Urban Justice (A Chicago Vigilantes Novel Book 2)

by India Kells

  Gently, he unhooked her fingers from his waist and helped her off. Her legs were wobbly, but she soldiered through.

  “Are you all right?” Sam knew it was a stupid question, but he wanted to know if the adrenaline rush hadn’t masked the pain of an injury.

  Apart from the two red flags on her cheeks, she was pale as a ghost, her blue eyes feverish when she finally looked at him. “Can you turn off that Batman voice? It’s creeping me out.”

  Sam had absolutely no intention of giving her any clues to his identity. “What did you learn about Phantom.”

  At least that got her attention to the point she stopped shaking. The woman was a true reporter, through and through. “How did you know about that?”

  “I asked you a question first.”

  Her frown deepened. “I’m not giving you squat until you tell me who you are.”

  Sam snarled and took a step forward. When she took a step back, he knew his words would get through to her. “Who I am is not important. Stopping Phantom’s distribution and getting rid of the monsters who’ll spread it like a disease over this city is. Now, tell me what you know. Why did you meet with Damon Evans at the El Diablo tonight?”

  And there it was, the air of defiance he’d seen in her. “I’m a reporter, not a snitch. If you don’t know how to get information on your own, maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that suit.

  Anger flared, and he pushed her hard against the brick wall behind her, not to hurt her, but enough to rattle her. Keeping his gloved hand on her sternum to hold her still, he hunched himself until he could look directly into her eyes, even though she couldn’t see his behind his mask.

  “How do you think I know about you being assigned this investigation? I know this city, and I have no doubt I’ll find the source. My only objective here is to speed up the process. Phantom will be hitting the streets soon.”

  Orla had been struggling in his grasp, but his words stopped her movements. He removed his hand, and she remained in place, deep in thought. “How do you know that?”

  She may have asked the question, but when she started pacing, Sam figured she knew he’d never give her the answer. “The police need to be informed.”

  “About what? A rumor? And if the information is solid, as soon as they make a move, the target will have changed locations. The rumor is that several labs are being built. I only have to find one, and for that, I need your help.”

  Her blond head snapped in his direction. “Stop it? How? Kill them as you killed those two guys at the bar? Or the others in that explosion?”

  Sam had no qualms with killing someone if it saved thousands of lives. “If we don’t shut them down completely, they’ll come back. And you don’t want that happening.”

  She seemed to consider his words. “Those who intend to spread Phantom on the streets deserve to die in my book, but that’s not how the police will see it. I won’t be part of a hit if that’s what you’re planning.”

  He could go harder on her, but he suspected it would only strengthen her position. Instead, he returned to his bike. If she wouldn’t help, he wasn’t going to waste any more time on her, even for her breathtaking face and enticing ass.

  “Wait!” He turned slightly to look at her. He could see wheels were turning hard and fast in that smart brain of hers, and he waited for her to speak. “Let’s work together on this. Tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you what I discover.”

  Sam smiled behind his mask at her guts as he got on his bike and started the engine with a roar. “No. I won’t put anyone else in danger.”

  Orla took another step. “You’re already working with someone. You were in contact with them, and they helped us escape. I think you need my help with this, and I need you.”

  Sam shook his head. He knew he’d be able to get to the bottom of this on his own; he’d done so many times before. The only difference here was the time constraint. If he could get information from her to close this faster, he would. But he wasn’t dumb enough not to realize she had another motive for her sudden generosity. After all, she was a journalist.

  “It’s the middle of the night, and you have nothing yet. Damon Evans didn’t have time to tell you anything useful. You have squat, so unless you can miraculously come up with new information, there’s no reason for us to work together.”

  The woman gasped, clearly taken aback by this bit of information, but Orla Karlsen wasn’t the kind of person to quit easily. “I’ll get the information. How can I contact you?”

  Sam took one last look at her. “You don’t. If you find anything worth my time, I’ll find you.”

  Read Night Justice

  Sneak Peek: Lost Bastard

  Book one of the Dark Sparrow Series

  Read about Deva and Aleksei

  https://books2read.com/u/mBO2BR

  It seemed that survival instinct never died. As she pushed the stop button on her machine and shut down her mp3 player, only silence surrounded her, but she wasn’t fooled. For the last two weeks, Deva had trained at night after work and never felt discomfort or unease. The reason she felt it now meant she was about to become prey and she’d be dammed it if she’d ever be that again.

  Forcing herself to get her breathing under control, she looked around both for the threat, and anything she could use as a weapon. When she left her father and his crew, she had taken extensive self-defense training with Beatrice and her husband, helping to get her footing back, and she hadn’t ceased training ever since.

  As she moved silently across the mat, she took one of the bamboo sticks used for agility training. It wouldn’t inflict much damage, but she knew how to use it and where to hit to inflict enough pain to distract whoever was lurking inside the gym. It may not be enough against a firearm, but she felt more secure with something in her hand.

  The greater space of the gym was empty, and there was no light in any of the offices, except in her workspace where she had left one of her ambient lamps on. Deva hesitated before entering. It was a dead end, and if someone had broken into the gym, she would be trapped. But her phone was in her bag, and she needed it.

  “You can come in. I won’t eat you up unless you want me to.”

  Deva didn’t recognize the voice but detected the Russian accent. Aleksei. Leaving the stick outside the door, just in case, she let out a steadying exhale before entering the room. The Russian fighter, still in a fitted black t-shirt and black tech pants, was sitting on her massage table, a fucking grin on his gorgeous, rugged face. His liquid silver eyes danced with mischief. His tattooed arms flexed as he gripped the table’s edge, drawing attention to his body.

  “Hell, Voronov! Why are you trying to scare me?”

  And the cad simply smiled, lifting his hands in capitulation. “I didn’t want to scare you, Deva. But I had left my phone in the locker room and just came back to get it.”

  “The front door was locked.”

  “It’s only a lock, Deva. Something that can be opened easily by someone with skills, don’t you think?”

  The way he said her name, lingering with a deep rumble, heat pooled between her legs. Deva hated her reaction to him as much as she understood it. Sometimes the body had ways of making its needs known.

  “And this is not the locker room. You are in my personal space, sitting on my worktable.”

  “Da. I see you have excellent eyes. And when I returned, and you were still here, I thought it was the perfect moment to ask you for a... treatment.”

  Deva knew better and crossed her arms. “I’m off the clock, and I don’t offer the ‘services’ you are clearly asking me for.”

  Something flashed in his fascinating eyes before his face closed off. “I know what you do here, and I’m not looking for a whore. I have no interest in that. I’ve never paid for sex in my life.”

  And Deva was convinced it was true. With his muscled body and the charisma around him like a magnet, there was no way a sane woman would say no to him.

  “So, what do you need, Mr
. Voronov?”

  His stance calmed at her question, and a smile returned to his lips. “Please, call me Aleksei. I decided to jog back here, but I started to feel a slight pain above the right knee. At first, I thought it would calm down once my body had warmed up, but instead, it increased.”

  Was it an elaborate lie or the truth? Even if she had her suspicions, the therapist in her decided to check it out. She crouched in front of him and started to unfasten the side of the pants from the ankle up to two snaps above the right knee. There again, was more ink. Crouching in front of him, she started to run her fingers on each side of the joint, pressing to detect anything unusual. “Does that hurt?”

  “No.” And he wasn’t lying; his breathing was deep and slow.

  As a comparative, she unfastened his left leg and ran her fingers against the joint. Aleksei remained still as a statue, only answering her questions with a yes or no. When she returned and touched just below his right knee, she felt him tense in anticipation. “Does that hurt?”

  “No.” And she had guessed right. Gently, she let her fingertips glide over his knee, feather-light. Continuing her examination, she didn’t detect any edema or inflammation, but some tension. A few inches past the problematic area, she pressed harder on the thigh muscle, and the man jerked.

  “Did it hurt?” Same question, but this time he hesitated.

  “It’s a kind of ache, but there’s no pain.”

  As she suspected, she got back on her feet. “Lie down.”

  “I don’t need to lie down for you to treat knee pain.”

  Crossing her arms, Deva looked at the man who was annoying her, and more. “Your knee is okay so far, but the tension in the thigh muscle is pulling too much on it. If you don’t relieve some of the tension, it can impact your tendons and then provoke knee pain. It seems to be a common pain with you fighters, along with shoulders and lower back pain. With you sitting like that, it doesn’t give me proper access.”

  “Access?” Aleksei arched a brow as if he didn’t understand the sentence.

  “Do you want me to help you? Because I’m too tired to play games. If you don’t, I’ll close up here and go take a shower at home and eat.” She knew she had an opening, the first and maybe only one, and by playing hard, she may lose it. However, acting out of character would be a dead giveaway.

  The man’s eyes darkened into a storm of gray clouds, his jaw tight as he debated.

  “And if I don’t trust you. You’ll have the upper hand, with me lying on my back.”

  “I won’t threaten your virtue, fighter. And it’s a question of trust, isn’t it? What if I have a blade in my boot or poison in my massage oil?”

  His jaw tightened more, and he swallowed before relaxing again and shifting to sit and then lie on his back, his eyes never leaving hers. “Do your worst.”

  It was a strange sensation to have a man under her hands that she knew was dangerous and represented everything she despised, and yet, she still trusted him despite his power and strength. He may be docile at the moment, but he could turn on her suddenly. Deva fed on his power, giving her the edge, she needed to continue, steadying her in the process.

  Without a word, ignoring his focus on her, she started removing his running shoes and socks, one foot, then the other. Then, Deva grabbed a sling with her oil bottle as well as two other containers and moved to Aleksei’s side. Without waiting for his permission, she finished opening his pants, one side, and then, the other. And as she suspected, he had running boxer briefs underneath. She folded the top half of the pants and put it on the small side bench. And as the black brief ran on the longer side over the leg, she pushed it up some more. His hips shifted slightly, but she didn’t dare look up at his face. Deva was glad that the heat rising to her face could be cleverly hidden by her recent run and the dim ambient lights. Her skin had always been pale, color rising quickly to her cheeks, revealing her emotions too much.

  Ignoring her own restlessness, she pumped oil into her hands, warming it a bit before gliding her palms against the adorned expanse of skin and muscle. Adding pressure ever so slowly, she contoured the tense muscle repeatedly, following it onto the knee. Satisfied with its reaction, Deva worked on the upper part of the thigh, inching higher and higher, even working her fingers underneath the leg of the boxer briefs. Aleksei inhaled sharply but didn’t comment. It wasn’t necessary; his body gave her all the proof she needed; his cock pushing hard against the dark fabric of his underwear. Her professionalism winced at what she was about to do, but she was very curious about how much she could push her luck. After all, Gabrielle, Lazarus, and Beatrice wanted her to establish a relationship with the man. Here was an opportunity to be friendly, and their connection was burning too hot to be on the friendly side. Only one option remained.

  “Remove your underwear.”

  It was pure pleasure for Deva to see him blink. It was obvious he hadn’t been stunned often but Aleksei recovered quickly as his wicked grin reappeared with a vengeance. So, it seemed he hadn’t expected his appointment to be completely professional.

  “Well, I see you have changed your mind.”

  “Not at all, your thigh muscle is connected to your hip, and I need access, your briefs are in the way. If you are shy, Mr. Voronov, let me get you a sheet to cover yourself up. I must have a small one perfect for you somewhere.”

  When she sidestepped as if to go and get one, a strong hand closed around her wrist. Turning back to him, Aleksei’s eyes were on her, heat replacing sarcasm. Letting go of her, and never breaking eye contact, he swiftly removed and tossed away his t-shirt and boxers, offering an unencumbered view of his naked form.

  There he was, gloriously naked, a woman’s wet dream, well, hers at least. And he was a big man. His cock hardened under her stare, bobbing toward his abs, darkening as she detailed its texture and veins. And she wasn’t the only one affected. Aleksei was breathing harder, his body tensing, showing his ripped, quivering muscles on display. What she admired almost as much as his cock, was the level of restraint. He could have reached for her, pulled at her clothing, but he didn’t. He lay there, rigid, staring.

  Deva let her eyes drag over him, detailing his ink and his skin, until she reached his eyes, a gray so dark now, the same color of the clouds just before the first cracks of lightning. Mechanically, her hands returned to his knee, and she heard him hiss and speak words she didn’t understand.

  Back to the task at hand, she focused on the muscle, repeating the same pattern as before, but with longer strokes toward his lower belly and hip. As her hands teased close to the junction of his thighs, he parted them slowly, offering a clear view of his sack. A silent plea she would ignore for now, as she did her own ache between her legs. When her hand splayed on his hip, he bowed slightly, and it took everything in her to ask him if he was in pain. But in the end, she couldn’t resist.

  “Da, I’m in pain. But not where you are touching me.”

  Breathless, Deva continued her massage. Forcing groans from him, the pressure of her fingers working on his tense muscle. As the touch was less sensual, she saw his member deflating a bit. It took a while for her to be satisfied with her work, and was glad to see a mist covering his delectable skin. At least, she wasn’t the only one who had to work for it.

  “On your left side, please.”

  Without a word he complied, and in this position, she could leisurely ogle his admirable backside. Her hands worked tirelessly on his lower back, hip and lower abdomen until the problematic muscle softened, and something rather rigid touched her wrist. Did she dare to touch him now? Or not?

  Oiling her hands once more, Deva bypassed finesse and grabbed his throbbing member in her warm, slippery hand.

  The sound coming from Aleksei made her clit throb in desperation, so much so that she squeezed her thighs together hard, trying to alleviate the intensity of the sensation. Leaning her mound against the table, she rocked, seeking pressure, as her hand fisted him, exploring the texture of his skin,
the tremors and trembling, the increased pumping of blood. She didn’t increase the pressure or pace, simply stroking him at the same time she pressed against the table, her other hand keeping her upright.

  Aleksei didn’t touch her, his hands closed into tight fists, his eyelids drooping as pleasure took over his body. When she twisted her wrist, his hands gripped the table, his breath wheezing through his clenched teeth. Seeing him at her mercy, Deva reveled in her domination until the fighter on her table seized her hand and changed the tempo. His grip on her hand tightened, and he made her accelerate until Deva thought the movement must have caused some pain. He released her and closed his eyes, silently ordering her to continue at the same strength and speed.

  “God woman, I knew you would be talented with that type of service.”

  Lust vanished in a matter of seconds at his words. For an instant, she had lost control and had been reminded why she should never allow it with this kind of man.

  Deva opened her fingers at what must have been seconds before his release. The most painful moment in her opinion. Bereft, Aleksei looked at her as if lost and confused. Wiping her hand with a towel, she turned and threw it at his crotch with force. With anger burning clean her desire, she grabbed her bag and clothes and turned just before going out the door.

  “You just can’t shut the fuck up, can you? That being the case, I’ll let you finish by yourself. Clean up after yourself.”

  And she was gone.

  Read Lost Bastard

  Sneak Peek: To Fool an Assassin

  Book one of the Women of Purgatory Series

  Read about Gabrielle and Sullivan

  https://books2read.com/u/4DlkGg

  Johannesburg, South Africa

  The throbbing in his head and side didn’t lessen. Probably because of being in a cell for so long or, almost certainly, caused by the latest beating he received from his captors.