Caballo Security Box Set

by Camilla Blake

I wanted more. But this warrant…

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I said, pressing a hand against his chest.

  “Then push me away.”

  There was teasing in his voice, like he knew I was incapable of it. I tried, but I just… the desire to lose myself inside him was too great. I slid my hand back around his neck, pulling him close again so I could feel his kiss once more. I wanted to taste him, wanted to sear this moment in my memory forever. I wanted everything I could get before Chad—or someone else—took him away from me.

  “It drives me crazy when you argue with me in front of my people,” he said against my lips, talking about a slight disagreement we’d had earlier in the day when he’d wanted to go in guns blazing to take down this suspected sex trafficker and I’d told him he wouldn’t have legal backup if he did. I’d been right—until the situation had changed. And then he was right.

  “It drives me crazy,” I sighed softly, “when you think you know everything.”

  “I do know everything.”

  I laughed, unable to help myself. “You don’t have an ego the size of Texas, do you?”

  “It’s well earned.”

  “Is it now? Aren’t you the one who lost an agent today?”

  “We got her back.”

  “Because of some crazy clue she gave her partner. And then he went off half-cocked! You could have gotten everyone in some serious trouble today if that had gone differently.”

  “But it didn’t.” He brushed a hand over the side of my face. “You need to learn to trust me.”

  “Oh, you want me to follow you blindly like all these minions you have so well trained around here?” I shook my head, rubbing my nose against his. “Not likely.”

  “I don’t want you to be a minion. I love a woman with a mind of her own.”

  “Yeah?” My heart skipped a beat. “Who said anything about love?”

  “Is lust a better word?”

  Was lust a better word? I wasn’t sure. But the idea that this hot, delicious man wanted me made my heart skip again, but for a very different reason. I ran my hand down the length of his chest to his belly, reaching down just below his belt. It was a bold move I’d never tried before, but it felt right, especially when a warm, lustful spark came into his eyes.

  “Lust is a very good word.”

  “We could move this party to your place, if you’d like.”

  The idea was a wonderful one. The idea of tangling limbs with him in my cozy, queen-sized bed excited me no end. But my bag chose to slip off my shoulder at that moment, sliding down my arm, reminding me of what hid inside.

  We didn’t have time for this.

  I ducked under his arm and crossed the room, wiping my suddenly damp hands on my skirt.

  “What’s up?” he asked, leaning against the door as he watched me pace the room.

  “Nothing. I just… I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet.”

  It was a lie. I’d thought of nothing else for weeks, but I couldn’t exactly explain that I was there to arrest him in that moment, could I?

  “Maybe some other night.”

  “Maybe.”

  The truth weighed heavy on me as I watched him cross to his desk and lift his glass of whiskey, swallowing almost the entire thing in one gulp.

  “Your bosses must be happy with you today,” he commented.

  “They’re not mad.” I shrugged. It was true; they were happy to have a sex trafficker off their streets. But… “But they would have liked if everything had gone down a little differently.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You have to stop showing them up, Ox. You keep crowding in on all these cases and solving them before we can. It’s rubbing the brass wrong.”

  “We all need a little help sometimes.”

  There it was: the arrogance that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. I wanted to slap him, to make him see what he was doing. I needed him to understand how bad this was.

  “Yeah, well, you don’t want to make enemies of the people who enforce the laws around here.”

  “What’s going on, Kinsley?”

  What’s wrong? That was a loaded question!

  But now that the moment was here, I couldn’t speak. I stood there like an idiot, staring down at the toe of my shoe like the answers were all written there, if only I could see them. I heard him set his whiskey glass down again, then he was there, his hands on my waist, pulling me toward him.

  “Tell me what you’re trying so hard not to say.”

  There was amusement in his voice, like he still thought this was a game. That pissed me off.

  “You weren’t ever going to tell me, were you?”

  “What?”

  “That there’s this huge lawsuit coming against you? That there’s a group of eager lawyers looking for anything to take you down?”

  He had enough wherewithal to look somewhat ashamed. “I didn’t want to involve you in my problems.”

  “Have you told anyone? Does Skylar know? Akker? Oliver?” I demanded, my voice rising with each name. “Have you warned any of them of the storm that’s coming?”

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Ox!” I slapped his shoulder even though I really wanted to slap his face. “How could you do this? How could you put us all in this position?”

  He shook his head, shaking off my concern, my fear, like it didn’t matter. “It’s my problem,” he said, like no one else mattered at all. “I’ll deal with the fallout as it comes. Don’t worry about it.”

  He touched me, raising my jaw, like that could make it all go away. Like a kiss and promises he’d not be able to fulfill could fix everything that was about to happen. Like he didn’t understand what it would be like once he was booked into jail. Not only would there be press jumping all over this, but there would be rumors and conjecture; there would be reporters knocking down the doors to this place, chasing after everyone associated with Caballo, trying to get any information they could on the hottest gossip to hit this town in years. Like he didn’t understand that he was going to be a target in jail, both by the cops and the guards as well as the criminals, a few of whom he helped put there, others who are related to people he put there.

  “I have to worry about it,” I said, jerking away.

  I couldn’t just sit still. I began to pace again, walking the length and width of the room at a furious pace, needing to work out some of the anger and fear that was burning in my chest.

  “Did you know that one of those lawyers hired an ex-cop to do some checking on you? Did you know that he was digging into some of your father’s files?”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Do you know what he found?”

  He sighed, sitting heavily on the edge of his desk. “I have a good idea.”

  I spun around and stared at him, convinced he still wasn’t taking this seriously.

  “If you had given me a heads-up, I could have done something. I could have slowed this thing down, given you time.”

  “To do what?”

  “To hire a better lawyer! To get your own investigators on this thing!”

  “Why?” Finally, a little anger came into his voice. “I’m not going to fight something that hasn’t happened yet, and I’m not dragging people I care about into this mess. It’s bad enough that my brother and I have had to deal with all my father’s drama for all these years! My father and my mother… she let my brother go to prison for her! Doesn’t that tell you what kind of people my folks are?”

  “Then why are you letting them continue to punish you? Christ, Ox! Aren’t you going to fight for yourself?”

  “Sure. When the battle comes to me. In the meantime, I’m doing all I can to protect this company and the people who work for it.”

  It hurt me to see what was really going on here. He’d given up, decided there was no point in fighting this thing. He was cleaning up, making sure he left behind a clean house when the time came to leave it. He wasn’t protecting the one
s he cared about; he was leaving them a clean house to continue on inside of. As gallant as that seemed, it just made me sad.

  “You haven’t done enough.” I sighed, all these things that I’d thought I had plenty of time to enjoy suddenly vanishing from my heart. “You should have told me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then I wouldn’t be here with an arrest warrant in my bag.” A single tear slid down my cheek. “Because I wouldn’t be here trying to head off the detectives who wouldn’t be so kind or gentle with you. Because I wouldn’t be here trying to give you one last chance to make this right.”

  “Then it’s come?”

  My eyes widened. “You knew it would? You know what I’m here to arrest you for?”

  “I had a good idea.”

  Anger burned deep inside of me. I rushed him, threw a punch that landed on his shoulder, prepared for another, but he caught me and pulled me close against him.

  “It’s okay,” he said, stroking my hair gently.

  “It’s not okay.”

  “It is. I’m going to be okay. I’ll find a way to survive this just like everything else.”

  I looked up at him, hating the martyr he was trying to turn himself into. Tears ran down my cheeks, an indulgence I hadn’t allowed myself in a very long time. He brushed a tear away and kissed the tip of my nose, reminding me again of what we’d found together and what he was so willing to give away.

  “Do your job, detective.”

  I hesitated, but I knew if I didn’t do this, Chad Lindsay would. And that would not be pretty.

  I took a set of handcuffs from the pouch hooked to the narrow belt holding my skirt in place. As I slipped them onto his outstretched wrists—he couldn’t even put up a little fight for this!—I did my duty, emptying his pockets of everything except his wallet, placing his cell phone, keys, and change on the desk. With a heavy heart, I explained the situation in as plain of terms as possible:

  “Oxley David Winn, you’re under arrest for the murder of your father, James David Winn.”

  Chapter 2

  Kinsley

  I took Ox down in his private elevator, bypassing the security guard in the lobby by taking it straight down to the parking garage where I’d left my car. He walked in silence as we left the elevator, his head held high, his shoulders straight and broad. If I’d met him on the street, I would have assumed he was a model. He was so well-groomed that you couldn’t mistake that he had money from the second you set eyes on him. His hair was always trimmed, his face always smooth with the exception of the small bit of stubble that he allowed to grow on his jaw. He was always dressed in perfectly pressed suits, unless he was in the field, then he was often in designer jeans and plain T-shirts that looked brand-new, fresh out of the package. I once imagined he had this massive walk-in closet filled with all these brand-new clothes, most of them still bearing the tags the store placed on them.

  He had dark eyes that seemed to pierce you when he looked at you, eyes that could probably see deeper into your soul than you might want. But when they were filled with lust, or compassion, or laughter… they were beautiful eyes! I could get lost in his eyes for hours at a time. Sometimes, when others were around, it was hard to remember that I was supposed to be this tough, independent cop, not a spineless waif living and breathing only to catch a little lust in those eyes as he looked in my direction.

  And here I was, marching him off to my car, taking him to jail.

  It just didn’t seem right. I couldn’t let him lie down and allow this to happen to himself. No one knew what was happening. He’d kept everyone in the dark. If they knew, I was confident they would fight for him. I didn’t understand how he couldn’t want them to fight for him. Didn’t he want to avoid this if he could? Didn’t he want to be free to live his life? I mean… there was going to be a trial and the press and… Did he not know what kind of damage just his arrest would do to Caballo?

  “Aren’t you supposed to put me in the backseat?” he asked as I unlocked the front-passenger side of my private vehicle.

  “I can put you anywhere I please in my own car.”

  He shrugged, ducking his head as he climbed into my Ford Edge, glancing around like he’d never been in such a car before.

  “I would have imagined you’d be more into sports cars.”

  “It’s practical.”

  “Yes, well, who cares about practical when you’re driving ninety miles an hour down the highway?”

  I felt myself blush slightly. “What makes you think I do that?”

  “Because you and I are a lot alike, and I’ve been known to do it.”

  “I bet you drive a Porsche.”

  He glanced at me. “Someone told you.”

  I just shook my head. No one told me; I just assumed because it was the fanciest sports car I could think of. You could say a lot about a man like Ox. One of those things was that he liked his toys—the few he allowed himself, that was.

  I closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, hesitating for a moment after I was behind the wheel. I could feel him watching me, but I just couldn’t make myself start that car. Once we were on the road, I’d have to take him to jail. And once he was booked in jail, the wheels would be in motion.

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone? I understand you not telling me. We haven’t been that close for very long. But your brother? You know he’d do anything for you.”

  “Would he?” Ox sat up a little straighter in his seat, the chain on his cuffs rattling a little. “Oliver went through his own hell when he went to prison for our mother. I don’t want to drag him into this nightmare.”

  “Then Akker. You know this company is everything to him. Couldn’t you trust him enough to ask him to help you?”

  “I guess that’s what it is.” He glanced at me. “I don’t ask for help. Not from anyone.”

  I shook my head, so frustrated that I didn’t know what else to do. I’d argued with him, slapped him, cried for him. What else was there?

  With a heavy sigh, I leaned across him to get the seatbelt. He made a little sound as my body pressed against his, moving his face close to the side of my neck so he could take a deep breath of my scent.

  “This could be fun, you know,” he said, a suggestive smile back on his full lips.

  “If the circumstances were different.”

  I pulled the belt hard against his chest and snapped it into place, making him grunt a little. But there was still amusement in his eyes as he watched me settle back into my seat and pull my own seatbelt into place.

  I started the car, but still hesitated.

  “Did you do it? Is that why you’re giving up so easily?”

  “What? Kill my father?”

  I rested my forehead against the steering wheel for a long moment, then slowly rolled my head so that I could see him. He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he was staring out the windshield with this intense, dark, unreadable expression. For a long second, he looked like someone I didn’t know.

  Did I really want the answer to my question? What if he admitted to it? What if he had killed his father?

  I couldn’t make myself believe that. The man I knew would never hurt anyone unless they damn well deserved it. I couldn’t imagine—no matter what kind of man he was—that Ox could hurt his own father.

  I threw the car into reverse and pulled so quickly out of the parking spot that the tires squealed. As we came to the mouth of the private parking garage, emergency lights filled the narrow space. I reached over and shoved Ox’s head down under the window as I pulled into the street. I guessed Chad Lindsay’s interrogation got over.

  His car, a plain sedan with the lights in his grill flashing red, was parked at the curb. Another car, a patrol car, was parked in front of it, also with its lights flashing. I guessed Chad didn’t believe in being subtle.

  I turned in the opposite direction of the two cars, despite the fact they were pointing the way I needed to go if I was taking Ox to the jail.
>
  I had to think this over. Chad clearly had it bad for Ox, clearly wanted him to rot in jail as soon as possible for as long as possible. If I delivered Ox, there was no guarantee he’d be safe. Chad was still the lead on the case. I knew how Chad treated suspects in his cases. The man functioned just barely inside the rules, and that was when he had no personal connection to the suspects. I wasn’t sure, if he got ahold of Ox inside one of the interrogation rooms, that Ox would emerge in one piece.

  I couldn’t do this, couldn’t be responsible for placing him in Chad’s hands.

  I stepped on the gas. I knew what I was going to do now, and it definitely was not sign Ox Winn’s death certificate.

  “I thought the jail was back the other way,” Ox said after I took a left and headed toward the interstate.

  “It is.”

  “What are you doing? Are we going to stop for donuts?”

  I ignored him, concentrating on the dark roads that were surprisingly congested for this late in the evening.

  “Kinsley,” he said, his tone softened, the amusement gone, “don’t do something we’ll both regret. It’s your duty to take me in.”

  I didn’t respond, in part because I knew he was right. If my lieutenant found out what I was doing, that I had him in cuffs and didn’t bring him in, he would have my badge right there and then. After a brief investigation, the department would give me my walking papers and quietly spread the word, making it impossible for me to work in another police department anywhere.

  Being a cop was all I’d ever wanted to do. After a childhood like the one I’d endured, it was the only ray of hope sitting in the distance, a goal to work toward, a reason to survive. Now that I’d made it, I had no intention of giving it up. But… a glance at Ox and I knew this was a man worth risking everything for. He was a good man, a man who constantly put himself on the line to help strangers, to help clients who sometimes couldn’t even pay him. He would die for one of his employees, showing them a generosity someone else in his position would never show. All of this—the fact he hadn’t told anyone, the fact he was so determined to fight this alone—proved his generosity.

  I couldn’t let him go down.