by A. R. Ford
“Mr. Carmichael, I’ve given Officer Nick every bit of information I can give him. You know what I saw. That’s all I can tell you. Two guys. Two guns. Another guy crying like a baby. Stolen money. Two shots with a silenced handgun. Now crying guy is dead. I can’t give you something that I don’t know,” I replied while pointedly ignoring his hand. “Now, if I’m not being charged with a crime, I’m leaving. I have to get back to my regular shift which starts in an hour. Of course, that’s if I have a job considering Officer Nick, and Officer Phil dragged me out of the restaurant without a chance to tell my boss what was going on.”
Nick smiled before contradicting my statement. “You came willingly, Leah.”
“I gave up after two assholes wouldn’t stop hounding me. My regular customers were afraid to sit in my section after you showed up,” I snapped. Nick was an infuriating jerk.
Officer Phil returned with another cup of coffee. “Here you go, Ms. Craig.”
“We can’t let you leave, Ms. Craig. Is it alright if I call you, Leah? You’re being placed in protective custody. I can compel you to testify if it comes to that. Security cameras on businesses facing the alley caught footage of what happened. It was grainy at best. The cameras also caught footage of you running. If we know, they know. If you leave this room and go back to work, you’ll be dead by tomorrow morning,” Mr. D. A. said with a tight smile. His eyes were cold like a shark’s eyes. It made it look like he was used to getting what he wanted, regardless of the cost. That’s what happens when you give people like Shawn Carmichael a degree in law, a fancy suit, and a job working as the fucking district attorney of a shithole like this city.
“Screw you.” I stood with arms crossed on my chest as I gave the D. A. my best fuck you glare.
Officer Nick intervened. “Could you give me a few minutes alone with Leah?”
When we were alone, Nick turned to me. His face was serious, jaw set. “Is it okay if I call you, Leah?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Leah, Leo Soranno is an evil man. If he knows you saw the execution, a hit has already been ordered. The hit man he uses is ruthless. Please, let us protect you. Putting those guys behind bars is the easiest way for you to stay alive.”
“I don’t like this,” I grumbled.
“I can understand how you feel. I’ve worked with a few witnesses in protective custody before. It’s been tough. I’ll help you any way I can.” His voice was low. It almost sounded like he was pleading with me.
“Well, I suppose I’m all yours then. I can’t wait to see the Hilton. I hear it’s snazzy,” I replied before taking a drink of coffee. I had no desire to end up like the man in the alley. But I didn’t have to be happy about the situation.
Looking back at it, I knew I was in trouble the second I walked by that alley. A cold pit of fear formed in the pit of my stomach. I wouldn’t let any of these assholes know what was going on. I had to be tough because tough is all I’ve had for most of my life. My mom was a prostitute addicted to heroin, who put drugs and whoring over me. I never knew my dad. He was probably some john she used to get money for drugs. I left the day I was old enough to support myself.
Street savvy, sarcasm, and hard work got me into a decent position in life. An honest position I earned myself. My next plan was to enroll in college, so I could be somebody, and not work at a greasy spoon the rest of my life. Of course, all that went to hell when Officer Nick, and Officer Phil showed up at the restaurant. My life was about to change. And there wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop it.
Chapter 2
Leo
“SHE GOT AWAY FROM US, boss,” Lefty whined. “We found who she was, followed her to the diner and everything. The fucking cops made it to her before we did. C’mon, give us another chance at this chick.”
I hated whining in any form, especially in the men who worked for me. And here was the whiniest bastard that ever stood near me. Bill ‘Lefty’ Hayes. I wanted to beat the shit out of him. No. I would let my most recent employee take care of that. The guy who wore a mask. The guy who gave me priceless intel. Now we knew where the safehouse was.
I took a puff from the cigar before releasing a plume of smoke. “Shut up, Lefty. I’ve heard enough excuses to last me a lifetime.”
“Mr. Soranno, we’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. Let us hit the safehouse. We won’t let you down this time,” Darian Russo requested. He stood beside Lefty with his head down, fingers interlaced.
Now this guy I could trust. Darian Russo had worked for me for the past ten years. He came on board the day after my daughter Elise was born. He had been in my home. Ate dinner at my table. Watched Elise grow up into the fine young lady she was now.
“Tell me your plan.” I let Darian have some time to think while I took another draw on the cigar. The wheels turning in his head were literally visible through the front of his skull. The same area that would be pierced by a single bullet if he didn’t come through now.
“Lefty can help me. We know where the safehouse is. We’ll hit it early in the morning when most of them are asleep. It’ll be an easy job. They won’t know what hit them,” Darian promised. “Lefty can pretend to be a lost pizza delivery driver. No one turns down free pizza, boss.”
Laughter trickled out of my mouth at his words. He was afraid of dying. I could see it in his eyes. Maybe it was his old lady that made him afraid. In my experience, men with something they love are easier to manipulate. They know the stakes are higher. And they know I didn’t give a damn. Man. Woman. Cop. Congressman. It didn’t matter who stood in my way. I would take them out. It’s how I made my way to the top.
“One more chance. That’s all I’m giving you guys. If you screw this up, don’t bother coming back. But if you get it right, I’ll pay good. How does a million bucks sound?” That’s all it took for Darian and Lefty to start drooling.
Don’t get me wrong. Money is important. But it shouldn’t be the only thing that gets a man excited. All these pathetic losers could think about was dollar signs. I wanted to get home to see my daughter before she packed up and moved into the new condominium. She needed her space. I understood that. It didn’t keep me from worrying about her, especially after everything that had happened to her.
“We won’t, Mr. Soranno,” Darian assured me. He elbowed Lefty who could only nod. Dollar sign madness. I’d seen it all before.
“Make sure you don’t. I want this girl dead before she has a chance to testify. Make it happen.”
Chapter 3
Nick
THE FIRST ORDER OF business was to check the security camera feed, and ensure Leah knew the ropes. She grew increasingly more irritable as we drove from headquarters to the safe house. I hated to lay the reality on her, but she needed to understand protective custody as well as what she could, and could not do.
“Leah, this apartment is your home for the next few weeks. Phil and I will be watching over you. Officer Mendez should arrive later this evening, which will give us a break. Let me show you to your room,” I motioned to the bedroom closest to the bathroom. The door creaked open to reveal peeling seventies wallpaper, a beat-up dresser, and a twin bed covered by a faded pink bedspread.
She rolled her eyes when I asked her to join us at the kitchen table for the next part of orientation. Seeing her eyes roll skyward made my dick twitch. Of course, it could have been the tank top she wore without a bra. Pebbled nipples pushed against the thin fabric. Christ, what is she doing to me?
“You can’t answer the door, or be near windows. You ask me, or Phil, if you need anything. We’ll make sure you get what you need. Questions?” Leah remained silently motionless after I recited the brief rules that were necessary to keep her alive.
“No questions. I need clean clothes, shampoo, deodorant, a shower, and something decent to eat.” She crossed her arms on her chest as if just becoming aware that the shirt did little to hide her nipples. “And don’t smoke in here. I hate cigarette smoke. Now, where do I sle
ep?”
“You’ve got a crappy attitude,” I replied.
“Fuck you.” Leah’s attitude was palpable.
I sighed before rubbing a hand across the beard on my chin. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for you. Phil and I would really like to keep you alive. You’re the only chance we have of putting these guys behind bars.”
“Once again, fuck you. This is all about what you, or your D.A. want, not about what I want. I feel like a cheap whore getting cheated for a blowjob. Dirty, used, and poor. Now, where do I sleep?”
Her attitude really sucked. But when I put myself in her shoes, it made sense. She was cramped up with two detectives trying to avoid death while waiting to testify against two of Leo Soranno’s goons. We yanked her from her job, and everything else that meant anything to her. I knew I would be in a crappy mood if the tables were turned. I led her to the tiny bedroom with the rickety bed. Leah flopped on the bed before I closed the door. The box springs squeaked several times.
“Great. Even if there was a chance of getting laid while I was here, I sure wouldn’t have sex on this mattress,” she muttered. I closed the door to give her some privacy to process the events of the past couple days.
It was nearly midnight before I knocked on the door, and entered without waiting for an invitation. I threw a duffel bag on the bed. “There are a few changes of clothes. Nothing fancy. Just sweatpants, T-shirts, socks, and underwear. Mendez brought the clothes for you.”
“You’re a real charmer, Officer,” Leah snapped. She stood up, dug through the bag for a change of clothes, and brushed past me.
She would continue to test my patience. Of that much I was sure. I raked fingers through my hair, and sighed. “Look, can we start over here? I know this isn’t easy for you. And call me Nick. Can I call you, Leah?”
“Sure, Nick. Thanks for acknowledging this isn’t easy. Is there anything to drink here?”
“There are some soft drinks in the fridge. That’s all we’ve got for now,” I replied.
“I’d really like something harder. Tequila, or whiskey. Getting drunk sounds like a great thing to do right now.”
I grinned. Damned if Leah wasn’t a surprise at every turn. “I’ll see what I can do about that. I’ll let you grab a shower. No one has taken a shower yet, so the hot water should last a while.”
Leah
IN SOME OTHER TIME, or place, Officer Nick and I could have had a thing. He was a drop-dead gorgeous guy with chocolate brown eyes, and black hair. The tan made his teeth look even whiter when he smiled, which was rarely. He was nearly six feet tall. Even through the jeans, a t-shirt, and bullet proof vest, I could tell he worked out. His forearms were delineated, but not in an overly muscular way. But his bossy and condescending attitude turned me off.
The shower and change of clothes did a lot to improve my mood. I wandered into the living room where Nick, Phil, and a new cop sat playing cards. “Mendez, this is Leah. Mendez will take over for us when we need to sleep,” Nick said with a nod of his head in the new guy’s direction.
I headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. The extent of food was deli ham, bread, and potato chips. I sat at the table eating while the guys played cards. Nice. Being ostracized was always a great way to make people feel like they belonged. The sandwich suddenly lost its taste. I tossed it in the trash before heading to the lonely cube that was my home now.
I curled up on the bed. Rain pelted against the windows. The sound did little to soothe the irritation brewing in my gut. Someone tapped on the door before entering the room. It was Nick again.
“Hey, everything okay in here?”
“Just peachy,” I muttered.
The bed dipped when he sat beside me. “It doesn’t sound peachy. What’s going on?”
“I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”
Nick grabbed my arm. “Don’t act like a spoiled brat. I was just checking in on you. We have to do this every now and then.”
Irritation exploded into anger. Nick and his cronies knew nothing about me. I rolled off the bed before confronting him. “I’m not a fucking brat. I’ve raised and supported myself because my prostitute mother couldn’t stop shooting heroin into her veins. I’ve been in and out of foster care most of my life. She straightened up long enough to get me back, but the needle always meant more. I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen. Now, I’ve got three fucking cops, and a power-tripping D.A. telling me I can’t leave this shit hole apartment, because testifying against two criminals is more important than my life. So, excuse the fuck out of me if I’m less than excited about this adventure. I’d appreciate it if I could have some privacy, so I can sleep, Officer.”
Nick’s eyes clouded with what I suspected might be sympathy. “I apologize, Leah. I’ll let you get some rest.”
I buried my head under the chenille bedspread once he left. I needed sleep. Maybe tomorrow I could figure this whole situation out. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Dreams of Nick naked and sweaty tormented me. I woke with a delicious ache between my thighs. What the fuck are you doing to me, Nick?
Nick
LEAH’S STORY BOTHERED me. She was a tough, beautiful woman in a bad place. I could understand her reaction to the situation after hearing her background. I’d seen it enough over the years working as a cop. Somehow, I hoped to make her feel more at ease while she was here.
Protective custody settled into a strange rhythm after a few days. Eat. Sleep. Wake up. Drink coffee. Check the perimeter, and security cameras. Repeat. Leah avoided us for the most part. I checked on her frequently during my day shift that usually ranged from seven in the morning until seven each evening. I was surprised to see the bed and dresser pushed against the wall in her room. Even more surprising, Leah was working through sit ups. Her body was covered in perspiration, brows furrowed, eyes focused on some focal point on the peeling wallpaper. The tank top she wore was held to one side by a pony tail holder. The perspiration covered abs were defined. She was lean, and sexy. It was impossible to push back the rush of arousal that filled my groin.
She paused while lying on the floor, hands behind her head. “Is there something you need?”
“Just checking on you, Leah. How many sit ups are you doing?”
“Just finished my first set of a hundred. Hoping to make it through a second set.” Without another word she found the focal point, and began working on the second set.
“Nice. What other exercises do you have planned?” It was impressive to see a woman capable of doing that many sit ups, especially with the ease and grace Leah demonstrated.
She paused after ten sit ups. “Pushups, and squats. Space is limited here, or I would do lunges. Running is what I really want to do, or kickboxing. Again, not enough space.”
“Color me impressed. Where do you usually run?”
Ten sit ups later she paused. “Lake Orion. I know most of the people who jog, or run there. Are there other questions you want answered?”
“I have some hand pads if you’d like to do some boxing. Show me what you’re made of.” Her eyes caught mine for the briefest period of time. Leah was such an exotic beauty with the high cheek bones, dusty rose lips, almond shaped eyes rimmed in thick lashes. The brown hair interspersed with golden strands was braided. This girl was all business, and I loved it.
“Nice. Let me finish up here. Do you have some athletic tape?”
“I’ll see what I can find,” I replied. I was running out of excuses to linger in the bedroom and watch while she worked out. “See you in a few.”
Leah appeared less than half an hour later. She drank a glass of water before drying her face, neck, and arms off with a towel. “I’m ready if you are, Nick. Where’s the tape?”
She taped her hands carefully while I slid the hand pads on. It was time to see if Leah was bluffing, or if she knew something about kickboxing. I was surprised when she pulled her tennis shoes and socks off. “I like being barefoot,” she said in response.
&
nbsp; The first few punches she threw at the hand pads were decent. Within minutes she sensed my rhythm, and began rapid firing punches at the pads. A few of the punches stung through the thick padding. Our session continued on past the fifteen-minute mark. Leah shocked the hell out of me when she switched things up, and began alternating kicks and punches on the hand pads. She moved with an animalistic grace that nearly made my jaw drop.
“I think that’s good for the day,” she panted. “That felt pretty damned good. Thanks, Nick.”
“Any time, Leah.” I admired her lean body and tight ass as she walked to the bathroom for a shower. This girl was a fighter, and turned me on more than any woman I’d met since the divorce. I knew it was dangerous territory. I had to keep my head on straight to keep her safe.
Distance, Nick. Distance.
Unknown
LEO SORANNO’S HEADQUARTERS were located in an old hotel in southeast Warner. I knew to visit under the cover of darkness to avoid possible detection. The usual wall of flesh guarding Soranno stood in the waiting room across from the elevators. They dared stop me before I could get close to the office door.
“You know the drill,” one linebacker-sized man said. “Gotta pat you down.”
“Or?”
“You’re not getting past us,” the other man said in my face. He stood toe-to-toe with me in a game of chicken.
A frigid smile that didn’t reach my eyes curled my lips. I punched him in the kidney, and had the barrel of my gun in his mouth before either of them could do anything to stop it.
Leo Soranno appeared in the waiting room. He took in the situation before laughing. “Ease up, boys. We’ve got a real professional here, not some nickel-and-dime pretender. Come on, take the gun out of his mouth. He’s got a wife at home, for fuck’s sake.”
The pressure of my finger on the trigger eased at Soranno’s request. I glanced at the floor to see a puddle of urine at the man’s knees. “What’s your name, boy?”