by Carmen Faye
Dakota believed that. But he also believed that they were right. Asher was playing risky games. Why he'd told Manny they'd done away with her wasn't known. But now they were all a little paranoid that they were in danger. And everyone was acting out because of it.
"I'm not so sure," Charlie spoke. "He seems to be up her ass."
"Or wishing he was," Mike laughed.
"He's capable." Dakota repeated. "He knows what he's doing."
"We are supposed to fight the ATF," Nelson spoke. "Not trying to bed them."
Charlie laughed. "Well, Logan isn't really my type."
"We have to have trust Asher," Dakota continued. "He's not perfect, but he's yet to let us down."
The guys nodded and Dakota breathed a sigh of relief. He had reminded them of the man they trusted. He continued to tout the clever ways of Asher and then sent them to another room to work out the plan.
"Let me know what you come up with," he smiled. "I'll be right here."
As they walked out, Dakota took a deep breath. He only hoped that his faith was founded. He, too, was concerned about the boss they'd blindly followed for years. Suddenly he didn’t seem very capable. Dakota had hope, but something in him told him that they were in more danger than usual.
***
Asher stood over her and watched. She was sleeping. It amazed him how quietly she slept. He wondered what had made her the way she was. Training? Life? He wanted to know, but he didn't have time for that. A man that wanted her dead and thought she was would be in his home within a few hours.
He felt bad about having to wake her only to tell her he was putting her back into full captivity. She seemed so peaceful.
For a moment he toyed with whether or not to tell her the truth. Part of him wanted to trust in her. But he couldn't. She was a liability. One noise in the hopes of stirring things up and she'd essentially kill them all. She wouldn't realize how very dangerous it was for her. Hell, Asher barely liked speaking to Manny. He didn’t like liabilities.
"Fuller," Asher snapped and the agent jolted awake.
"What?" she asked in her sleepy little voice. As her mouth twisted he remembered how it felt against his skin and he wanted to crawl into the bed with her and give her a good fuck. Actually, a mind-blowing fuck.
"I'm sorry," he apologized as he began to pick up the rope. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what he was doing.
"But," she argued. "I did what you asked," she continued.
"I know," he answered. "That's why I’m sorry." he began to wrap the rope around her ankles. "Something's come up," he smiled. "It's important to keep you quiet and still."
She was reminded for a moment that she was dealing with a criminal. Attraction or not, she was still a liability to him. Melissa wasn't ready to die.
"But, I will...." he placed a finger across her lips.
"I can't change my mind," he smiled. "But if you do as asked," he leaned down and kissed her lips. Sucking gently and alternating with small nibbles, he listened as she moaned. "If you do what I ask, I will make sure you are satisfied with the results." he finished as he released her mouth from his.
She felt the rope tighten. She watched as he took the rag from before and shoved it into her mouth. The room went dark as he blindfolded her. She felt him staring at her and she wondered what was going on. Was Logan and Wallaby coming by? Was she going to be saved? She felt almost as disappointed as she was excited by the idea. Fuck, she wasn't going to want to go when they did get there. She wanted to know more, explore more and enjoy more.
Fuck.
CHAPTER 8
Melissa heard the door open gently. He was back. She had no idea what time of day it was. Her blindfold kept her clueless. In her mind, it felt like days. She had lain in the silence and thought. About her situation. About why the agency hadn't come for her. About why she hadn't tried to make noise when he left her alone. But mostly, she thought about his kiss.
She had enjoyed the kiss and that scared her. She was a strong and independent woman. She had a career, a home and a life she enjoyed. She wasn't this woman. The one that was bound and captive. More than anything, she wasn't the one that would enjoy it. What the fuck was wrong with her?
He was being quiet. There was no intention of waking her and for some reason he presumed once again that she was asleep. But she felt his breath against her neck as he stretched across her and released the ties around her wrists. She felt his fingertips glide around the back of her head and untie the blindfold.
Her heart raced as he slipped the ropes from her legs and pulled the rag from inside of her mouth.
"Thanks," she whispered.
"Awake I see," he smiled down at her.
"Yes," she answered softly. "How was your night?"
"Good," he answered. "No problems at all."
"Good," she smiled.
Asher walked across the room and sat down.
"You can get dressed," he replied. "You have some clothes in the top drawer," his hand waved towards the dresser.
Something about the gesture struck her. She wasn't sure if it was a feeling of gratefulness that he was allowing her to get dressed, sadness that she would no longer be exposed for him or confusion at having her own drawer in his bedroom; but she began to cry. She just wasn't sure if it was happy or sad tears escaping her eyes.
Rather than allow him to see her as being vulnerable, she stood and walked to the dresser. She then opened it and pulled out the clothes he had offered her. They weren't her typical work attire, but she liked them. And they were her exact size. She did notice that he didn't include panties and a bra in the ensemble and wondered if it was preference or the inability to pick something out.
"I don't like them," he answered the thoughts in her head. "Sexier to see the fabric slide against your skin."
"I see," she answered and began to get dressed. Somewhere in the process of this capture she had lost her desire to hide her body. She didn't mind standing in front of this man with no clothes on.
"You look nice," he responded when she turned around. "Except for the tears."
She looked down. "I'm not sure why I'm crying."
"Do you hate me?" He asked and she knew he really meant it.
The answer came without thinking. "No."
"Good." He replied with a soft smile. "I'm glad."
Melissa sat in a chair directly across from Asher. She didn't remember what it was like to feel free. She'd been bound for so long. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her. "Why the freedom?"
"Don't get excited. You still can't leave the room."
"I didn't think I could."
"You've been tied up long enough. I think it’s okay now."
"You seem bothered.” Her voice sounded faulty and out of place for some reason.
The laugh he emitted let her know that he'd gotten the reason for her timid behavior. "I'm okay,"
She smiled. "Okay."
***
"Sometimes things aren't what they seem Fuller," he offered after nearly a half hour of silence. She was just glad to know what time it was and how long had passed.
"I know," she replied. "I'm learning that." The blush on her face showed him that she was referring to him. Or maybe even herself.
He sat silently again. He wanted to share something with her, but he was afraid. She was an agent with the very organization he was trying to fight again. Could she really be trusted?
"He killed my dad." Asher finally let out.
"Who?"
"Your buddy Logan."
She nodded as if she understood.
"It happens in this business, Asher."
"It wasn't this business." He spoke softly. "My dad was a plumber."
"Why would Logan kill a plumber?"
Asher watched her face. She didn't know. She really didn't have a clue what was going on.
"Wrong place, wrong time. Logan didn't realize he was there. He was doing a deal. A big one. But everyone knew who he was. My dad walked into the ro
om and saw it happen. So Logan killed him."
Melissa covered her mouth. "When?"
Asher was silent for a long time. Finally, he said. "A while ago."
The emotions were overwhelming him. He didn't want to stop and remember these details. He wanted to forget them forever. But they were the driving force behind everything he existed for. And he wanted her to understand. To believe him. To know the reality.
"Maybe you have the details wrong. How would anyone know?"
"I know.”
"Asher," she began and paused. "If Logan was involved in crime, who would have told on him."
Asher sat silently. He had the answer but he wasn't sure he wanted to share it. She didn't seem eager to believe him.
"What kind of deal?" she continued to press. She didn't want him to get angry, but she wanted to understand.
"Weapons," he answered. "Selling them to high profile criminals. The kind of shit that you people are supposed to be stopping.”
"That goes against his entire job description," she said without thinking.
"That’s why he killed my dad."
"But Asher," she argued. "If it was a while ago, how could you know the details?"
"Because I do."
He decided to stop talking. It wasn't a good idea. He was getting too close. And she was going to turn on him. They couldn't be trusted. None of them. She'd back that pompous prick over him any day. And she'd use the knowledge to get him killed or locked away.
She didn't push when he didn't speak again. She just sat quietly. Waiting to see if he said anything else. He liked that about her. Hell, he liked a lot of things about her.
***
Melissa watched him, searching his face for lies and finding none. The pain was evident in his eyes. She wanted to make it better and that terrified her. Sitting in this room, barely lit, and discussing his pain brought them closer. Too close. She didn't want to be this close with him. She didn't want to feel anything for him. But she was starting to. And she was starting to believe in him. That scared the fuck out of her.
Asher stared into space. She wanted to hold him. To let him know she cared. But she couldn't. Her job was to take him down. Not to fall for him. She couldn't let herself get attached to this man, or vice versa.
"Asher," It was the first time she'd used his first name. He noticed it as well and lifted his eyes to meet her. "Tell me about it," she prodded.
"He walked into the room," Hudson spoke quietly. "Logan was standing with the guy and talking. There was a pile of weapons at his feet. 'Are you going to pay for these or do I need to find someone else'. That's what Logan said.
“My dad tried to turn back. He knew better than to be seen. But there was a noise." He took a trembling breath. "Logan heard it and turned around. He saw my dad, pulled out his gun, and asked who he was. He told him and Logan shot him in the head and like that, he was dead."
"Asher," she spoke softly and placed her hand on his arm. "Are you sure this is true?"
"I was there." He looked at her as tears and hatred filled his eyes. "I made the noise. I watched the whole thing."
CHAPTER 9
"Agent Wallaby," the outstretched hand waited for him to grab it and he did. "Detective Larson. Nice to meet you."
"Same," Andy replied.
"What can I do for you?" Larson asked as he led Andy to his lavish office.
"We have a missing agent," Andy answered. "We think the Nomads may have her. I'm here to gather whatever information I can get."
Larson sat in his chair and leaned back with his hands behind his head. He let a sigh of air out of his mouth and Andy watched as his chubby face tensed slightly. Larson was the depiction everyone had of police detectives. Short, chubby, balding on top with a nice suit. But it was obvious he did more research than work.
"Nomads huh?" He shook his head. "He's probably gone."
"She," Andy corrected.
Larson sat up a little. "What happened?"
"Sting," Andy answered. "She was caught. We've not heard anything since. No signs of death. No signs of life. It’s like she just disappeared."
"Sounds like Nomads," Larson picked up a toothpick and stuck it between his lips. "Trying to quit," he nodded as if indicating the reason for the toothpick. "Helps with the hand motion."
"Any chance she might still be alive?" he asked.
"I can't see why they'd keep her," Larson answered. "Honestly, if they found an agent inside, they'd probably torture her and try to get information. They don't have a moral compass like the rest of us."
"Why not let us know?" Andy felt his heart drop.
"That I don't know," he shook his head. "Seems like Hudson would want bragging rights."
"He's pretty bad?"
Larson nodded. "Most dangerous sonofabitch this side of the Mississippi."
"So tell me," Andy said.
"It might take a while," he replied.
"I've got time," Andy sat back and got comfortable. Ready to listen to what his ally had to say.
"Okay, well," Larson leaned back and prepared to tell his story. "Hudson was just a kid when his dad was shot point blank in the head. He kept saying was a cop. But he was a damn kid, young, and obviously in shock. We tried to get him help," Larson shook his head. "It's a shame really. Poor boy didn't want to accept that his dad was involved in some shady shit. Worked for one of the worst criminals in town."
"Really?"
"Yep. Whoever killed his old man cleared out before EMTs got there. Nothing was left but the kid and the body. He said something about guns, but we never found any."
Andy whistled. "That's gotta be tough."
"It was. We all wanted to help him, but he didn't trust a damn one of us. Swore that we were the ones who killed his father. Ended up in a few homes and then found his way to Nomads. He started younger than most. Minor crimes. Worked his way up in the club. Seemed his only goal in life was to fuck the law.
"He turned the Nomads into what they are. He pushed them into high level weapons and drugs deals. So big that they were dangerous even for them. They turned a motorcycle club with petty crimes into a full-fledged criminal organization."
"And that's why we watch them," Andy mentioned.
"No shit, Sherlock. But Hudson runs a tight operation. Comes with hating cops your whole life."
"Don't be so sure." Andy spoke. "We’re pretty fucking good at what we do."
"Then why are you here?" Larson asked and Andy was speechless for a minute. "Look, I'm sure you mean well. But you already lost an agent.
"Hudson is smooth. He's charming. He's a good lookin’ man. Oh don’t give me that look." Larson laughed. "Gotta admit the truth sometimes. He knows how to flap his pretty lips and get off scot-free."
"If he has Melissa, he will get caught," Andy stated with conviction.
"If he has her, and she's alive, then she’s as good as dead." Larson spoke matter-of-factly.
"Do you know where his house is?"
"We do, but like I said. Guy keeps his hands clean. Doesn’t shit where he eat. How’d your agent get in?"
"Underground tunnel. Look, I think she's alive."
"You hope she is.".
Andy stood up, shook the cops hand and thanked him for the time. As he turned to leave, something crossed his mind and he spun back around.
"Are you sure it wasn't a cop?" Andy asked. “The guy who killed Hudson’s old man?”
Larson stopped for a moment. He seemed to be pondering the idea and then he let out a full belly laugh. "Why would a cop shoot a plumber?"
"Maybe the cop wasn't such a good one?"
"What are you trying to say Mr. Wallaby?"
"I'm just saying, did anyone check into his story?"
Larson shook his head. "No reason. Just a kid raised in Silverton. You know how they are—that whole don’t trust the po-po bullshit."
"And if he was right?"
"I'd be surprised. But it still wouldn't excuse what he does now. He's a criminal of th
e worst kind Mr. Wallaby. And I know you want hope that there's a good guy in there with your friend. But I'm telling you, nobody goes into Hudson's life and comes out alive unless they benefit him in some way. Do you see your agent helping him out?"
