NY State Trooper- The Complete Box Set

by Jen Talty

  “I think so,” Delaney said.

  “I’ll wait out here until you’re done changing.”

  Once she took the light, he turned his back and mentally berated himself. It was one thing to be attracted to a woman you weren’t sure you could trust, but to still have the hots for a girl who betrayed you? There was something seriously wrong with his taste in women.

  “Okay, I’m done,” she said.

  The tent was smaller than he thought, but it would protect them from the rain, and he kept telling himself the tight quarters would force her to tell him everything, if there was more to tell. As he sat on top of his sleeping bag, he stared at the blond beauty wearing a white tank top and…whatever else was covered by the sleeping bag.

  “Mind if I keep the light on?” he asked. “I have some things to do on my iPad.”

  “It’s fine.” She rolled to her side, her back to him, hugging a small pillow.

  He tried to focus on the iPad screen, but it proved impossible, especially with the way Delaney tossed, letting out a high-pitched sigh with each turn. Quickly, Josh stripped down to his boxers and slid inside the sleeping bag, before flipping the electric lamp off.

  “Does it have a dimmer?” Delaney asked with a panic-stricken voice.

  “It does.” After dimming the light, he rolled to his side and placed his hand on the nape of her neck.

  She jumped. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to help you settle down and relax.” His fingers danced across the skin on her neck, occasionally massaging. “My mother used to do this to me when I was a little boy and couldn’t fall asleep.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Mostly,” he said. “She would do this and tell me stories about my dad.”

  “What kind of stories?”

  “Things that would make me feel like I knew him.” He would listen to his mother talk for hours about his dad and his parents’ life together, and how excited his father had been when they found out they were finally going to have a child. For the majority of Josh’s childhood, the stories worked, making him feel like he actually knew his father. The photographs. The videos. It all gave him the knowledge of a father. But as he grew older, it often saddened him that his father was two-dimensional, and that his memories were not his own.

  “Will you tell me one?”

  Once his mother had died, he held onto the stories tighter, because they were her memories, and she’d loved his dad with all that she was until the day she died...and Josh loved his mother. She was his rock. His world. “My parents were high school sweethearts,” he said.

  “That’s so cute.”

  Josh laughed. “My mom dumped my dad to spend a year in Europe. She said she never once looked back, nor thought of my dad at all during her year abroad. Didn’t even try to find him when she came home and went to college.”

  Josh propped himself up on his elbow and stared at his fingers, tickling up and down her arms, across her shoulders and neck, and wondering why he couldn’t just roll over, close his eyes, and pray for sleep. “Right after my dad graduated from the State Police Academy, a friend of his asked him to be his best man. The maid of honor was my mom. That had been the first time they’d seen each other in five years, and my mom said the moment she laid eyes on him, she knew she loved him. He, on the other hand, was dating someone else. My mom, being the woman she was, didn’t act on her feelings or even tell my father she had any. Just said ‘Hello, good to see you,’ and that was it.”

  “Was the other woman at the wedding?”

  “She was,” Josh said. “Three days after the wedding, my dad shows up at my mom’s apartment with an engagement ring, telling her he’d never stopped loving her and that this time, he wasn’t going to let her go running off to Europe. They were married three months later.”

  “That’s insanely romantic.”

  “I suppose it was,” he said. His mother had always told him that when you knew someone was right for you, you just knew it. It didn’t make sense, but you felt it deep in your core. He hadn’t felt that way about Nicki. He loved the idea of Nicki, of saving her and her boys, but he’d never loved her in the way his mother described.

  But Delaney? She burrowed all the way into his core, and he was positive it was the kind of feeling his mother described, only he wasn’t willing to accept it. “Do you want me to leave the light on all night?”

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, her voice barely audible.

  “I noticed last night when you got up to use the bathroom, you left the light on. Are you afraid of the dark?”

  “I just prefer a night light.”

  “When I lived in the Bronx, there was always some kind of light shining through my window. And the noise of the train rattling the tracks as it whizzed by helped lull me to sleep. Took me a while to get used to the night sounds and how dark it could be up here.”

  “I like the crickets.” She turned her head, her eyelids fluttering open. “I’m scared.”

  His breath hitched. “Of what?”

  “Of everything. Of what my brother might be involved in. Of how easily I was manipulated by these people, whoever they are. And I’m afraid of you.”

  “Me? I’m trying to protect you, even though you tried to destroy me.”

  “Why are you doing that?”

  He rolled onto his back, putting one hand behind his head, the other still gently caressing the smooth, silky skin on the back of her hand. “Because no matter who you are to Craypo, he will kill you, and I won’t let that happen on my watch.”

  7

  The roar of the rain pelting against the tent rustled Delaney awake. Or maybe it was the man who had his arm draped around her middle, his hot, moist breath tickling the back of her neck. And of course, she had to pee, which only added to her discomfort. She had no idea how on earth she’d sneak out from under Josh’s grasp without waking him. Not to mention the issue of staying dry, as the outhouse wasn’t all that close.

  “I can hear you thinking,” Josh whispered.

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Maybe. But you’re restless and tense,” he said. “What time is it?” His warm lips brushed against her skin. He didn’t move his arm or his legs, which were tucked up behind hers as if it were normal for them to wake up this way.

  “I have no idea. Can’t even tell if it’s light outside.” She did feel safe in his arms, even though she knew he’d never be able to forgive her, much less forget how they met. Had it been a chance meeting, she would have wanted to know him, and she thought he might have felt the same way, too.

  “Then go back to sleep.”

  “I can’t,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “I need to use the outhouse.”

  “That sucks.” He rolled to his other side, giving her the opportunity to scoot out of her sleeping bag and start looking for her shoes. “It’s only five in the morning,” he said.

  “Seriously?” She rummaged through the bag Stacey had packed, but there wasn’t anything she could use as an umbrella. “It’s pouring out there.”

  “We can use these.” He held out two garbage bags. “Not great, but they should protect us a little.”

  “I can go by myself.”

  “Well, now that you’ve woken me up, I’ve got to go, too.” He flashed a grin. “Only, I could just sort of hang it out the tent flaps.”

  “That’s disgusting,” she muttered.

  He laughed. “Put the bag over your head and just run.” He handed her a small flashlight. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Once outside, she didn’t turn back to see if he followed her. Under the pitter-patter of the rain, her bladder screamed in agony, letting her know she didn’t have long before it released its own wrath.

  She fumbled with the outhouse door, holding her breath. She couldn’t think of anything grosser than an outhouse. It wasn’t just the smell, either. Making sure her skin didn’t touch the seat, she did her business, but she needed to
set the flashlight down, along with her plastic bag, to use the toilet paper. When she straightened her legs, she knocked the flashlight into the hole. It landed somewhere with a wet thud before the tiny bathroom went black.

  “Fuck,” she whispered. She hated that word. It almost never came out of her mouth, except for the occasions where she’d managed to do something stupid, like this.

  Opening the door a tad, she yelled, “Josh?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I dropped the flashlight, and I can’t find my bag to help stay dry.”

  He pulled open the door, and the yellow beam of his light landed on a garbage bag that she hoped was covered in mud, and not something else. “Well, we’ll have to share,” he said. “Where’d you drop—”

  “In a place you don’t want to go fishing.”

  “Glad I didn’t give you my phone.” He ripped apart the garbage bag, handing her one end. “Come on. Let’s go back to the tent.”

  “Don’t you have to—”

  “Being a man, and all, I don’t need to use the outhouse, so I’m all good.” He looped one arm around her waist, holding the bag with the other as they power-walked, hips occasionally bumping, back to the tent. He could be attentive and kind, even when she knew he what she’d done to him had been about the cruelest thing another person could do. His thoughtfulness tossed her emotions into a blender.

  He bent over, unzipping the tent and holding the flap open. She scooted in backward, kicking off her shoes, before slipping her legs back under the sleeping bag and sitting cross-legged. She watched Josh as he crawled in, his blond hair messy from sleep and damp from the rain, which seemed to come down faster the moment they had gotten back to the campsite. He wore a pair of shorts and no shirt, something she hadn’t noticed when she’d raced to the bathroom.

  As he climbed into his own sleeping bag, reaching across his body, she noticed a couple of scars, identical to the ones on his biceps. Without thinking, she reached out and touched one of them. “The bullets went all the way through?”

  “A couple did.”

  “Who shot you?”

  He rolled to his side, propping himself on an elbow, setting up his iPad. “Doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”

  “A woman did this?”

  He glanced up at her with an arched brow. “You don’t think a woman is capable of trying to kill someone? Funny, coming from you, considering what you had planned for me.”

  She had no retort for that statement.

  He continued to swipe and tap on his iPad while she sat there, twiddling her thumbs, wishing for a nice, tall cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin.

  The wind kicked up, shaking the tent. She shivered, though she wasn’t cold. His silence only added to her confusion, but, it gave her mind room to examine the last couple of years of her life and her brother’s actions, which, she had to admit, seemed odd.

  “Who is this man?” Josh shoved his tablet into her face. His tone had gone from level to a deep growl.

  “Where did you get that?” She reached out with shaky fingers and took the iPad, staring at a man she wished she’d never met, much less dated.

  “So, you do know him?”

  “Duh, I think that’s obvious, considering I’ve got my hand on his thigh,” she said. “That’s Kirk, my ex-boyfriend.”

  “Kirk Rossi is your ex?”

  She nodded. “How do you know his last name?” The picture had been taken in the first few weeks of their relationship, when he’d been attentive and sweet, and seemed to enjoy her shyness. He thought it was cute, and he had no problem waiting for her to be ready. That only lasted a few weeks. Why she’d stayed with him for over a year, she had no clue.

  “You know what he does for a living?”

  “Yeah. He owns the restaurant my father used to own.”

  “What?” Josh jumped to a sitting position. “Your parents used to own Esposito’s? Your dad was Anthony Esposito? You said your name was Mervis.” Josh’s brow furrowed as he drew his lips into a tight line.

  “My name is Mervis. Anthony was my stepfather. He raised me, and he’s the only father I’ve ever known.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me when I said I recognized your brother?”

  “Because it wasn’t relevant…at least, I thought it wasn’t.”

  Josh grabbed the tablet from her hands then started tapping heavily on the screen. “Okay. Esposito died a few years before my uncover assignment, so I really don’t have much on him, other than that he was gathering information… Wait, she’s… Your mother wasn’t listed as his wife?”

  “They were never married.” She swallowed. “Go back to how my father was gathering information. About what?”

  “Anthony had given information to the FBI regarding Craypo and his operation. He was willing to testify. The Feds were about to pick him up, put him a safe house, but it was too late. Anthony had been killed in a car crash, one we don’t think was an accident. We—”

  “That’s ridiculous. What on earth would my dad know about this Craypo jerk? He was a restaurant owner, not a criminal.” Delaney’s head spun as if she were on one of those rides at a carnival. Black, squiggly lines danced in her vision. She shifted her gaze between the tablet and Josh’s unforgiving glare.

  “Your father’s restaurant was used to launder money, and the basement has been used for the storage of illegal weapons.”

  She shook her head. “That’s impossible.” Mentally, she pulled up every negative memory she could of her parents. They weren’t perfect. Their family had their share of crazy, but…working for an arms dealer?

  “You’re kidding, right? You date the notorious Kirk Rossi, who uses that restaurant the same way your father did, and is also an integral part of Craypo’s organization, and you’re going to act as if this is all news to you?”

  She held up her hand. “Notorious? What the hell is he notorious for? Mediocre food?”

  “You’re really going to play dumb?”

  “I’m not playing anything!” Her heart beat so fast, she thought it could spontaneously combust. She glared at Josh.

  He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “When did you date Rossi?”

  “Right after my parents died. It lasted a year.” She shifted her gaze and pulled her braid out, twisting her hair tightly between her fingers as she held her anger in check while she tried to make sense of Josh’s words. “Why do you think my parents’ car crash wasn’t an accident?”

  Josh stopped fidgeting and stared at her with wide, angry eyes. “Your parents’ death was too convenient.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Anthony was on his way to meet the Federal Agent he’d been speaking with when his car got T-boned—”

  “We were told an eyewitness saw a man running from the car that hit my parents…” She let the words hang in the thick air. “They never caught him.”

  “We don’t think the crash killed your parents. Some inconsistencies in their injuries. The medical examiner couldn’t explain who both victims could die of strangulation. The bruising from the seat belts across their neck didn’t fit, but there was no other explanation.”

  “I know what happened to my parents. I was the one who had to identify them in the morgue.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “This is crazy.” She tugged at her hair. “My father would never be involved with criminals like that. My brother and idiot ex might be assholes, but working for the mob? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

  “It doesn’t sound crazy to me.” Josh pursed his lips, cocking his head to the side. “If my memory is correct, Anthony was muscled into working for Craypo. His restaurant was in trouble. Craypo loaned him money, putting Rossi on the inside—”

  “No.” She put her hand up. “You’re lying.”

  “Why would I lie?”

  She blinked a few times, staring at Josh, his fierce scowl pierced through her like a lightning bolt. “To get back at me?”

  He laughed.
“Yeah, right. Because protecting you from a killer is such a great form of revenge.”

  “You could be trying to hurt me.” Her stomach tightened, causing a wave a nausea. Bile smacked her tonsils. She swallowed.

  “Are you serious? I have no desire to hurt you or seek some twisted revenge. I resent what you did, and I’m pissed, but my only reason for doing anything with you is in an effort to keep us both alive. If you want to take your chances out there alone, by all means, go.” He pointed to toward the tent flap.

  Her lower lip quivered. She sucked it in, biting it, trying to keep back a guttural sob. “I suppose I could believe Kirk was involved with these people somehow, but my father? No way. He was a good man. Kind. He…” She searched her childhood memories for anything that could prove to Josh he’d been wrong about her father, but instead, her mind bristled with memories and feelings she’d spent a lifetime trying to squelch.

  Never blindly trust anyone, especially if they say they can solve all your problems. Words spoken by her father.

  Before you let anyone in, make sure you know everything there is to know. Everyone has a hidden agenda. Everyone…and remember, if it seems too good to be true, it’s very, very bad. Words spoken by her mother.

  “He was secretive about his work, wasn’t he? Never introducing you to his business associates. Telling you to stay away from the restaurant.”

  She nodded. “He didn’t like having us there. He said when he was with family, he was with family. No business allowed. Having us at Esposito’s made him feel like he had to split his time.” Anytime she or her brother mentioned the restaurant, or her brother would talk about working there, her father would wave it off, saying he wanted something better, easier, for his children. That owning a restaurant was more work sometimes than it was worth.

  “How long have you known Kirk?”

  Pulling her knees to her chest, she hugged them tightly. Her brain churned over her entire childhood, searching for answers to questions she didn’t know she’d had. “I first met him when I went to college. I wanted to surprise my father for his birthday, and I showed up at the restaurant. Kirk was there, and he flirted with me. I was stunned he would even be remotely interested in me.”