by Taylor Lee
“I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock.”
Lexie frowned, “What? What do you mean? Where do you…Where are we going?”
He gave her a hard look. “I’m giving you a ride to your new job. See you at eight.”
She stood in the doorway for several minutes, trying to absorb the enormity of his statement. Given his fierce attention to her fighting skills, she could only conclude one thing. He’d accepted that she was going to work at the Naughty Lady. Not only that, maybe he would help her. For the first time since Anthony died, Lexie dared herself to believe. Maybe she didn’t have to go it alone in this awful mission after all.
Chapter 17
The tense man sat at his desk musing over the scene at the dojo. He ran his hands through his short cropped hair. Overcome with fury, he thought about the tall dark haired soldier. His nemesis. He’d hated him for so long it was part of his DNA. He despised him for the way he’d skated past everyone, climbed over men twice his age. No one Gardner’s age should be a full bird. Maybe a captain or Lt. Colonel, but a full bird? Likely to be up for brigadier at any minute? No, way! The ignominy of it gnawed at his gut. Just because the guy was some kind of a fucking hero. He’d waited a long time for justice. But it wouldn’t be long now. Even heroes could be taken down, put in their place. Permanently.
He thought about the two of them at the dojo. Damn, the girl is beautiful. Shit, she does look just like her brother. And Gardner is obviously nuts about her. He flushed with pleasure. That made his work even more enjoyable. Nothing like taking that fucker down and letting him know what is happening to his woman before he dies.
Gloating over the thought, he turned his attention to the bank statements he’d just reviewed. Gardner could have his fucking glory. He was going to retire with more cash than twenty generals and even some of the shyster senators he dealt with every day. Those political assholes thought they were so smart, stealing from the public and making sure their crimes were legal. He scoffed. Penny ante horseshit. His nest egg was big enough now that he had off shore accounts in eight countries. He hadn’t spent his life overseeing special ops not to know where to hide things you didn’t want found. Like money. Or bodies.
He tented his fingers and turned his thoughts to Walt. Walt had been the perfect foil. On every base throughout the country where he’d set up his operation, he’d managed to find the Walts of the world. Drunks, discontents. The legions of men who never went anywhere in their careers and blamed those who did. Men who’d been shunted to positions that on the surface looked harmless, but for his operation were essential. Take Walt. Evidence clerk in the YPD. Couldn’t get less important than that. He chuckled. Unless you knew how many illegal drugs that insipid clerk catalogued in a day. This close to the border, it was a goldmine. It was easy to siphon off what he needed. He didn’t need much, just enough to cover his real source. In every transport plane carrying complex military equipment and supplies, there was always room to bury a belly load of drugs, if all the systems were in place. And he made sure they always were.
Hell, these locals thought the Columbian cartels were ruthless. They hadn’t messed with the Central Asian ones and the Eastern Block. And Afghani dust was the finest in the world. Nothing compared. At the rate they were selling it, compared to what they paid for it, they were making four times what they could with the local crap.
He groaned thinking about Beloi. The guy had been a lot like Gardner, too smart for his own good. Pressing, pushing. Never accepting anything at face value. In the beginning, drawing in the YPD had been a nice touch, took the focus off the base. If shit happened he planned to make Walt the fall guy. He knew from his contacts that Beloi was on to Walt. Figured Walt for the stooge he was and kept poking around, asking questions. Beloi wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t just accept that when drugs were involved it was the fucking gangs.
His stomach churned. The only person in the whole god damn army who was as smart as Beloi was his fucking commander, the mighty Jake Gardner. And thanks to Walt, the biggest fuck up alive, not only had he brought attention to the base by leaving Beloi’s body here, but they’d sent in wonder boy Gardner to solve the crime.
No question. Walt was history. He had to get rid of him. Walt was more of a liability than ever. He had one more job for the fucker then he’d give the order to take Walt out. One thing about the local gangs, as long as you stayed in their good graces, paid them the agreed cut, all you needed to say was, take him down. Their only question? How do you want it to look? In this case, he decided a scribbled suicide note would do nicely. One that described how Walt felt he had to kill Beloi, that he was afraid he would out him. Hell, nothing the press likes better than a cop killing a cop. That would take the heat off the base and his operation for years to come.
He looked up at the knock on the door.
He barked out a guff, “Yes?”
The young lieutenant saluted. “I have the reports you asked for, sir.”
He nodded, dismissing the soldier with an impatient flick of his wrist.
“Leave them.”
As the door closed, he turned back to the mountain of paperwork on his desk. Seeing the list of telephone calls he needed to return, he grimaced. Those fucking senators. He looked forward to the day when he’d never have to speak to an elected official again. Empty, pompous assholes. If you put all one hundred of them in a room with a couple of chimpanzees, the apes would win an IQ test with their eyes closed.
~~~
A sign on the outside of the door said: ‘I’m in the shower. Come in.’
Jake shook his head and growled an epithet under his breath. Brady and Clint chuckled behind him.
Jake unlocked the front door with his key and ushered his men in, hollering out as they entered, “Lexie, we’re here.”
She called, “I’ll be out in a minute. I’m getting dressed.”
Motioning his men into the living room, Jake grabbed three beers from the refrigerator and followed them.
Jake let Brady’s raunchy chatter and Clint’s appreciative laughter float over his head. Most of the time he enjoyed Brady’s off color humor as much as anyone, but tonight the ball of fear in his gut made joking impossible. He’d trusted his gut for so long that he didn’t have to analyze his anxiety. No need to wonder why. Use Lexie as bait? He’d have dressed down a subordinate for suggesting the idea. But here he was, the commander of the operation, deliberately putting a civilian in harm’s way. Not just any civilian. Lexie. He took a long pull off his beer willing the brew to settle his gut. It didn’t. He looked up when he heard her coming down the hall. When he saw her, the beer turned to acid in his mouth. He almost choked.
She stood in the doorway hopping on one foot trying to put a five inch red patent leather stiletto shoe on her other foot. The retro dance hall girl’s outfit was made to entice. Jake groaned. And that was before it went on Lexie’s body. A red satin corset laced up the front cinched in her waist, emphasizing the swell of her full breasts and curve of her hips. A flouncy skirt swirled when she moved, giving a tantalizing view of the scrap of red satin doing a piss poor job of covering her firm butt cheeks. She’d piled her hair on the top of her head, holding it with a careless clip. Errant curls teased the back of her neck and the side of her face. Jake was confident there wasn’t a red blooded man alive who wouldn’t want to snag the clip holding up her hair just to see it fall down her back in a curtain of gold. But it was her legs that had his nerves shrieking. Sheathed in thigh high black fishnet stockings topped by a black and red garter, she put Los Vegas showgirls to shame. A black velvet ribbon circling her pale throat completed the outfit, a blatant invitation to sin. The epitome of a “Naughty Lady.” She’d added a layer of bright red shiny goop to her already full lips and her flashing dark eyes lined in black and shadowed with sparkling color looked wider, more inviting than ever.
Brady let out a low whistle, speaking for all three men.
Lexie was startled when she saw Brady and another man sitting
by Jake in the living room. They looked surprised at her appearance. Jake looked stunned. And pissed.
She nodded to Brady.
Shaking his head, he grinned at her,
“Hi there, hotstuff.”
Jake jumped up, glaring at her. His voice cracked.
“Fuck, Lexie!”
She tossed her head and put her hands on her hips, lifting her chin defiantly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to the Senora Travieste. That you haven’t seen what the waitresses wear?”
He growled. “Yeah, I have. But I haven’t seen it on you.”
He ran his hands through his hair. His lips were pressed in a thin hard line. He shook his head in dismay.
“Damn, Lexie. I don’t know if I can do this.”
Irritation made her voice sharp.
“You aren’t doing anything, Jake. I am!”
She didn’t think his expression could harden any more, but it did. A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes as he advanced toward her. Taking hold of her arm, he pulled her up next to him and stared in her eyes. She could feel his anger, a palpable vibration. His voice was low, threatening.
“No darlin’. That’s where you are wrong.” He nodded to the armchair across from the men sitting on the sofa. His command was curt. “Sit down, Lexie.”
Jake took a deep breath and then another. Grasping for a distraction, eager to dampen the emotions rioting through him, he waited until she sat down. Her eyes flashed, a dangerous sign.
Seeking to lower the tension, he asked, “Want a beer?”
She frowned, then gave him a dismissive nod.
“Sure, why not.”
Jake grabbed four beers from the refrigerator. He’d known he would have trouble squaring their plan with his misgivings. But that was in the abstract. Lexie was anything but an abstraction. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. She got to him at a base level. Just being in the same room with her was enough to tighten his jeans. Seeing her dressed in this shameless outfit guaranteed to tempt a stone, he had to physically remove himself to gain perspective. Quiet his gut. Control his dick.
He handed her a beer and placed the others on the table. Both Brady and Clint grabbed for the refills.
Jake pulled the other armchair up next to hers, turning it at an angle to keep her securely in his vision.
“You already know Brady.”
His shaggy blond haired friend tipped his bottle at her with a grin. He’d scrubbed off any signs of the homeless guy mask. Now in low slung jeans, a Grateful Dead t-shirt and gold loop on one ear lobe, he looked like a surfer dude. Jake grimaced. Like the good looking smart assed guy that he was.
He nodded to the older man next to Brady.
“This is Clint.”
Jake had known Clint for twelve years. He was amazed how one of the fiercest fighters on his squad could look so bland. With his hair graying at the temples and his nondescript sport coat and tasseled loafers, he could be any business man out on the town. No one would know the driving force that had made his one of Jake’s key men.
Clint smiled at Lexie. Jake was relieved to see her guard drop slightly and she smiled back. Clint had that kind of an effect. He invited people to like him, feel comfortable with him. Jake managed a slight smile, a direct contrast to the impudent Brady who was never happier than when he gleefully threw outrageous bombs in the conversation guaranteed to keep everyone on edge.
Jake caught Lexie’s attention.
“Both Brady and Clint served with Anthony and me in Iraq. Brady was also with us in Afghanistan. Like me, this mission is not only official, it’s personal. They’re the best undercover guys you’ll meet. They are my key men on our team.”
“So now we’re a team?” Lexie shot him an annoyed glance and added, “I don’t suppose I have a say in that?”
Jake nodded in agreement.
“No, you don’t. You don’t have a choice, Lexie. This is the team and you’re on it. Brady and Clint will be visible, not hiding their interest in you. There are more men in the shadows, both cops and my men. I’ll give you a code word. If any guy ever tells you he’s with me or has been sent by me and doesn’t know the code, take that stiletto heel of yours and drive it through his throat.”
He ignored her startled gasp.
“This is how it’s gonna go down, Lexie. You’re going to drive your car to and from the club. We’re gonna put a tracer on you.”
Brady unwound his long legs and leaned toward her with a salacious grin.
“That’s my job, hot stuff.”
He looked her up and down and drawled, “Don’t worry, Jake. I’ll keep searching until I find a place no one can see. There’s gotta be somewhere under those scraps of material that will take a tracer.”
Lexie laughed and shook her head. Then seeming to remember that she was annoyed with Jake, she gave him a frosty glance.
“I suppose you already have one on my car.”
His lip curled. “Yep. I put one on it that first day at the station.”
She frowned.
“Dammit, Jake, you have no right. I am a private citizen.”
“Relax, sugar. I’m bending about 900% of the rules I follow to partner up with you. This may be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Just hope I don’t regret it for the rest of my life.” He stifled a groan and shrugged. “I don’t know how the hell else I can keep you safe.”
Drilling her with a stern look, he added.
“Remember. Lexie, we’re all on the same team.”
“Hmm. Too bad. I’m not much of a team player.”
He smiled. “You are now, sugar.”
He held her gaze until she looked away. He saw her indecision and pressed.
“Okay. This is your job. Do what you do best. Switch that little hot ass of yours around and get some attention.”
He huffed.
“Like it’s gonna take anything to make any man with a pulse notice you.”
She glanced up, and returned his glare.
“And then keep my eyes and ears open, right? Make friends with the girls? Let them think I am one of them. Act like I am new in town, right. Jake? Act like a waitress.
Don’t give away that I am a fighter. Act sort of innocent, but also a little hard…”
Jake held up his hands and broke in.
“Okay. Okay. I concede. You know what you are doing.”
Lexie frowned, then gave him an impudent smile.
“One question. Who are you going to be? Everyone in the bar last night saw you with me. We can’t very well hide it.”
Brady took a slug of his beer. Dangling the bottle between his fingers, he turned to Jake.
“Ah, yeah, big guy. You two did make a bit of a scene last night.”
Jake felt his cheeks heat, matching the flush on Lexie’s face.
He frowned at Brady, then gave Lexie a hard glare.
“Yeah, we did. But we’re going to turn it to our advantage. I am going to act like the jealous outraged boyfriend. You can make it clear to the girls that you and I are on the outs. That I am too possessive, too demanding. That will allow me to hang around, but also not be with you. Think you can pull that off, darlin’?”
Brady guffawed.
“I don’t know, big guy. That’ll be a tough one. But don’t overdo it. If you can keep from growling when any guy comes within three feet of her, maybe they won’t throw you out.”
Jake pinned him with a combative stare.
“Make that maybe they won’t TRY to throw me out.”
Brady nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”
Lexie scoffed and rolled her eyes at the macho interplay. But Jake leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, and she found she couldn’t look away. He was so serious, so intent. She shivered, wondering for a short minute if she’d been crazy to think she could do this on her own. His eyes narrowed, and the slight smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes.
Jake continued, his gaze never leaving
hers.
“When your shift is over, Lexie, go to your car. At least two men will be in the parking lot. Get in and drive straight home. One of our guys will be behind you to make sure no one follows you. Park in the garage. Again, we have the house staked out. And one of us will be waiting inside for you.”
Gasping at the extent of their preparations, she had an insight into Jake, the commander, hard, detailed, and relentless. But she reminded herself before she shrunk into mindless acquiescence, she’d been taking care of herself for years now. For God’s sake, she was a world class martial artist. She raised her chin, determined not to be cowed.
“Can I assume that you’ve had it staked out since you moved me here?”
His smile broadened.
“Yeah, darlin’, that’s a safe assumption.”
Lexie shook her head disgust at his over protectiveness. She broadened her glare to include Brady.
“Et tu Brute?”
Brady’s guilty shrug said it all.
~~~
Jake and Brady stood on the porch watching her pull out of the garage without a backward glance. At the entrance to the cul de sac, she came to a brief stop, then gunned the Camaro and sped away, dust from the dry road wafting behind her.
