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Ana doesn’t push me, however. She leans up and kisses me lightly on the cheek, and then stretches up to whisper in my ear. “Be safe, Daddy.”
The whispered words make me want to smile. I would if I didn’t know what was waiting for me. I watch as she slides out of the car. It’s not until I’m ten minutes down the road that I realize I didn’t walk her to her door and make sure she was safe. I’ve never felt the urge to before, but I vow that will never happen again. Ana’s mine. I’m keeping her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ana
I lean against the door when I make it inside. My emotions are all over the place. Being near Roman makes me forget what I’m really here for. That’s dangerous. It’s also extremely stupid. Roman’s a job. I’m here to find evidence on him and save my brother. It’s that simple. The rest is just static. I can’t allow it to get to me. I can’t allow Roman to get to me. After giving myself a pep talk, I start walking up the stairs to my apartment when a hand reaches out and grabs me from behind. I scream before I can stop myself and years of training takes over. I step into my attacker, deliver an elbow back into his solar plexus. I hear a male grunt and I reach behind my head and wrap my arms around my attacker’s neck, flipping him over my shoulder. He lands with a thud, groaning and still holding his stomach.
“Told you not to sneak up on her, rookie,” I hear Paul say from my left.
The adrenaline is still surging through me, but that’s when I can recognize the guy on the floor as one of the main officers who work underneath Paul.
“What the hell are you two doing here? Are you trying to blow my cover?”
“Gee, Ana, it’s not like we planned on you bringing that slime back home with you. I told you, kid, you’re skating on thin ice here.”
“Back off, Paul. I’m doing what I have to do to make sure my brother survives this shit.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” the man on the floor wheezes as he gets up. I instantly want to knock him back down.
“What do you want? You do realize Roman could be having me watched?”
“You’re safe. We’ve cleared all the security.”
“Whatever. Tell me what you did. Before we got here, Roman got a call that something had happened. He mentioned deaths. Why did he mention deaths, Paul?”
“We raided the warehouse. There were more guards there than we anticipated. They surprised a few of our men. It had to be done.”
“No, it didn’t. Why are you doing that? I thought the reason I’m undercover is so we can know what property to check into and not do stupid shit and get people killed. People like my brother!”
“I thought that was the reason you were here too, Ana. But it seems to me the reason is all about you fucking the enemy now.”
“You need to step back, Paul. I’m doing what I have to do to take care of my brother and do my job. You may not like it, but you better damn well respect me and keep your judgments to yourself,” I growl, having enough of the shit he keeps dishing out. It may be frowned on, but if I was a male officer, it wouldn’t even be a question. He’d be patting me on the back. “I am doing my job, and if you would just let me work and give me time, then maybe we wouldn’t have to kill innocent people!”
“They’re not innocent, Ana. They’re felons. Scum of the earth that supply drugs to—”
“They are human beings and one of them had a wife and a mother. Last I checked, our job was to protect and serve, not kill and leave lying and shrug it off.”
“If you’re done being on your high horse, I don’t have much time here.”
My stomach churns with the look on Paul’s face. Why had I never noticed this side of him before? Something about his whole attitude makes me feel like my skin is crawling. Something is just… off.
“Say it,” I tell him, just wanting him to leave. He hands me a small packet of white powder. I look at it like it’s a snake, one that’s about to bite me and pump my body full of poison. “What the fuck is this?”
“Coke.”
I blanch, physically jarred from his answer, even if I knew what it was. “Why are you giving this to me?” I whisper, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach only getting worse.
“You need to plant that on Anthes.”
“Plant? What are you talking about?”
“The fucking weasel keeps covering his tracks and he slips through every fucking trap we set. We get him on possession, he’ll get out, but it will give us all the ammo we need to get a judge to give the okay to take a fine-tooth comb to his businesses and anything else. It will give us time to sweep in and tear apart his business piece by piece.”
“Paul, that’s … what you’re asking me to do …”
“Before you go all moral, that’s just enough to cap him for possession. It’s enough to get our fucking foot in the door. It will save your brother. The quicker we get Anthes locked up, the quicker we can find your brother.”
“But…” I try and argue, but my tongue feeling too heavy for my mouth and refuses to form words. My heart is beating erratically and I am about two steps away from a panic attack.
“Your brother is running out of time, Ana. Do you really want to be the reason for his death?” he asks, then motions to the guy with him. They leave me standing there looking like I was just in a train wreck and holding an eight ball of coke and wondering how the fuck I got here.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ana
I jerk awake in bed and reaching for the pistol I keep under my pillow. I grab the butt of the grip, wrapping my fingers around it, when a large hand clamps down making it so I can’t move.
“Jesus Christ, Ana. You keep a gun under your fucking pillow?”
I go deathly still in the dark of my bedroom. “Roman?”
“Who the fuck else would it be getting into your bed at three in the morning?” he asks, taking the gun away from me and placing it on my nightstand.
That’s a good question. “Roman? How are you in my bed? You don’t have a key. You gave me a heart attack!”
“I could tell by the way you were about to shoot me. Motherfucker, what the hell has happened to you in the past that you sleep with a gun under your pillow?”
That’s a question I’m not about to answer. “Will you tell me how you got in?” I ask instead, my eyes following his body and enjoying the view. Roman is probably the sexiest man I’ve ever met in my life. Roman without a shirt is deadly. He might be covered up too, but shivers run through me when I realize he’s probably completely naked and in my bed.
“Pet, you’ll find there’s not much I can’t do when I want it. And I think we’ve established that I want you. Now let’s get back to the question at hand. Why do you sleep with a gun under your pillow?” he asks, and I try to ignore the distraction of a naked Roman to concentrate on our conversation.
“I’m a single woman alone in the city,” I compromise. It sounds plausible? Right?
“If I get my hands on your brother, I may choke the life out of him for leaving you in the position where you think you need a gun to protect yourself.”
I listen to him and there’s a lot to think about in that one sentence. Most of all, it sounds like he hasn’t killed my brother. Maybe it’s not him that has Allen at all. Could the informant have been wrong? On the heels of that thought is the warm feeling I get inside at the fact that Roman is concerned about me. No one ever has been, except Paul … and now I wonder if he ever really was. If we had the relationship I thought we had, would he have put me in the situation I am in right now? The Paul I had created in my mind would have never done anything underhanded.
I push thoughts of Paul out of my head. I can’t deal with that right now. I have the coke locked in a firebox under my bed. Fuck if I know what I’m going to do. As I look at Roman now and see how tired and upset he looks, pain squeezes my heart.
“You had a bad night,” I tell him. It’s not a question; the truth of it is written all over his face.
