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KASEY
It’s been three days since my little meet up with Chanel, I haven't been able to get the image of her coming all over my hand out of my head. I loath to admit that I couldn’t help but suck her juices off my fingers that night, and fuck me, I can still taste her on my tongue. Instead of helping Bentley try to get a jump on everything we will need for the Jones case, I not only spent my weekend researching and going over old cases that had a card attached to them, but I have also been looking into why Owen wanted Chanel as a mole. My phone buzzes with a text.
Unknown
NSU Art Museum one hour.
Me
Who the fuck is this?
Unknown
The one person you can’t seem to find any information on.
Me
See you soon, Sin.
I pocket my phone, suddenly feeling excited at the prospect of bickering with her again. That’s our form of foreplay it seems these days and I can’t say I’m mad about it. I know I’m supposed to be gathering intel on her family, but since Owen has been so distracted with this Jones case I decided to leave her alone in the hopes she wouldn’t hate me as much as she does, but I guess time doesn’t heal all wounds. I spend the next twenty minutes trying to find anything from these cold cases that will link back to her but nothing does, Chanel and her cousins were ghosts until recently. I know who each of them are but I could never bring myself to point each of them out even when I got debriefed and they threatened to fire me. I couldn’t hurt her like that.
Benny doesn’t question me when I tell him that I’m heading out to meet with an informant, he’s too lost in trying to find a loophole to save Owen’s ass. I’ve chosen to keep my mind off that shit, what’s the point when we all know that without a warrant legally obtained that they will all go free—Marcus included. I haven’t had the gumption to call my parents and tell them what is happening. Ever since I arrested my brother, my parents haven’t looked at me the same. They knew Marcus was spiraling and into some shady shit but they never tried to help him, they channeled everything into Ashley.
I thought my dad would understand that I did what I had to do, but I was wrong, he took it the hardest. He hated that his son who followed in his footsteps like he wanted/forced me to do, had arrested the son he had pinned all his hopes and dreams on, only for Marcus to snort them away.
Pulling up out front of NSU, I park my car, then head inside. I look at the exhibits and shake my head, who the fuck has a spare fifty grand to spend on a painting that looks like a toddler painted it? One painting captures my attention, not because it’s the most expensive or because it’s bright and bold, it draws me in because of how simple it is. Every other painting is loud with colors but this one is just a painting of a single person. So many different shades of brown make up the image of the weeping woman. Something about the pain in her features resonates with me.
“The weeping woman,” Chanel says as she comes to stand by my side. I say nothing for a while as I continue to gaze at the woman. “The artist painted this for his mother. It’s his representation of her grief after her husband passed.”
“You’re suddenly into art now?” I ask as I turn to face her. She keeps her gaze on the painting as I drink in the sight of her. Fuck, she looks stunning in a pair of leather pants, knee high boots and a plain red shirt. Her brown hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun with stray strands loose across her face. Her face is free of makeup but she doesn’t need it. Chanel’s beauty is radiant and consuming without that shit.
“We’re not here to talk about me.”
“What are we doing here then, Sin?” I ask as I reach for her, but she side steps me at the last moment. Her eyes are cold and guarded as she looks up at me.
“Don’t touch me,” she grits out,
Not wanting to argue with her, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans and ask, “What do you need?”
“What is the cost of my freedom from this little deal?” She spits the word deal at me like it burnt her tongue. From the moment I made contact with her after the airfield, I told her there was a price for her freedom. Thing is, I lied to her.
“You don’t want to pay that price, Chanel.”
“Tell me what the price is,” she grits out.
“Your cousin… Give me everything you have on him and his operation and I will make sure you get immunity.” It’s a reach, I know, but I also can’t have her knowing that there is no out for her. She is too much of an asset to the Bureau to give up. She is the daughter of Carlina Murdoch, niece to the Don of the biggest mafia family in existence and if the word on the street is right, she is also the underboss to theMemento Mori. The fact she gave me a card three days ago confirms the latter.
“You give me all the evidence you have against my mother and you can haveme.” My brows draw in as I study her.
“You would spend the rest of your life behind bars?”
She shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “I’ll do whatever I have to, but just so we are clear, if you don’t hand over the evidence you have on my mother or give me an out, we won’t help you save your family.” I turn ridged as a cruel smirk graces her beautiful face.
“You touch my family and—”
“And you’ll what?” she forces out through clenched teeth. Darting forward, I grip her arms and pull her into me, my hold punishing but she doesn’t squirm. “Careful, Kacey. I would hate for these onlookers to report you.” I dart my gaze around and find that no one is paying us any attention, except for the guy across the room with a baseball cap slung low over his eyes and a phone in hand pointed at us.
“You trying to blackmail me, Sin?”
