“Of what? The birds?”
“Yeah. I don’t like birds. They creep me out.”
“For real?” Briana was curious just how deep this fear went, but she was overwhelmed with finding out the facts. “Where did they come from? And are we talking pigeons or domesticated birds?”
“They were parrots. Or parakeets. I don’t know the difference.” Dylan rubbed her eyes and shook her head. “I guess they came from the kids’ room. I don’t know. But I’m there covering my head and trying to keep these creatures from using me as a perch. Of course the woman thinks I’m out to harm them, so she goes after me with the first thing she sees.”
“Oh no.”
“A tweezer. Gets me right in the arm.” Dylan tapped her biceps as proof. “I have a scar and everything.”
“No!” Briana said through a gasp. She tried to keep from laughing as she leaned in. “Show me.”
“We’d probably need to turn the light on. It’s miniscule.” Dylan reached for her hand and guided it over a tiny bump near the top of her arm. “You feel it?”
“My poor baby.”
“That’s it. My big line of duty injury.”
“Did you need stitches?”
“One.” Dylan held up a single finger. “One stitch.”
“No.” She peered closer but still could barely make out the mark.
“I did have to get a tetanus shot. Which oddly hurt more than the tweezers.” Dylan grabbed a bite of ice cream and swallowed it with a certain amount of finality. “I never really told anyone that,” she said, returning the spoon.
“Why?”
“Um…it’s embarrassing.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m glad you didn’t really get too hurt, though.” She placed a kiss in the vicinity of the old wound. “It’s cute that you’re afraid of birds.” She took a bite of ice cream. “Are you still?”
“Yes.”
“See, that’s adorable.”
“I think you’re making fun of me.” Dylan narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t really seem upset.
“Maybe a smidge,” she teased. “I like knowing stuff about you. Things that other people don’t know. It makes me feel kind of special.”
“You are special.” Dylan pulled her in close for a kiss. “Your lips are cold.”
“Ice cream.”
“Right.”
It clearly didn’t put Dylan off because she went back for more and then some, kissing the way down her neck to her semi-exposed breast. Briana didn’t dare stop her. On the contrary, she followed Dylan’s momentum when Dylan lay back on the mattress and used the collar of her shirt to pull Briana on top. Miraculously, she held on to the pint of Haagen Dazs.
“I should put this away.” She maneuvered into a straddle to get up, but Dylan held her in place.
“Not yet.”
“You want more?”
“I just like where you are right now.” Dylan’s grin was more than suggestive, but Briana didn’t need any encouragement. She was beyond ready to go again.
Dylan urged her hips lower, so their bodies aligned. “That’s better,” she said, holding on to her waist and grinding just the slightest little bit. “I love the way you feel,” she said. Her voice was raspy as hell, and her hands wandered. “Tell me something no one knows about you.”
Leave it to Dylan to ask a random question while she was trying to get her hormones under control. Briana was so turned-on she could barely think. Her underwear was saturated, and she was positive Dylan could tell. “For real?” she asked.
“It can be anything.” Dylan’s pout was cute and sexy at the same time. “Please?”
The request was simple, yet deep. Dylan was literally asking for an inside track. The crazy thing was she already had it. Briana had never let her guard down this much with anyone. Ever. But Dylan wanted details that could be hers alone. Briana understood the desire, and she racked her brain to come up with something good. “Things no one knows about me. Let’s see.”
“I’ll just entertain myself while you think.” Dylan drew lazy designs on her belly and her breasts, and Briana felt her body react.
“I have one.” She twirled the spoon in her hand, almost disappointed something surfaced so quickly.
“Hit me.”
“I can’t catch anything with my left hand. No matter how hard I try. Just can’t do it.”
“Bri, you’re left-handed. That makes no sense.”
“I know.” She offered Dylan a spoonful of ice cream. “That’s what makes it crazy.”
“Fair enough.”
“Oh,” she said, immediately coming up with something better. “I can play the harmonica.”
“So random. I love it.”
“What can I say—I went through a Bob Dylan phase.”
“Do you play guitar too?”
“Yes.”
“Wait, do you sing?”
“I can hold a tune.” Briana knew her voice wasn’t star quality, but she’d sung in the choir through high school.
“I did not know any of this.” Dylan seemed gratified and impressed. “How come I haven’t been serenaded yet? You’re holding out on me, honey.”
“Well, I don’t own a guitar or a harmonica at present.”
“We’re going to have to fix that asap. Because I need to experience this. Like, soon.”
She loved the way Dylan looked in this moment. Impish and entertained. Content, playful, sexy. She wanted it to always be like this.
“Dylan,” Briana said, fully aware she was about to change the momentum of the night. It was probably the wrong time to bring this up, but there didn’t seem to be a golden moment, and it had been weighing on her for weeks. “I have to leave.” She read the look of confusion on Dylan’s face. “Not tonight. I’m talking about the case. The US Attorney’s Office.”
Dylan’s groan sounded full of denial and protest. Briana needed to be strong.
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“But we’re making progress. And if a legit heroin buy happens, everything could blow wide open.”
Even though what Dylan said made sense, this decision still seemed the only real option. “I know.”
“I know I sound selfish,” Dylan said. “Obviously I want you at the helm because you’re the best. Everyone knows that. But I also know how invested you are in this case. Don’t you want to see it to the end?”
“Of course I do.”
Briana had never bailed midway through on anything. Not impossible professors in law school, not cases she thought unwinnable. Not even the weird bowling class she signed up for during undergrad before she realized PE was an elective. She always followed through. As much as she wanted to bury the Raffertys and George Rivas with evidence and hold them accountable for their crimes, she wanted Dylan more.
“It’s just getting too hard.”
“But it’s only for a little while longer.”
“You don’t know that.”
“But we can control it.”
“Only part of it. These cases, they twist and turn. There’ll always be other targets. Spinoff investigations. There’s already Rojas. You know how it goes.”
“Yes, but someone else could handle it when, or if, that lead pans out. Or if another surfaces. It would be a fresh start.”
“It wouldn’t be, though. My boss would expect me to prosecute. I would expect that if I was the boss. Because it makes the most sense.”
Dylan turned her head to the side, and Briana knew she was frustrated. She stood up to put the ice cream away before it completely melted and to give Dylan a second alone to process. She used the small walk to the kitchen to really think about what she wanted to say. There was a litany of logical and ethical reasons she could list to illustrate the soundness of her decision, but when she got back to the bedroom and saw the look on Dylan’s face, she went straight from the heart.
“I’m in love with you.” Dylan was about to
interrupt her, probably to echo the sentiment, but Briana stopped her. “Just listen to me.” She tipped her head up and stared at the crown molding. “It complicates everything.” She walked to the bed and smiled in appreciation when Dylan pulled back the covers and made room for her to sit close.
“I’m in love with you too. Just for the record.”
“I know.” Briana ran her hand down the side of Dylan’s chiseled face. “But there are times when I have to make case decisions, and my feelings for you”—she lowered her gaze—“they get in the way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You do all the legwork. The truly dangerous stuff. But I call the shots.” She could see that Dylan still wasn’t following. “When I’m going to prosecute a case, I want things to unfold in a certain way. Some people would say I’m too stringent, but to me it’s a necessity for trial. It’s why I’m successful.” She hoped it didn’t sound like she was bragging. She just wanted Dylan to understand where she was coming from. “I always require a minimum number of undercover buys. Usually three, but often more depending on how things play out.”
“That’s fair.”
“And now we’re talking about heroin. Which is great for the case. But, oof, it raises the stakes. And the risk.”
“I can handle it.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She knew Dylan was capable, but the knowledge didn’t make her role any less terrifying. “Dylan. I have watched you—literally watched you—in action. I know you’re good at your job. Even when you were putting on a show with Trish, I toughed it out and sat through it. For the case, yes, but also because I needed to know firsthand that you’d come out unscathed.”
“I still feel awful about that.”
“It’s…whatever.” Truthfully the angst she felt over the Trish situation paled in comparison to the direction the case was going. “Now the ante is upped once more, and you’ll raise the bar with Chris. I am sure you will be great, but it will destroy me.” Her chest tightened at the mere thought of Dylan engaging Paul Rafferty again. “I simply cannot be responsible for asking you to put yourself in danger over and over again.” Her voice caught in her throat. “It kills me. And I can’t bear to watch it anymore.”
“Your mind sounds made up.”
“This isn’t a whim. I’ve been wrestling with it for a while. Please tell me you understand.”
“I do.” Dylan held her hand and kissed her. “I hate it, but I get it. I know this is ridiculous, but do you think we could maybe not talk about it anymore tonight? I know it’s not really fair of me to ask. But first there was the Chris drama and now this.” Her forced laugh was loaded with stress. “It’s a lot.”
“Of course.” It would never be easy to discuss this decision. But then, there really wasn’t much to say anyway. And Dylan had taken the news about Chris in stride, even though it was clear her ego was bruised as much over the past hookup as Briana’s decision to not disclose it. “Let’s sleep,” she said, lying down next to Dylan and pulling the sheet around them.
“Funny thing.” She felt Dylan smile against her neck. “I’m not tired anymore.” Dylan’s hand caressed her belly and inched lower by degrees as she dotted a trail of kisses along her neck and shoulder.
Briana had never turned Dylan away and she wasn’t about to start now. Even though the night had been a drain both mentally and emotionally, her brain and her body were in full accord. She wanted Dylan. Now and always.
“I think I have a solution for that.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“Testing one, two, three.” Trevor looked right into Chris’s buttonhole camera and then keyed the mic on his radio. “Shawn, you copy?”
“10-4.” Shawn’s voice cracked through the portable, and Dylan straightened up as she waited for Trevor to check her equipment. They were way off the set of the Wine Bar, tacking up ten blocks south at a small car park under the FDR Drive.
Trevor stood in front of her and waved one hand in front of her belt where the recording device was camouflaged. “One-two-three-four-five. Five-four-three-two-one.” He spoke into the radio. “You got that, Shawn?”
“Five by five,” Shawn said over the air.
Trevor looked between her and Chris. “You heard him. Five by five. How are you guys feeling?”
Dylan shook out her arms and bounced on her toes. Her adrenaline was going. She was pumped and ready with just the right amount of nervous anticipation to keep her sharp. The field team was in place, strategically positioned around the location without being too close to tip anyone off. “Good,” she said.
“What about you, Chris? Any jitters?” Trevor asked.
“Nah, man. I’m cool.”
Chris stood ramrod straight, and Dylan picked up on his tension. She nudged him with her elbow.
“So, listen. I told Benji we’d be by around eight. It’s on the early side of when I usually meet up with him, but I laid it on thick that Trish has been giving me a hard time about being out.” They’d been over it dozens of times, but Dylan could tell he was anxious, and she thought rehashing the plan would ground him. “I told him I was bringing my cousin—that’s you—and said that you were interested in product. I didn’t get specific, so he’s probably assuming pills. But that’s where you’ll work your magic.”
“I’m going to follow your lead,” Chris said, “but when I see a natural opening to talk about heroin, I’m going to go for it.”
“That works.” Her strategy was helping relax him, she could tell. “I know you’ve done this before,” she continued, “but you’re new to this crew. Let me introduce you to the guys. They love to talk.” She rolled her eyes, making fun of them. “If we’re lucky, the Trish comments will open up some conversation about girls in general.”
“I can mention my girlfriend Jocelyn who lives in the Heights.”
“And then, boom.” Dylan used her hands to mimic a rocket launching. “We’re off to the races.”
“All right.” He clapped his hands and rolled his shoulders, seeming way more chill than he’d been three minutes earlier.
“You got this.” She continued her last-minute pep talk. “And hey, if it doesn’t pan out tonight, we get some oxycodone and call it a night. It’s not a loss either way.”
“You’re right. Thanks, Dylan.” His smile seemed genuine, and she hated that he was being nice. It was so much easier to detest him before she saw his human side. “I really think, though, based on the connection you’ve already established, we’re going to nail this.”
The second she and Chris entered the Wine Bar, it was game on. Benji hopped off his barstool and greeted them both with handshakes and shoulder bumps. Paul hooked them up with a new Californian vintage he was sampling. George even sought out Dylan’s take on the Yankees’ recent trades. It was like they were all buddies.
Everything else unfolded exactly according to plan. Dylan purchased painkillers, and Chris asked for an in, offering cash as he expertly segued into his desire for good heroin to offset the jones he felt for the more expensive stuff. He whined about staying with his girlfriend and how her neighborhood was dry for good H. He was suave and smooth without being pushy, but like he’d predicted, once Paul Rafferty realized they were talking about Washington Heights, he was all over it.
“That was fucking amazing.” Dylan waited until they were on the subway headed back downtown to discuss what had just occurred.
“Fuck, I know.” Chris laughed heartily before high-fiving her. He rubbed his hands together and bounced his knees. She knew it was all part of the adrenaline dump. Completing a risky operation with that level of success had an impact on the nervous system. Dylan knew it well. Right now she was happy and giddy and horny as fuck. And super bummed she’d be expected to celebrate with her team before going home to Briana.
The train rolled through the stops, and Dylan kept her excitement at bay, fidgeting and making idle small talk about the weather, New York City, the transit system, really anything but the case. C
hris followed suit, and it wasn’t until they were both safely inside the plant that she finally let her guard down.
Trevor, Shawn, Trish, and Ahmed cheered for them and clapped their backs. Even the tech team praised them for a job well done. Dylan knew she was beaming with pride as she shook hands with Sgt. Hollander and Lt. Nieves as they congratulated her.
“Great job, Detective Prescott.” Briana’s voice came from behind her, and she whipped around to see her outstretched hand. Dylan was more than stunned, but she shook Briana’s hand, resisting every urge she had to pull her close and kiss her senseless.
“Thank you.” She was curious why Briana had hung around, not that she was complaining. “We usually don’t see you here after the operation,” she said. Of course she knew the reason Briana typically bolted, but there was an audience, and she was trying to act normal.
“Special circumstances.” Dylan saw absolute love in her eyes, and it made her feel warm all over. “High stakes and all,” Briana added calmly. “Plus, I hear there’s celebratory drinks happening.” She scrunched her nose in her adorable way. “Who am I to turn down cocktails with New York’s Finest?”
“Awesome,” Dylan said. “Any idea where we’re headed?”
“Miri texted me the address of the bar—I’ll forward it to you now.”
Dylan watched her thumb out a text, and she reached for her phone to check the location.
Do you have any idea how wet I am right now?
Briana’s text was not the address of a bar, but it was a thousand times better. Dylan was instantly hard and throbbing, and probably red as all get-out. She didn’t have a clue how to appropriately respond, but there was no time anyway because Trevor was suddenly right next to her.
“Go see the tech unit and get all unplugged and downloaded. We have a quick debrief scheduled in ten minutes, and then Baxter’s.” He wagged his finger between her and Briana. “You’re both going, no excuses.”
“Yes, sir.” Dylan fanned over her body as she looked at Briana. “Let me go deal with this stuff. See you at the brief?”
“And after,” Briana said with a smile. “You heard Trevor. It’s basically an order.”
Bulletproof Page 21
