The Smuggler

by Leslie Georgeson

  “We have to stop her,” I whispered, bringing everyone’s attention to me. “We can’t let her hurt any more people. There’s no telling who she’s after next.”

  Tony and Nate exchanged another long glance, then Tony said, “We may need all the dregs for this one. The Black Dragons are dangerous.”

  Nate nodded. “I’ll call Tracker and Jacob and see if they can come help. Tracker might be able to help us locate Darcy. And Jacob’s fighting skills will come in handy big time.” He pulled out his phone and walked off into the trees. Alissa followed after Nate.

  Leaving me alone with Tony.

  We stared at each other for a moment before Tony said, “I want to tell you to go someplace safe while we deal with Darcy. But I know you’ll refuse.”

  I lifted my chin. “Feck right, I will. I’m not leaving you, Tony. I can help take her down.”

  “I know.” He heaved out a sigh. “I’m still trying to get over almost losing you the last time. I can’t let anything happen to you, Grace. I can’t fucking watch you die.” He trailed off, lowering his voice on the last few words.

  I looked into his eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I belong beside you. You know that. We’re a team. If you haven’t figured that out yet, then you need to be smacked up side of your feckin head. When one of us has a fight, the other stands beside us to battle it out. Right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Right?” I repeated, more loudly.

  He turned his head away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Yeah.”

  I understood his concern. But I wasn’t backing down. No one was telling me what to do. If I wanted to help catch Darcy, I would, and no one would stop me. Tony was going to have to accept that. He couldn’t control me. He should know that by now.

  “I understand your fear,” I said gently. “When you were injured that night in Atlanta, I was worried sick that you would die. And I’m worried now that something might happen to you. But I can’t let that fear stop me. I can’t let it take hold. Because I love you. And I believe in you. I believe in us. You have to let me help, Tony. Because if you think for one moment that I’m going to let you control me, then you’re an eejit.”

  He swung his head toward me. “I don’t want to control you, Grace. I just want you safe. I want you alive.”

  “I will be safe. I’m a cop, remember? I can help the dregs take her down.”

  I grabbed his hand, pulling on his arm, urging him toward me. Reluctantly, he stepped into my arms. I held him tightly for a long moment, trying to reassure him with a hug. With comfort. Words weren’t always enough. Especially with a stubborn man like Tony.

  After a moment, he lifted his arms and hugged me back. He was getting better with touching. It was turning out to be a long process, but I wouldn’t give up on him. The more I touched him, the less he resisted.

  Then my phone buzzed, and we jolted apart. I fished it from my pocket and swiped the screen. Social Services. I wasn’t on duty right now. Something urgent must have come up.

  I answered cautiously. “This is Officer Murphy.”

  “Hi Grace. This is Kim from Social Services.”

  I tensed, recalling the last time I’d gotten a call from “social services”. Except I actually did know Kim. She was legit.

  “Hi Kim. How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you, and I hope you are recovering well. Sorry to call you so late. We have an urgent situation. A child that needs immediate placement. The foster family he was with ended up not working out. A bullying situation—not by him. He was the victim. Poor thing. Two older boys knocked him around a bit. Anyway, I had to go to the home a few hours ago to retrieve him. I’ve called around, but no one has been able to take him. I hear you’re out of the hospital now, and I know this is bad timing, but I was hoping you might be able to take this boy.”

  This was bad timing. We needed to hunt Darcy down. But I couldn’t turn away a child in need. “What’s his background?”

  “Eight-year-old Hispanic child. Bilingual. Parents were arrested in a meth bust a few weeks ago.”

  I gasped. “Antonio?” I had wondered about the boy over the past weeks, hoping he went to a good foster home. He was bilingual? I’d assumed he only spoke Spanish, but the poor child had been so terrified that night that maybe he’d just been too afraid to speak English.

  “You know him?” Kim asked.

  “Yes. I was the one who found him underneath the porch.”

  “Oh,” she murmured. “I never did read the entire police report. Anyway, can you take him?”

  I felt Tony move up behind me and guessed he’d overheard the conversation.

  “I’ll take him. But I’m going to need a couple more days. I’m not at home right now.” And I needed to help catch Darcy first. Then, I’d gladly take little Antonio in. It was too dangerous to bring a child into my life right now. After we dealt with Darcy, then it would be no problem.

  Kim let out a soft squeal. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! After what happened with Teresa and Camille, I was afraid to call you, that you wouldn’t want to take in any more kids.”

  “What happened with Teresa and Camille was definitely tragic,” I admitted. “But I will never turn down a child in need.” I had learned that the girls had been abducted from the library the night they’d disappeared. Both girls were doing well now, and I planned to visit them again once this nightmare with Darcy and The Company was over.

  “You’re a lifesaver, Grace. A good soul. I’ll keep him with me until you’re ready to take him. When do you think that will be?”

  “Um…a week?” Certainly that would be enough time to deal with Darcy and get settled back into my apartment. “Maybe sooner. If so, I’ll let you know.”

  Kim thanked me again and we disconnected.

  “You’re taking that kid? The one from underneath the porch?”

  I turned and met Tony’s gaze. “I am.”

  Something indescribable flickered in his eyes. Then he gave a decisive nod. “Of course, you are.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “Your reason for fostering kids is about more than just your weakness for orphaned kids, isn’t it?” There was a deep understanding in his eyes, a knowing look that said he’d figured me out.

  I decided to come clean. “Yes.”

  He stepped closer, his gaze burrowing deeply into mine. “Tell me.” He lifted his hands to my upper arms, gently squeezing. The fact that he was touching me, willingly and on his own, was so shocking that it was a moment before I could gather my words.

  “I can’t have kids,” I blurted. Emotion rose up my throat, choking off anything else I might have said. And I so, so would have loved to have them with you.

  Before he could respond, Nate and Alissa returned.

  Tony slowly stepped back, his arms falling to his sides, and reluctantly turned to Nate.

  “Tracker and Jacob will be here in two or three days,” Nate informed. “They’re riding together and taking turns driving so the other can sleep. As soon as they get here, we can go after Darcy.”

  At that moment, my phone chimed a new text. I swiped the screen.

  Riley.

  A felon just walked in. Fifteen grand bounty. What to come get him?

  Riley always kept a lookout for wanted felons for me. In exchange, I gave him a finder’s fee whenever he alerted me to a criminal that I ended up apprehending.

  Going on a bounty hunt would help pass the time while we waited for Tracker and Jacob.

  I glanced at Tony. “What to go on a bounty hunt with me? Help me apprehend a criminal?”

  His gaze perked up, his eyes lighting with interest. “Fuck, yeah. I could use some action.”

  Nate chuckled. “We’re going below. See you guys later. Be safe out there.”

  Alissa squeezed my arm, then they headed back into the maze.

  Tony glanced back at me, his eyes gleaming with an anticipation that made me chuckle. “You ready, bounty babe?”

  I choked out a la
ugh. Tony had a sense of humor? A wave of happiness washed over me. This was going to be fun.

  “I am, stud muffin. Let’s go catch a criminal.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Tony

  Five minutes later, Grace and I were heading through the woods toward Eatonton in my Ferrari. I had spent the past several hours making love with this woman. And I was nowhere near done with her. When we returned, I planned to drag her back into my bed for another go round.

  My heart swelled every time I reminded myself that she loved me. Me. She actually loved me. It didn’t seem possible. But it was true.

  And fuck, I loved her, too. Someday I would tell her that. When I could get the dreaded “L” word to come out of my mouth. Until then, I hoped I could show her how I felt. By making love to her. Again and again. Doing things for her, and with her. Like this mission we were heading out on. A bounty hunt. I had a feeling I was going to enjoy this outing with her.

  Not more than ten minutes ago, Grace had admitted to me that she couldn’t have children. This obviously devastated her. It explained her need to foster other people’s children. This said so much about her. And it endeared her to me even more. Grace’s kindness, her generosity toward others, knew no bounds. She was so selfless and giving. If I wanted to have a future with her, I would likely have to be a part of foster parenting as well. Surprisingly, the idea didn’t bother me in the least. I kind of liked the idea of being a father figure to a kid who either didn’t have a parent, or whose parent wasn’t able to take care of him or her for some reason or another. I would probably have to clean my language up a bit. But I think I could handle it.

  Sitting with little Antonio a few weeks ago, showing him card tricks, had been a pleasantly enjoyable experience. I had felt needed. Useful. The kid had idolized me. If Grace took him in, I would get to spend more time with him. Bonding. Being a father figure. I was actually looking forward to it. Antonio and I shared more than just a name and a Hispanic heritage. We both liked magic, as well.

  Grace and I were silent on the drive, each lost in our own thoughts. The silence was comfortable, relaxing. It felt good just being in her presence. She soothed me. Made me feel good about myself. She helped heal me, and she pushed the tortured souls far, far back where they couldn’t disturb me. This thing between us was new and exciting, and if I thought about it too hard, it became a little overwhelming. I turned the music on to distract myself from thinking too hard, glancing askance at Grace. She turned her head and smiled at me. And I found myself automatically smiling back, before returning my attention to the road ahead. Right now, life was good. Grace made me happy. She made me look forward to the future.

  I’ll admit I was curious to see Grace in cop mode as she apprehended a felon. I would assist her if needed, but otherwise I would stay out of her way and let her do her thing. She’d already proven she knew how to handle herself. The woman was amazing.

  We reached Riley’s bar and pulled into the lot.

  Grace’s phone chimed with a new text and she swiped the screen.

  “Riley said the felon just left the bar.”

  Grace and I both scanned the lot, searching for him. I motioned to a large, tattooed man a few car’s away who was opening the door of a blue Ford truck. “That him?”

  She nodded. “Looks like him. Let’s follow him. See where he goes. Maybe we can apprehend him at his home.”

  I waited while the man drove the truck out of the parking lot, then we followed him out onto the main road, staying back so we didn’t alert him to our presence.

  Five minutes later, he drove into a trailer park and stopped the truck in front of a white, single-wide trailer. I pulled over a few trailers down, turning off the car and waiting.

  Grace removed her gun and a set of handcuffs from her purse. She slipped the handcuffs in the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll knock on the front door,” she said. “If he answers, I’ll state why I’m here. If he flees—which is highly probable—then I will have to give chase. That’s when I may need you.”

  “You got it. Tell me what to do, bounty babe, and I’ll do it.”

  She snorted, her gaze filling with laughter. “Stop calling me that, or I’ll just keep calling you my stud muffin.”

  I chuckled softly. I kind of liked being her stud muffin. The definition of stud was “a sexually active or virile young man”, and with her, that’s exactly what I was. She made me feel sexy. Studly. Virile.

  She leaned across the car and kissed me. “You can be my partner, stud muffin. Let me take charge, but if he flees, I want you to help tackle him for me and hold him while I cuff him.”

  I nodded, kissing her back. “Let’s go, bounty babe.”

  She snickered and opened her door.

  Moments later, we were at the front door of the white trailer house. Grace knocked on the door.

  We waited.

  The blinds flipped up and the man peered out at us. Grace lifted her arm in a wave. “Hi!” she called. “We’re looking for Mark Williams.”

  The blinds fluttered closed. Moments later, the sound of the back door slamming reached out ears.

  “He’s fleeing,” Grace whispered. “That arsehole. Hurry, around back!”

  We raced around the side of the house in time to see the man fleeing onto the dairy farm behind the trailer park, heading into a field full of black and white cows.

  Grace glanced at me as we reached the fence and slid through the wooden rails. “You’re bound to get cow shit on your shoes if you continue forward. That okay with you?”

  I shrugged. “Shit washes off. And your felon is getting away.”

  She jerked to attention and headed across the field without waiting to see if I’d follow. I did. I caught up with her easily.

  We found the crook several minutes later, huddled down behind a haystack, breathing heavily. He lifted a gun, pointing it at us. I instinctively tackled Grace, knocking her to the ground.

  A bullet whizzed past us. Grace shoved me off her and dived into a crouch behind the hay. “I said you could tackle the felon, not me.”

  Laughter bubbled up my throat. I’d laughed more tonight than I had my entire live. Fuck, she was good for me. I felt lighter, freer when I was with her. I just felt…good.

  “I’ll go around the other side of the haystack,” I told her. “If you haven’t apprehended him by the time I reach him, I’ll take him down.”

  “No shooting,” she called softly. “We’re just taking him in so we can collect the bounty.”

  I nodded. “Sure thing, bounty babe.”

  Her soft chuckle followed me as I moved around the haystack and came up behind the crouching man. He spun toward me, firing off a shot that lodged into the hay next to me. While he was distracted by me, Grace attacked him from behind.

  She had the man on the ground and his arms behind his back before I even reached him. “Ouch!” he wailed. “My arms don’t bend that far! You’re hurting me!”

  “Why did you run?” Grace demanded. “You big wuss.”

  “I don't want to go to jail. Please, I have a kid.”

  I chuckled, staring down at them. “You need any help there, bounty babe?”

  Grace grinned up at me. “No. I got this. Thanks, stud muffin.”

  I laughed. And damn, it felt good. All this laughing.

  Grace finished handcuffing the man and I grabbed one of his arms while she grabbed the other, and together we hauled him to his feet. “Thanks.” She smiled up at me. “We make a great team.”

  “We certainly do.”

  “You can’t lock me up,” the man protested. “Please. My daughter will be all alone without me. She has no one else.”

  Grace sobered instantly. “Where is your child?”

  “Back at my house,” he mumbled.

  The concern in Grace’s eyes changed to disgust. “You left a child alone while you ran from us? What kind of father does that?”

  I gave him another none-too-gentle shove forward. “Yeah,
man. What kind of father leaves his kid alone?”

  “I don’t want to go to jail,” he wailed. “Please. CPS will take her away from me.”

  Grace snorted. “With good reason. What was your warrant for?”

  He hung his head. “Failure to show up at my arraignment hearing.”

  “And what crime did you commit that you were so afraid to show up for your arraignment?”

  “Possession of illegal substances. I was going to sell it, not use it. We needed money for food.” His words were defensive.

  Grace shook her head. “If you were so hungry, then why were you at the bar drinking?”

  “I wasn’t drinking. I was there to sell some pot.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “So you left your daughter home alone while you went to the bar to sell pot?” Grace demanded. “What kind of eejit are you?”

  “She was asleep the whole time,” he grumbled.

  We reached the fence separating the dairy from the trailer park. Grace helped the man climb through while I stood back and shook my head. He’d left his kid at home in bed while he went to the bar to sell pot? He didn’t deserve to be a father.

  “I’ll make sure your little girl is taken care of,” Grace assured the man as we reached his trailer. “I promise no harm will come to her.”

  Grace called the station and requested an officer to come retrieve the felon. Then she called CPS and asked them to come pick up the child. She left me outside with the man while she went in to check on the little girl.

  She returned several minutes later, holding the small child in her arms.

  My heart pinched at the sight. The kid couldn’t be any more than three or four years old.

  Grace sat on the porch with the little girl, cradling her in her lap while we waited for the CPS officer to arrive. The father sobbed quietly the entire time, saying he was sorry and would never do it again. If Grace would just let him go, he promised to be a better father.

  “You need to deal with your punishment, do your time, then come and take care of your daughter. If you do everything you’re supposed to, then you might get a chance to raise her right.”