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What kind of man would Johnny have been?
I sniffed back snot, hating that I was sitting here in the dark crying about memories I couldn’t do nothing about.
All because of Ivy.
Ivy awakened feelings in me I’d had on lock-down for so long I didn’t even recognize them any longer.
Memories of my childhood made me feel weak and vulnerable — two feelings I didn’t allow any longer.
This case had me jacked up. I’d spent too long chasing a shadow that always seemed able to disappear around the corner.
The frustration building under my chest bone brought up uncomfortable similarities to what I’d gone through as a kid.
When no one was looking out for you, kids lost hope that things would ever change, leaving nothing but fear, anger and resentment in its wake.
Terano Rodrigo was laughing at me after every failure, every missed opportunity to take him down.
The man thought he was untouchable.
Which meant…someone was protecting him.
Someone who knew what our next move was going to be.
Hank thought I was paranoid for being suspicious of our own. Crooked cops weren’t a new thing. We all played fast and loose with the law sometimes. But if someone was feeding Terano information, it was likely they already knew about Ivy.
If that were true…the possibility of Ivy being in immediate danger sent a cold chill down my spine.
I couldn’t stomach the thought of Ivy getting hurt because of what I’d put in play. I was a fucking bastard for drawing her into my mess. I was no better than Frankie.
Except Frankie actually loved his sister. I guess, in some fucked up logic, Frankie had done his part to keep Ivy away from the life by staying in it.
Frankie was a mess of bad decisions and weak ethics but he’d done one thing right and that was he’d protected Ivy from getting sucked into his black hole of low-life drug dealing.
Hell, if anyone was the bad guy in this situation it was clearly me. In the beginning I hadn’t cared about collateral damage — and that’s all Ivy had been in my mind. But I fucking cared now.
I didn’t know what was happening to me but Ivy had quickly become more than just a tool to use.
I wasn’t going to say I was in love — I wasn’t so naive as to think that I deserved someone like Ivy — but there was something between us that I craved like a body needed oxygen to live.
I was going to pull Ivy from this case. Frankie got himself into his mess, not Ivy. We’d use him as bait instead.
And if Hank had anything to say about it…he could just shut the fuck up.
Jameson
The following morning I returned to Ivy’s place.
My mind was made up. I was pulling her.
But as I approached her front door, I saw something that immediately had me drawing my gun.
A splintered doorjamb and a clear bootmark marring the door.
Someone had kicked open her front door.
I pushed the door open and walked, calling her name. The silence was deafening.
Signs of a struggle were everywhere.
The coffee table was upended. The nightstand lamp was shattered.
“Shit,” I muttered as true panic began to set in. Someone had taken Ivy.
By force.
I knew in my bones it was Terano Rodrigo.
He was upping the ante and the message was pretty damn clear — you fuck with me, I take what’s yours.
I’d fucking tear him limb from limb if a hair on Ivy’s head was damaged.
Sweat beaded my brow. My Ivy was in danger.
Danger I’d put her in.
Fuck!
Now I knew for a fact we had a rat.
No one had Ivy’s address.
She hadn’t filled out an application for Chester’s — the interview had been a one-on-one with the manager only, which had been purposefully planned that way so as to leave out a paper trail.
Which meant that whoever had doled out Ivy’s address had had access to police records.
My immediate suspicion was Hank.
But I rejected it.
Hank had been my partner for two years. He’d saved my ass as many times as I’d saved his.
In all honesty, anyone with access to a department computer could be suspect.
No, narrow it down, I told myself when I began to panic all over again.
Who had access to the undercover files?
Not as many people.
Hank, myself, the captain, and the sergeant, Erika Juarez. We’d kept the circle tight for a reason.
The captain was close to retirement — there’s no way he was going to risk his pension for a little extra cash. It doesn’t make any sense for the captain to be the rat. So, scratch him.
Hank was a single guy who made more than enough money to support his lifestyle. I doubted he’d go on the take. Hank hated criminals as much as I did — it was one of the things that bonded us.
Erika Juarez was as no-nonsense as they came. She went by the book, which was why Hank and I edited our reports frequently. If she knew half the shit we did undercover, she’d have IA so far up our asses we’d be spouting penal codes like gibberish.
So that left me with…?
I swore under my breath as I made the call to Hank.
“We got problems,” I said, going straight to the point.
“What's going on?” Hank asked, his voice sleepy. “What time is it? Jesus, Jameson, this better be good.”
“Someone trashed Ivy’s place and took off with her. We definitely have a rat and when I find the fucker, I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born.”
“Calm the fuck down, it’s too early for hysterics,” Hank grumbled. “Maybe she’s just a shitty housekeeper and a slob. She could be at the grocery store or something. You don’t have to jump to the worst conclusion.”
I didn’t have time to dance around the facts. “Hank, cut the shit. Listen to me when I tell you that she’s been abducted. The doorjamb was kicked in and the place is trashed.”
Hank heard in my voice that I wasn’t messing around. “All right, all right, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ll get dressed and meet you there. What’s the address?”
I gave him the information and clicked off, my mind racing.
Each second that ticked by felt like a knife pressing deeper into my throat.
If anything happened to her…
Don’t go there.
Focus on who fucking did this.
That was the key. Find the mole. Find Ivy.
Whoever had taken Ivy had waited for me to leave. They’d been staking the place out. If I hadn’t left in a huff, they wouldn’t have taken the chance.
But I’d stormed out like a fucking baby because I hadn’t liked what she’d had to say.
Because it’d been all true.
I wasn’t used to people calling me on my own shit.
It was motherfucking humbling.
And I didn’t like it.
But it was long overdue.
The fact was, I’d been running fast and dangerous for too long. I was edging near burn-out.
What life was out there for me? I was a broken fucking crayon that didn’t quite fit right in the box or in the hand.
But a broken crayon can still color.
Ivy’s voice broke into my dark thoughts and I startled, my heart rate jumping. Since when was Ivy’s voice in my head?
But I liked it. Damn, I clung to it. I had to find her.
Hank finally showed up and when he saw the damage he whistled. “Damn, you weren’t lying. This place is trashed.”
“Whoever took her waited for me to leave,” I told him.
Hank gave me a short look. “What do you mean, leave?”
No sense in holding back details now. “I’ve been sleeping with Ivy since the start.”
“You little devil,” Hank said, chuckling as if he were proud of my deviant side. “You are something else.”
I didn’t want his admiration for doing something despicable. “Look, we gotta find her.”
“She got a cell phone?” he asked.
I remembered that Ivy kept her cell phone charged by her bed. I went to the bedroom. My heart sank when I saw it plugged in.
I returned to Hank. “Not with her.”
“I’ll call it in to the Sgt.,” Hank started but I stopped him with a look. Hank was confused. “What?”
“We have a rat. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Jameson, don’t be stupid. We have to follow protocol.”
“Since when?” I challenged. “We never follow the rules, why start now?”
“You might have a point,” he conceded. “All right, I’ll wait until after we talk to Frankie but if we hit a dead-end, we have to call it in.”
