In a second, Mitch found himself staring down the barrels of Roberts and Smith’s guns. In his rush of anger, and the shooting of Petrova, he’d forgotten about the dirty cops that were still in the room. “Drop it,” one of them told him. He wasn’t even sure who, because Mitch couldn’t take his eyes from Juliana. He sent her a silent apology, shaking his head. He was known as the planner in the group, the one to see a situation from all angles before acting, but with Juliana in danger, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d royally fucked up, and now they were both going to pay.
Their guns cocked and Mitch knew it was over for him. He’d been in dangerous situations before, but as he looked at Juliana, all that mattered to him was her and her survival. He turned to his former colleagues. “I don’t care what happens to me,” he told them. “Just, guys, use your decency, I know there’s still a part of you that remembers why you became cops. Just do one good thing. Don’t hurt the woman, okay? She won’t tell anyone what she saw.”
Smith moved his gun from Mitch and trained it on Juliana. “I’d like to Mitch, but we can’t take that risk.” Mitch braced for the shot -
When all of the lights in the club turned on, and he heard the chaos of yelling and loud, deep, but familiar voices, as his team stormed the building, forcing the dirty detectives to drop their guns. In seconds they swarmed over Smith and Roberts roughly disarming them and dragging them down to the floor to be cuffed.
As Joe cut Juliana’s restraints, Steve looked at the contusions forming on Mitch’s face. He batted away his concerned team member’s hands. “I’m fine.” He went to Juliana. She barely saw him as her eyes were fixed on the lifeless form of Yuri Petrova, while she absently rubbed the skin where the plastic ties had dug into her wrists. He crouched beside her, and pulled her chair to face him and away from the body. He wrapped his arms around her, and she collapsed against him. “It’s over, babe. We’re okay. It’s all over.”
She shivered in his arms and put her forehead on his shoulder, seeking comfort. He pulled back and saw blood on her shirt, “Jesus, Jules, are you okay?” He checked her over, but soon realized it was his own blood. The forgotten gash on his forehead was still bleeding.
“Come on, boss man,” Steve said, helping him to his feet. That’s a pretty nasty cut on your forehead, man,” Steve told him. “It’ll need stitches. We’ll take you to the hospital.”
“No, stitch me up at the warehouse. I don’t have time for the hospital. Man, you guys should work on your timing. How did you know we were here?”
“We were tailing Smith and Roberts,” Peter told him. “And when they stopped outside of Juliana’s, we thought it strange. We saw them put you in the back of the van and we figured that it would be best to follow instead of intervening, hoping he’d lead us to Petrova. But we lost them in traffic. And it took a while to figure out where you were.” Peter paused, before pulling Mitch into a bear hug. When they pulled apart, Mitch could see the concern and fear that had etched his brother’s face. Mitch knew that Peter must have struggled with the decision.
Joe gestured to the handcuffed police officers, Smith and Roberts. “What about these guys? Warehouse?”
Mitch thought about it, and as much as he wanted to bring them to their secret space and dole out a little street justice, or hand them over to the O’Connells, he shook his head. “No, book ‘em,” he told them. “Jules identified them as the shooters from the back alley, I’m sure we can tie them to other crimes, as well.”
Steve looked at Mitch. “If corruption goes as high as we believe it does, they won’t be convicted.”
Mitch knew that too. “I know, but their reputations will be ruined. And at least it’ll send a message that we’re paying attention.”
Peter pointed to Petrova’s body as it lay on the floor. “And what about him?”
“Call it in. Get the piece of shit out of here. I’ve got to see Declan,” he whispered out of ear shot of Smith and Roberts.
“So the Irish are back in charge now. I don’t like this,” Peter muttered. “It feels like we created a monster.”
“We’re in charge,” Mitch said with a hard edge to his voice. “We’re ending a mob war, taking down human trafficking rings and getting bad drugs off the street. We never had those problems with the Irish before they attempted to expand. Declan is going to keep it small, but make sure the rest of the Russian mob knows that he’s running the streets.
“How many more people would have fallen if we didn’t interfere?” Joe said. “Without Petrova, the Russians and their trafficking rings are done.”
Mitch nodded as he looked around at the dead man on the floor, and two former detectives who had their hands cuffed behind their backs. He was done talking, and he walked away from his team, back to Juliana. He wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s get the hell out of here.
Chapter 29
Juliana was exhausted when, several hours later, Peter dropped them off at Mitch’s building. “Are you guys sure you don’t want to stay with me and Erica tonight?”
There was nothing that Juliana wanted more than to go to sleep, wrapped up in Mitch’s embrace. She was tired, and she didn’t feel as if she had the energy to see anyone that night.
Thankfully, Mitch shook his head. “No. We’re fine,” he said, fatigue and weariness clouding his voice. “Thanks for the ride, Peter. Let’s talk in the morning.”
They got out of Peter’s car, and Juliana took Mitch’s hand, and they walked, silently, slowly to the elevator. When the doors closed in front of them, Mitch wrapped an arm around her, and she sank into his chest. His strength and warmth was the only thing keeping her upright. This was their first moment of solitude since being abducted, and she took every part of him, every bit of comfort he could provide. She’d never been so afraid.
Mitch kept his arm around her as they walked down the hallway to his door. He unlocked the door and they went inside without turning on any of the lights. Juliana limply made her way to the couch, still absentmindedly rubbing her wrists. Mitch went into the kitchen and returned holding a liquor bottle and two short glasses. He sat next to her on the couch and poured them both a little of the dark liquid. “Drink up,” he told her. “It’ll help you sleep.”
With a shaking hand, she brought the glass to her lips, and swallowed a large mouthful. The whiskey burned on its way down, but settled warmly in her belly, and relaxation radiated throughout her body. She licked her lips and realized that she could still taste the metallic residue of Yuri Petrova’s gun. She gulped back another mouthful to dispel the flavour. “Thank you.”
They said nothing else for a while, as they sat side-by-side in the dark. Now that the danger was past, she felt watered down and brittle in the absence of her surging adrenaline. Exhausted, yet still anxious from the stress of her experiences. She wondered if Mitch felt the same way. She wondered how he got used to the danger that came with his job. In the dull moonlight, she could see the bandages on his face, the lumps caused by the other man’s fist.
“Jules,” he said, his voice breaking through the silence of the room. “I’m sorry.”
She reached out and touched his face, he took her fingers in his, stilling her movements. He looked at her. They were still sitting in the dark, but she could see his eyes, the steel blue penetrating her, looking into her. She could have lost Mitch. Hell, she could have been killed. “Why are you sorry? You saved me.”
“You shouldn’t have needed saving. Policemen betrayed you. They betrayed both of us.” He lowered his head. “I thought… When I thought that it was over. They had me in their sights. I didn’t care. I only thought about you. About what would happen to you once they killed me.” There was a hitch in his voice, and she knew he was fighting tears. He turned to her, the moistness of his eyes betraying his self control. “I needed you to be safe, more than I needed to live. I love you.”
She closed her eyes, and let his words sink in. She had never heard unconditional love before, not from her family, and certai
nly not from a man. Mitch was willing to die for her, and the emotion hit her square in the chest, obliterating every amount of fear she’d felt. She’d spent so much of her life on her own, depending on only herself. But it didn’t need to be like that. She could maintain her independence, live her life, but that didn’t mean that Mitch couldn’t be a part of it.
“Mitch,” she whispered. “I love you too.” His smile lit up his face, but he still looked as tired as she felt. The day and night had definitely taken a toll on him as well. She raised her hands to his bearded cheeks, and looking into his blue eyes she suddenly didn’t care what had happened. All that mattered was that he was back with her. “Let’s go to bed.”
They made their way to his bedroom. Juliana stood before him, and removed her shirt, her bra, shimmied out of her jeans, and pushed them down along with her panties. She went to him, pushed his dirty jacket from his shoulders, and let it fall in a pool at his feet. She then focussed on the buttons of his shirt, ignoring the rust-coloured stains that she knew was his blood. Soon he was nude as well. She took his hand and led him back to the bed. He lay down, and she straddled his narrow hips. Nestling his growing erection between her thighs. She was exhausted, but sleep could wait. This moment was about celebrating life, feeling love, and she wanted, no needed, to feel Mitch, and make sure he felt her.
Her eyes roamed over him. Mitch’s body was a work of art. She brought her fingertips to his shoulders and kneaded the muscles there before she dragged her fingertips over his chest lingering at his nipples, causing him to shudder. Her hands ventured further south, over his firm, flat abdominal muscles. She leaned over and kissed him, her tongue sliding against him. Kissing him as if he provided her with her the breath of life. She reached down and found his erection, gripping it and he groaned into her mouth. She pulled away from his lips, and placed the tip of him at her opening, and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she lowered herself on him, until he filled her completely. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the feeling of him, and she rolled her hips, rising and falling on him.
He grabbed her hips and dug his fingers in, matching her rhythm with his own thrusts until they were both moaning and panting in synch. She dug her short nails into his pecs, to steady herself. But before long, he took her by the waist and rolled her over so that she was underneath him.
Juliana raked her short nails across his shoulder, and bit back a moan as he took control. She watched him watching her and she had never felt so worshipped by a man. He touched her as if he treasured her. Her hands grazed down the soft hair on his muscled forearms as he held himself just above her. He amazed her at every step. Nothing felt like being with Mitch. They rocked together slowly, and they both soon reached their peak, falling over the joyous cliff together. With a moan, Mitch collapsed on top of her, while she stoked the hard muscles of his back.
Afterwards, they lay together. His arms wrapped around her. Her warm behind snuggled tightly against his groin. They were silent, just enjoying the quiet and both pondering the level of intimacy they had just reached. He smoothed her arm distractedly, his warm hand sliding over her skin. She felt her eyes flutter shut, and she curled tightly into his side. Juliana finally felt safe, and she was confident that she could spend the rest of her life surrounded by his love.
Chapter 30
Two weeks later
Juliana felt Mitch’s strong arms encircle waist, and she opened her eyes. His lips found the base of her throat where it met her shoulders, and he pushed his erection into her behind, as she shivered and leaned into him. The sun was coming in through the window and she was surprised to not be surrounded by the masculine, dark furniture and linens of Mitch’s room. It took her a moment to remember that they had spent the night in her apartment. She smiled because it had been the first night in weeks that Mitch hadn’t insisted that they stay at his place, and he agreed that she could sleep in her own bed… as long as he joined her, of course.
The danger was over, and even though she still held the memories of the awful violence she’d witnessed over the period of a couple of short weeks, she was coping with it. Mitch helped. His strength and support was so woven into her life, that even though she still maintained the independence that was so important to her, she had no idea how she’d ever lived without him.
His palm smoothed over her stomach, and he pulled her to him. They were both unencumbered by clothing, and he grasped her thigh, lifting her leg to rest on his. He touched her, his fingers delving into her moist folds, and she moaned, throwing her head back against him. His sure, deft digits immediately found her clit, and he circled it with the pads of his fingers. He knew how just how to touch her and with only a few brief touches, she was building to climax.
Mitch used his other hand to position himself at her opening. She was ready for him, and he slid into her, joining their bodies, with one push. He made a low growl in her ear, as they lay on their side, and he took her from behind, pushing in and out with a slow, rhythmic pace. She tried to make him hurry, as she pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts, but he stopped her, clapping one hand onto her hip to hold her in place, while his fingers still strummed lazily around the bundle of nerves at her center.
Mitch’s breathing became heavier, and warm on her neck, and even though he kept his thrusts measured, his pace increased, and soon Juliana felt the warmth of the beginnings of her orgasm boil lower in her core with each touch of his fingers and push of his hips, Mitch further stoked the fire within her, hotter and brighter. The white heat spread throughout and her body vibrated with her orgasm as she pressed against him, cried his name, and came with a force that only he could produce within her. She heard his satisfied grunt in her ear, and he shuddered before he stilled behind her.
With a heavy sigh, Mitch disengaged from her. “As much as I’d like to stay here all day, I’ve got to get to work. I don’t want to late on my first day back.”
“I know,” she said, her smile was blissful. He had been given the okay to return to work, and she knew he was antsy to get back at it. “How does it feel to be back in the saddle?”
He looked around the floor, gathering his clothing. “It feels great, actually.” He looked up at her. “Where are my pants?”
“They might have ended up in the kitchen,” she told him. She remembered that they had cooked dinner together. Now that they were no longer in danger, they were trying things out, to achieve a sense of normalcy that their relationship had lacked.
He smiled and left her bedroom, wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt. She pushed out of bed and put on her bathrobe and followed him on the quest for his pants.
He found them and finished dressing quickly. “Running late?” she asked him. “Do you have time for coffee?”
He checked his watch. “I am running late, and I still have to go back to my place to get dressed, but I can wait for a coffee,” he said. “There’s nowhere else in town serving anything as good as you are,” he said with a raised eyebrow, implying that he wasn’t only talking about the coffee.
She smiled, but it fell when she remembered what his day would entail. “What about Smith and Roberts?” she asked him, trying to keep a casual tone, but she felt anything but that.
“They’re going to be formally charged with a list of crimes this morning. Murder is among the charges since they killed the Irish mobsters, and also orchestrated the prison murder of Alexei Ygenev, they also tipped off the Russian mob about the location of the safe house. You’ll need to testify. How do you feel about that?”
“I just want it over,” she told him. “But why did they do it? Why did they turn?”
He shrugged. “Peter interrogated them yesterday. I wish I could have been there. They said it started small: they would look the other way with drug deals, arrest the Russian’s competitors, warn them about police raids. But it escalated from hushing up murders to committing them. But there’s no coming back from this for them, and they confessed to everything, including the murders of the Ir
ish gangsters. So, the trial shouldn’t last too long. Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not nervous about testifying. I want them to pay. But what about the rest of them? What about the rest of Petrova’s gang? Are you going to arrest them?”
He paused, and then shook his head. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t be problem anymore.”
The finality in his voice made her pause. But as the coffee brewer sputtered to a stop, she forgot about it and poured them both a cup.
“What are you doing today?” he asked her.
“I’m going to the café to see if there’s anything that can be salvaged.”
“Why don’t you wait until this evening? I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary,” she told him. “I know you’ve got my back, but this is something I need to do for myself.” She hadn’t been downtown since the bombing, and she felt it was time to face facts.
“Okay,” he said, downing his coffee. “I’m really late now. Call me when you’re done, okay? Let me know how it looks.”
“Sure,” she said, walking to the door. “Have a good first day back. And be careful.”
He kissed her, and he held her close. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
Juliana sighed heavily. She was seated in the bar across the street from the charred shell of what used to be her café. A scrap of police tape fluttered in the wind over the plywood boards the city had nailed over the blasted out windows. She sipped from her wine glass, and looked out the window, with a dejected sigh, she forced herself to look away again. The place was a lost cause. Five minutes inside told her everything was destroyed, equipment had melted in the heat, mice had already started to nest in the inventory. Just standing there, thinking about how close she’d come to dying made her blood run cold, so she’d gone across the street to the bar to have a drink and to drown her sorrows. So far it was working. She really didn’t know how she would repair the damage and start anew.
Double Shot to the Heart (Brewed Moon Book 2) Page 19
