off the road to have this discussion. It wasn’t going to be one they could have while he was driving.
Croft felt sick at the mention of that word.
“Trafficking of what, exactly, Dimitri?” He prayed he’d be gentle. A million things had come to his mind, and none of them were good.
In fact…
“People.”
Well, holy hell.
That was pretty much exactly where his mind went, and that wasn’t a good thing.
At all.
“You want to kill me, don’t you?” Greyson asked.
“Let me explain,” he offered.
Greyson Croft stared at his friend, and for the first time ever, he had one regret.
What the hell had he done?
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Sky Villa
Twelfth Floor
When he got there, he was automatically cleared. Since Emma and Greyson had once owned a condominium there, he’d always been welcomed by security.
They knew his face, and he was on the list to visit Paris and Tessa whenever he wanted.
That was going to work in his favor.
It was apparent that Natasha didn’t think he’d come looking for her there. She must not have known her brother would rat her out on her hidey-hole.
Well, in that case, he was going to thank the man.
He had to fix this.
Chris didn’t like the way he felt inside now that he knew Natasha was seriously hurting over last night. He wasn’t good with women, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to watch her suffer.
He cared about her.
Maybe way too much.
All the way up in the elevator, he nervously played with the bag of food he’d grabbed on his way there. He couldn’t just stroll into her place empty-handed.
It felt wrong.
His mother always taught him when you were courting a lady, you brought a token of your affection.
Food seemed right.
Chris felt the need to take care of her.
Besides, stopping for something to eat was a way to keep his hands and mind busy.
Breakfast seemed like a good icebreaker.
He hoped.
The last thing he wanted was to hurt Natasha. He knew when dealing with her, he was going to have to be extra gentle. She had a past of pain, and he got that.
So did he.
Honestly, he was pretty sure Emma did the same for him. He didn’t want Natasha to think he didn’t like her.
Hell!
He wanted her in the worst way, but first, they had to be honest with each other. Chris couldn’t do this if there wasn’t an open line of communication.
She had a past, and so did he.
Denise was her name, and being shitty was her game. If he could get Natasha to see why he was gun-shy, maybe they’d make it through this unscathed.
At her door, he thought about knocking.
Then again, what would keep her from jumping? Granted they were higher up, but he didn’t doubt she’d do it. The Gideons were bat shit insane and seemed to live on the adrenaline of a crazy person.
Yeah, no.
He was going to sneak in.
Chris liked safe.
So, he pulled out the key and quietly unlocked the door. Inside, the place looked like Natasha. It was prettily decorated in soft hues of lavender and white. The scent alone was that of the woman.
It smelled like lilacs on a spring morning.
Yeah, she was definitely there.
Immediately, he wished he could take his time to explore, learning more about her. Instead, he sought her out. He needed to get this over with, and fast.
He was a nervous wreck.
The layout was the same as the Croft’s old condominium, except the entryway was flipped. From it, he couldn’t see the living room.
Peeking his head around the corner, it didn’t take Chris long to find her.
She was on her couch, curled up, and staring at the wall. His heart broke.
“Natasha.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, sliding as far from him as possible.
He couldn’t help but think she looked like a wounded animal, putting it’s back to the wall as it prepared for a fight. This was something he’d never seen her do.
She always seemed…so self-assured. Apparently, he’d been very wrong.
Yeah, he had a lot of ground to cover. Hopefully, Natasha would let him. It wasn’t looking good so far.
“I brought you breakfast.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“I was hungry, and I thought we could have something to eat together.”
Chris put the bag down and took a seat.
“Why are you really here? How did you get the key to my home?” she asked. “No one knows where I hide out.”
“Dimitri gave it to me. He got your note, and we were concerned about you. I knew I had to come.”
Her face stayed neutral. “You really didn’t. I’m good. You can leave.”
Chris was accustomed to dealing with tough women. He worked with detectives.
Hell!
He worked with Emma.
Instead of leaving, he started pulling out the take-out containers. “Do you like eggs? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you eat them, but I also got pancakes. There’s this great little diner not far from here. I used to stop all the time when I would come and visit Emma.”
She watched him.
“You should go. I’m going to sleep.”
Yeah, that line sucked last night when he handed it to her, and it certainly sucked this morning when she reciprocated with it. He made a mental note.
NEVER tell a woman that.
Ever.
“I’m not leaving until we talk. We can do it over breakfast, or we can do it screaming. I don’t care. It has to be done.”
He was braced for the worst. Chris had been down this road before. Whenever he’d piss Denise off, there would be an epic fight. Toward the end of their marriage, it was pretty much daily.
He still had the battle scars on his heart.
Words left wounds. That was why he was going to try and be kind. No matter what, he wanted to keep Natasha from hurting more.
“I don’t scream,” she stated.
“Ever?”
She shook her head.
Well, that was nice to know.
Chris hated when a woman got all hysterical. He didn’t know how to cope with it. His ex was the queen of mean, and he’d swallowed it. Detectives knew better, and for that, he’d been grateful.
Chris opened the containers and split the food so they could share. He dumped syrup on his, and waited for her to say something as he held it up. “Syrup, Natasha?”
“Yes, please.”
Well, it was a start.
Chris handed her the container and she took a seat not far from him. When she accepted the plastic fork and knife, he knew she was watching him.
Almost studying him.
It was time.
“About last night.”
“You wanted to be alone. I get it. I want to be alone now…”
He wasn’t leaving.
It wasn’t that easy. Chris knew if he abandoned ship, like he really wanted to
do to avoid this uncomfortable feeling, he’d never have the nerve to go back.
He was a chicken at heart.
“I was married before.”
She listened as they ate. Natasha didn’t know where this was going, but she figured he had the floor. She wasn’t leaving.
This was her sanctuary.
When he was done, he would go. Then she could be alone again.
It was for the best.
“Denise was this rich bitch who rode roughshod over me. I married young and stupid, and I really thought she loved me for me. Instead, she didn’t. I wasn’t enough for her, and she made sure to tell me every single day.”
Natasha ate some of her breakfast.
“I used to be different. I was impetuous, I wouldn’t plan shit to death, and I actually had more fun than not. Maybe I was young and crazy, but I loved living my life.”
“Until?”
“She cheated on me. I didn’t even see it coming. I never realized it was going on for a long time. Then one day, she used it to break me. She actually flaunted her infidelity in my face and told me if I had a clue, I would have known. I was her arm candy of sorts. She bought me shit, we took trips, and I fell for it all.”
Okay, she understood better.
That she could work with over not knowing at all.
“I hated that I was duped. I became cynical. I became the suspicious, hesitant man I am today. I have to plan everything in order to weigh all the options. I don’t want to hurt again like that.”
“Because you were afraid you’d miss the signs again?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t lie to people I hate, and I certainly don’t lie to people I like.”
She continued eating.
This wasn’t what she expected.
He was opening up.
“I want to take you out on a date, but something is tripping me up. I can’t get past it. Last night, when you showed up in my room, rational Chris wanted you to leave because he doesn’t want to get hurt, but the part of me that genuinely likes you wanted you to stay.”
“Rational Chris won?”
“He always does, Natasha. I don’t know how to let that guard down anymore. I’m afraid to do it. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m terrified. I know how silly that sounds, since I was a cop. Emma and I faced some scary shit that day I was shot, and I’m less frightened by that than I am about getting close to you.”
She got fear.
She was born into it. The horrors still woke her up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
“What’s got you tripped up?” she asked, hoping she could help him through it.
“I feel silly.”
“It’s okay, Captain. I won’t mock you. I understand that feeling of being out of control.”
“It’s all about my age.”
She stared at him.
Okay, she wasn’t expecting that.
He’d clearly been overthinking this.
“Your age is the issue?”
“Yes. Let’s face it. I’m old enough to be your father.”
She stared at him. “Well, while kinky, I never even thought about that.”
He stared at her. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I. I never thought about it. Do you look at me and just see my age? Is that all you notice about me?”
God!
Definitely not.
“No.”
“What do you see, Captain?” Natasha asked for both him, and for herself.
“I see life, beauty, and a woman who touches me on some deep level. I just don’t know what I have to offer you.”
She stared at him.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“She did do a number on you.”
Yeah, he was well aware.
“You should just ask me what I see in you. Maybe if you didn’t try to figure it out, and instead ask me, you wouldn’t be so confused.”
Was it really that easy?
Could he be overthinking this?
“What do you see in me, Natasha? I can’t possibly be your type. You’re gorgeous. You’re in the prime of your life, and you could have anyone in the world. I know. I see men watching you, and I know that when you realize I’m not all I’m cracked up to be, you’ll leave me behind.”
There.
It was the truth, and he was ashamed by it. He was thinking about the future and falling in love only to lose it once more.
“And you’ll be hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Well, to answer you, Captain,” she said, putting the Styrofoam container down. “You brought me something to eat. No one, other than my brother, has ever done that for me. You wanted to feed me, why?”
“So you wouldn’t be hungry.”
“You have a deep well of compassion. That, to me, is really sexy.”
Chris let her talk.
The stage was hers.
“You hover over Emma.”
“I don’t want her to get hurt. She’s like my sister. I love her.”
“No one, other than my brother, has ever wanted to protect me. Men, in the world I’m from, hurt you. They never hold you, love you, or protect you. I am attracted to you, Captain, because you’re sweet, gentle, and loving.”
“I’m also old.”
She moved from her place on the couch and crossed to him. Gently, she took the container from his hand and placed it on the coffee table. When he stared at her, she took a seat in his lap.
If she ever wanted to be with this man, she was going to have to lead the way. Christopher Ford was lost.
He was struggling.
The second she sat, he put his arms around her to protect her.
“And that right there is why I want to be with you. To protect is instinctual. I never have to worry that you’ll hit me, or abuse me. To me, that’s a gift.”
Gently, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t think you’re old, Christopher. I think you’re perfect. I’ve seen too much. I may be young, but I can’t forget where I’ve been, what I’ve lived, and how it sucked. I just want someone who will keep me safe. I’m not afraid of you. My past sucked, and it damaged me too. What I look for in a man isn’t the same as other women.”
Chris loved the way she felt against him.
“I want someone who would die before ever hurting me. That’s precious and rare.”
He ran his hands down her back. “I would never hurt you, Natasha. I swear I would die first.”
“I know. I trust you.”
He knew how huge that was.
After all she’d been through, she was willing to trust him with her heart.
It was hard not to think about her pressed to his body. His lower anatomy began stirring.
“Natasha.”
She turned in his arms and found his mouth with hers. The kiss was gentle, it was sweet, and it helped clear his mind. As she stayed against him, Chris took over. He led the way, his big hand pressed to the back of her head, locking her to him.
It deepened.
Heat rushed through him.
He’d been dreaming of this moment since he’d woken up in the hospital bed and thought she was his nurse.
It was unbelievable.
When he couldn’t handle the pleasure anymore, he moaned. “Natasha,” he whispered, freeing her mouth.
“Give me a chance. Forget my age, and let me just be me. Maybe you’ll find something worthy in me.”
He already did.
“Want to go to the gallery thingy with me tomorrow night?” he asked. “I would love for you to be my date.”
Emma had been right.
Chris would come around.
“I would love to be your date, Captain.”
Hearing his old job title from her lips did something to him. It warmed his body.
“Promise you won’t hurt me?” he asked, staring into her aqua eyes.
“I promise I won’t. I already love you. I�
�d rather die than do that to you.”
His heart skipped.
Chris was beginning to believe her words.
And it felt nice.
Chapter five
Dalton and Tiffany
Harding’s Home
W hen they got there, it was silent in the neighborhood. In fact, all the well-manicured lawns said one thing.
There was money in this section of town.
Now, they weren’t talking Terrace Glen money or the kind that Greyson Croft drew in as a Director of the FBI in Vegas, but it was more than an accountant would make.
In today’s day and age, most families had two working adults, but in the Harding family, that wasn’t the case. Now it was up to Emma and Chris to figure out why.
Oh, she could guess.
She would bet a million bucks it had everything to do with the fact he was likely taking some kickbacks from his fledgling mob boss.
Tony Mays was likely asking him to hide illegal things in his books. She’d seen it before in Philly.
She’d really seen it in Vegas.
It was the norm.
“You’re smiling,” she said, as they approached the house. On the front door, there was an arrow drawn on a piece of paper. It was pointing to the mat.
Surely…
There was no freaking way.
When she lifted it, there was indeed a key under the mat.
Curtis laughed. “I was smiling before, but now I’m really amused,” he stated. “Who does shit like that and lives to tell about it in this day and age?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a family that has a member missing. This might be why. Just tattoo ‘rob me’ on your damn forehead and get it over with already.”
Curtis agreed.
When they opened the door, the inside was nothing like the outside. The house was lived in, and it looked homey. With four kids, that was likely going to happen.
“So, why are you?” she asked, moving around a room as she checked out all the pictures. Everyone was smiling in them, and they looked like a happy couple.
Nothing looked out of place.
“Why am I what?” he asked, distracted as he did the job.
“You’re grinning while you dig through someone’s junk drawer. That has to mean something.”
Lost Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 2) Page 11
