by Amy Gamet
She writhed beneath him, desperate for every thrust, her body no longer hers alone but part of something greater. She raised her hips to meet him as her orgasm ripped through her, his cock buried to the hilt then retreating again. She stayed in that space, her pelvis tilted up to receive his thrusts as the universe exploded around her.
He came with a riotous yell, an awesome straining that showed her how good it felt. He remained inside her while their breathing settled and her heart stopped racing, then slowly began moving again. Her body was so sensitized, the small movements instantly had her on course for another climax, the rhythmic rocking setting her ablaze.
When she could speak, she whispered, “Wow.”
He rolled off her and onto his back. “Yeah.”
She moved into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his chest, and listened to the steady, strong beating of his heart. An overwhelming gratitude swept through her. Whatever role Zach was meant to play in her life, she was grateful for this moment.
She closed her eyes and drifted quickly off to sleep.
20
The morning air was thick with a cool humidity as Moto made his way down the bank toward the river. His memory of the exact location was fuzzy, the landmarks that had been important to his teenage mind making it more difficult to find the riverfront property than he had anticipated. In the end, a bar beside a railroad track had been his salvation.
The cabin, such as it was, was isolated. A vast wooded area separated the few properties that bordered the riverbed, and he walked between them on what had once been a path to the water.
He carried his trusted Sig Sauer and two knives, one at his waist and another in an ankle holster. In his pocket, hidden from view, was a pair of zip cuffs in case he needed to restrain his brother. There was no telling what awaited him here, and he was under no delusions about Ben’s motives. He’d considered asking Razorback to join him this morning, but in the end had decided against it.
Ben was his problem alone.
The cabin came into view, its awkward shape punctuated by a ten-foot tree growing out of its side. The water was loud here, rushing by just fifty yards from the cabin. He was old enough now to see the beauty his mother had seen, and as he rounded the corner of the building and his brother came into view, it struck him that his parents would not like to witness this confrontation.
Ben’s face was a mottled mess of healing bruises, and while he looked worse than the last time Moto had seen him, Moto didn’t think any of the injuries were new. “Thanks for meeting me,” Ben said.
“Where were you yesterday?”
“I got sidetracked at the closing. That’s what I needed to talk to you about. DeRegina’s man was there to sign the papers. When we were finished, he said DeRegina wanted to speak with me and I should go with him.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I couldn’t. I was in his car.”
“You could have texted me like you did last night.”
“I didn’t think about it. What’s the big deal?”
Moto shook his head. “Go on.”
“So, he took me to this hotel room, and DeRegina was there, and he’s telling me how proud he is of me and what a great job I’ve been doing for the company and that he wants me to take on more responsibility. So, I remind him about the murder charge against me, and you’re not going to believe what happens next.” Ben shook his head. “The fucker apologizes to me. He tells me his men shouldn’t have done that, and that he would take care of all the evidence against me, as long as I keep working for him.”
“It’s like a dream come true, isn’t it?”
Ben cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
Moto shrugged. “You get to keep making money hand over fist, working for your buddy DeRegina. Screw the kids who are getting addicted to meth and heroin and all the other shit he’s got seeping into the community, because you’re upward bound.”
“I came here to give you information to help take him down.”
“Oh, really?” Moto closed the distance between them, anger and disgust warring for the upper hand. “That would be great. Because we missed you yesterday while you were hanging out with your buddies, telling them all about the sting operation we had planned at the port.” He shoved Ben hard, forcing him backwards.
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You were the only one who could have, brother. It wasn’t HERO Force. It wasn’t the goddamn DEA. An agent was killed. Another lost an arm, for God’s sake. Trace and Razorback were injured. They could have been killed.”
“You’ve got it wrong. This guy has all sorts of people on the payroll. He even implied that the federal agent I’m accused of killing was actually working for him!”
“Remember that someday when you find yourself at the wrong end of a gun. Your employer has a way of killing people when the job doesn’t work out, but hey—as long as you’re doing okay right now, that’s all that matters.”
Ben shoved him back. “What the fuck is your problem? I’m trying to help you here, and you keep insinuating I’m one of the bad guys.”
Moto grabbed fistfuls of Ben’s shirt. “You disgust me.” He punched him square in the jaw. “Because of you, the shipment of drugs that was supposed to come into port last night was replaced with a load of fucking fireworks. That was our chance to get this son of a bitch, and you fucked it up for everybody.”
Ben went down, holding his jaw. “Goddamn it.” Rage flashed in his eyes and he came up swinging, connecting with Moto’s kidney and nose in a one-two punch. Moto jabbed him in the stomach, then popped him in the chin. He did a roundhouse kick, landing right in Ben’s lower back, sending him down once more.
“It wasn’t me,” Ben croaked, clearly struggling to get up. “If it wasn’t HERO Force, it had to be somebody from the DEA.”
“You don’t fucking quit.” Moto towered over him, resisting the urge to kick him while he was down. “When are you going to take some fucking responsibility?”
“There was a guy there. I didn’t recognize him. Older guy, yellow hair, blue eyes. Maybe he’s the one who warned DeRegina.”
Moto didn’t believe that for a second. He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Shit, what was his name? Tennis rackets. That’s all I can remember. His name reminded me of tennis rackets.”
Moto remembered what Razorback had said in the hospital.
I got a call from Agent Spaulding with the DEA about an hour ago. He not-so-politely told me to keep my men away from DeRegina in the future and to leave the detective work to the professionals.
He eyed his brother critically. “Was it Wilson?”
“No.”
“Spaulding?”
Ben’s eyes lit. “That’s it.”
“Son of a bitch.” Relief washed through him, tainted with a tinge of regret. He hung his head, then reached down and offered his hand to his brother.
“You’re not going to hit me?”
“No. Spaulding is a DEA agent from the sting operation yesterday. He must have warned DeRegina.” He helped Ben to a stand, then pulled out his cell phone and called Razorback, filling him in on what he’d learned.
He put his phone away and looked back at his brother, his childhood playmate, the man his parents would have wanted to be his one true friend. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Ben wiped at his bleeding lip. “You had good reason. I haven’t exactly been a stand-up guy.” He sniffed loudly. “I want to do better. Get away from DeRegina and go straight, earn my money the right way. Just you watch.”
Moto grinned, more proud of his brother in that moment than he had been in years. “I’d like to help.”
“You can start by getting me out of those murder charges. I don’t think DeRegina’s going to do it when he finds out I’m on your side.”
The men turned and headed back toward the road. Moto gestured to the shack. “You still own this place?”
“Yeah. I never did anything wi
th it. Figured I’d just hold on to it as an investment.”
“I might want to buy it from you. Build myself a house out here.”
“Are you staying?”
Was he? Sometime in the last twelve hours, it had become a distinct possibility. What was waiting for him in New York? HERO Force, of course, but that was all he had that he gave a damn about. Being close to his son outweighed that in a heartbeat, not to mention being close to Davina. “Maybe I am.”
“Half of everything is yours, remember? You can have it. Just let me keep the house. I wouldn’t want to evict your girlfriend.” Moto knew Ben was fishing for information, but he wouldn’t take the bait. He wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was growing between him and Davina.
They reached their cars, and Ben bent down to see himself in the side mirror. “Shit. How am I going to explain this to DeRegina?”
“You’re going back there?”
“I have to. I’m your eyes and ears in that office, and he needs to reschedule that shipment of drugs.” Ben smiled and got in his car. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”
Moto watched him drive away, his heart lighter than it had been in years. Ben was going to be okay, provided he could keep himself safe from DeRegina.
21
Davina had a rule for herself never to cry around Wyatt. In the difficult times, she would save up until he’d gone to bed or take a shower so he wouldn’t hear her sobs. It was hard to be a single mother, though these days, she cried far less than she had when he was little, having long since accepted that Zach wasn’t coming back.
Until now.
She’d put on a happy face while they shared a cup of coffee, then he’d gone off to meet Ben and her composure crumbled. For over an hour, she let herself go, letting all her insecurities and fears for the future overwhelm her. It was freeing. It was cathartic. It was pathetic.
Every feeling she’d ever had for the man had come back full force when they made love. If anything, she was even more enamored with the man he had become than with the boy she had fallen in love with. He was fiercely strong and protective, a true warrior fighting for what was right in this world.
What woman wouldn’t melt at his feet?
She sniffed into her coffee cup, tears running freely down her cheeks. How would she manage only seeing him once a month? He’d been home less than a week and already she wanted more than that. She wanted him in her bed every night, wanted to start every day by his side and end it in his arms. “I’m such a loser…” she whined, resting her head on the table.
The sound of the front door closing had her bolting upright. “I’m home,” singsonged Wyatt from the next room.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered, hastily wiping her swollen eyes and turning off the kitchen light. He pushed into the room, and she hoped she just looked like a slovenly, pajamaed freak, sipping coffee in the darkness of a cloudy day. “How was your sleepover?”
“Good.” He flipped on the light. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
She turned her head away. “Migraine. Can you turn that off?”
“Oh, sorry.” He did as she asked, then pulled out a chair and sat down. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Are you crying?”
She sighed. So much for that. She considered lying but already felt bad about the migraine lie. “A little.”
“Is it Zach?”
She thought of her discussion with Zach to keep their relationship separate from Wyatt’s relationship with him. It was a fine line she needed to dance. “Sort of. It’s hard having him back here, and great all at the same time. I’m glad you finally got to meet him, though.”
“If he’s bothering you, I don’t need to have him in my life.”
“Oh, no.” She reached out and took his hand. “That wasn’t what I meant. He’s your father, and he always will be. No matter what happens between him and me, that doesn’t need to affect you.”
Wyatt pulled his hand away. “Do you still care about him?”
Emotion swamped her, and her voice cracked as she answered, “Uh-huh.”
“And does he care about you?”
She stood, turning on the coffeemaker and inserting a pod. “I don’t think we should be discussing this.”
“You’re obviously upset.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon, or I would have hid it better.”
Wyatt was quiet for a minute. “I’m not a little kid anymore, mom. You don’t need to cry in the shower.”
She turned to him. “You knew about that? Why didn’t you say something?”
He shrugged. “You needed someplace to cry.”
Her eyes burned. She crossed to him and pulled him in for a hug. “You have such a good heart, Wyatt. I’m sorry if sometimes I’m an emotional wreck.”
“That’s okay. I still love you.”
She kissed the top of his head. “I still love you, too. You want a cup of coffee?”
“Does it have to be decaf?”
She let him go. “I think you’re old enough to try the real thing now.” She moved back to the coffeemaker and made him a cup. When she brought it to the table, she asked, “So, what do you think of your dad?”
“I think he’s not used to having a kid.”
She laughed. “Fair enough.”
He shrugged. “I liked when he showed me how to do stuff on the computer. I think Justin and I figured out something that might help him.”
“Yeah? That’s great. I’m not sure what time he’ll be back, though.”
“I need to look at it some more before I show him.” He sipped his coffee, looking far older to her than his ten years, then stood up. “Can I bring the computer over to Justin’s?”
“Sure.”
He walked out of the room and returned with the laptop he and Zach had been working on, and she cringed. “I thought you meant your computer.”
“No, I need this one.”
She wasn’t sure that was such a good idea but remembered Zach had said Ben had everything saved on the cloud. The hopeful look on his face persuaded her. “Be careful with it. Don’t mess anything up.”
“Thanks. Bye, Mom.”
She finished her coffee, then looked down at her tattered old bathrobe. “God, I’ve got to get out of this thing.” A shower would do her good. She stood just as the doorbell rang, and she rolled her eyes. “Fabulous.”
Making her way to the door, she tightened the belt on her robe and redid her ponytail, hoping it would hide the worst of her bed head. She opened it to find an older man she didn’t recognize, with blond hair and kind blue eyes. “Can I help you?”
“Ms. Murphy?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Agent Spaulding with the DEA. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”
“Oh, my God!”
“Ben Sato’s been injured. I’ll need you to come with me.”
22
The first thing Moto did when he caught up with HERO Force was explain everything that transpired with his brother to Razorback. “And do you believe him?” Razorback asked.
“I do.”
“You weren’t so sure at the hospital.”
“I made a mistake. I believe him now.”
“Are you willing to stake my men’s lives on that?”
He knew exactly what he was taking on, knew the importance of judging his brother’s truthfulness correctly. “Absolutely.”
Razorback nodded. “Good enough for me. Let’s hope he hears something about the shipment.” He walked back to the rest of the team, assembled around the hotel suite’s conference table. “In the meantime, I want Champion and Sloan at the docks. We need eyes and ears on the ground.”
The men nodded. Razorback checked his watch. “Logan O’Malley should be calling in any second with an update on DeRegina’s downfall in the Port of Savannah.” The phone in the center of the table started to ring. “Right on time.” He pressed a button. “Logan, yo
u’re on speaker.”
“I interviewed several DEA agents involved with the operation—“
Moto interrupted, “Anyone named Spaulding?”
“No.”
“Good, ’cause he’s a mole.”
“Anyway, you were right, Razorback. There was definitely a methamphetamine operation in addition to the opium being shipped in. But the Savannah warehouse wasn’t where they cooked it, it was just a storage facility for the components. So even though the feds raided it twice, there was nothing they could do. They had two guys undercover for over a year before they could nail down an opium shipment from the Middle East. Even then, they weren’t able to get DeRegina himself. A handful of underlings went down for the crime, but it was enough to cut off access to his distribution network and force him to find a new port to import his drugs.”
Moto shook his head. “If his name wasn’t on shit in Savannah, how much you want to bet it’s not on the operation here in Houston, either? How are we going to pin this motherfucker down and actually put him behind bars?”
“Good question,” said Logan. “Nothing I’ve learned here points to a way to do that. He was very careful to keep his hands clean.”
Razorback leaned forward in his chair. “Thanks for all your hard work on this one, Logan.”
“Any luck on Ben’s computer files?” asked Moto.
“Nothing,” said Logan.
“What’s the problem?” asked Razorback.
It was Moto who answered him. “We’re trying to find a way to prove who tampered with the file dates on Ben’s computer and planted the evidence against him. It’s easy as hell to fake a creation date, but proving it was done and who did it is a much harder task.” He eyed the men around the table. This was what he was good at, and it pained him to admit he could fail. “It might even be impossible.”
Logan signed off just as Moto’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out to find a text from Ben: The Realtor for the seller said she’d call me back at seven p.m. with a counteroffer.
