Page 12 of Diamonds in the Mud

As if the woman knew we were talking about her, she glanced up and licked her lips at me. Isabella Sinclair, or Izzy to everyone in the Reapers, was not technically a member of the gang since they didn’t allow women to join. But she was a staple, along with Nadia Monroe and a few others who came and went. Most of them stuck close to the men they associated with.

Izzy’s bright blonde hair currently had hot pink highlights at the ends of the long tresses and was braided back on one side tight to her head. She was covered in tattoos, like most of the people in the bar, including myself.

To be honest, she wouldn’t have been my type even if I was free to play. For the whole time that I’d been stuck in Gemsville, Louisiana, Izzy had done everything she could to get my attention.

“Not my type,” I told Felix.

The man laughed. “If you’re as fucking horny as you claim, does it matter?”

“I don’t see you fucking Nadia, and everyone knows she’s been boning for you,” I pointed out.

Felix sighed and then motioned for another shot. He held up two fingers and waited. When the bartender set two shots down on the bar, Felix handed me one and tapped my glass. “I’ll stay out of your sex life if you stay the fuck out of mine.”

“Agreed,” I said before downing the shot.

After that, Felix disappeared into some dark corner while I continued to nurse the warm beer I’d been given moments after entering the bar with the rest of the gang.

What in the hell had I done to deserve to be shoved in some backwater hellhole? Two years ago I’d been in the heart of Las Vegas, and before that, I had been in LA for a year or two. That had been my first DEA gig as an undercover special agent in narcotics. That job had lifted me to the heights that I am now—senior special agent. That first sting in LA, I took down fourteen dealers, seven smugglers and runners, and three mules. Unfortunately, the kingpin coordinating more than two million dollars of cocaine and other narcotics slipping through the country had escaped my grasp. So I followed the money and ended up in Las Vegas.

It had taken me a year to snag three more runners and more than two dozen dealers, most of whom had doubled as pimps, and one smuggler who became a victim of human trafficking in the end.

After that bust, I continued to follow the trail and ended up in a small mud pit in a state I knew shit-all about. Louisiana. From my knowledge of geography, the state was only good for Mardi Gras and hurricanes. Hell, I had never even seen a real-life gator until I’d had to catch three of them as part of my initiation into the gang.

The Louisiana accent wasn’t hard for me to slip into just as long as I remembered to talk slowly. Besides, I’d been around this bunch long enough that I swore it was rubbing off on me for real. The slower pace of life was a little harder for me to adjust to. Everything in Vegas and LA had moved at light speed compared to the South.

Now, even my Supervisory Special Agent, Jasmine Thompson, joked with me whenever we connected that the South had rubbed off on me.

Though the last time I’d contacted my SSA was a little over two months before.

Hearing more glasses shatter, I glanced over in time to see a feisty long-haired brunette shove Declan up against the wall. The woman moved like lightning. Fast, hard, and with such efficiency, Declan never stood a chance.

“Try that again and you’ll be missing a hand,” the woman said smoothly.

The fact that she had the man pinned up against the wall had me smiling and, oddly, hornier than I’d been in a while.

Standing up, I made my way slowly towards the pair as I quickly assessed the woman. Five foot eight, maybe one-hundred-thirty sexy pounds, long straight dark hair with a natural tint of auburn. She was wearing black jeans that fit her firm body perfectly and a white button-up shirt covered by a leather jacket that had seen many years of wear. The worn leather-heeled boots she wore probably gave her a couple extra inches.

Declan was trying to break free of the woman’s hold. Trying and, from the looks of it, failing.

Even though Declan had almost half a foot on the woman, they probably weighed the same amount since Declan was a skinny son of a bitch.

“Now, listen up,” she continued, her tone deadly serious. “If I catch you laying so much as a finger on any woman in my town again…”—with a calculated shift of her body, she pressed her knee against Declan’s groin, and he winced in pain—“it won’t just be your ego that’s shattered.”

I was less than five feet from her when Felix gripped Declan’s shoulder and yanked him free of the woman’s hold.

To my surprise, instead of berating the woman for harming one of his men, Felix pulled Declan away and hauled him out the back door.

I didn’t know why Felix decided to retreat, but I was thankful, as I wanted to get a few moments alone with the woman.

“I’m impressed,” I said, getting the brunette’s attention.

She jerked her gaze towards me. Her dark eyes scanned me from head to toe before she turned away without a word and headed towards the bar.

Being a stupid, horny fool, I followed.

“Not really into talking?” I joked.

She stopped a few feet from the bar and narrowed her eyes at me. Damn, she was hot. Okay, so maybe the few years of celibacy had finally caught up with me.