“How about you tell me why you took your shirt off to reveal this ‘work of art?’ Or do you always strip off in front of your employees? Actually, you know what, don’t answer that question.”
“I’ll have you know, I’ve never slept with any of my employees.”
“Really?”
“Well, I’ve never knowingly slept with any of my employees. We hire a lot of people and I’ve slept with a lot of--”
“Alright, how about we get to the point?”
I couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t like it when I talked about other women. Okay, so I didn’t like it when she talked about other men either, but at least we were on an equal footing this way.
I turned my back to Chloe and told her to look at my lower back.
“It’s a tattoo of a skull,” Chloe said, as I felt her eyes on my back. I subconsciously tried to tense my back muscles, but that just hurt the wound in my side. Why was I so damn keen to impress someone I could never have sex with?
“Look carefully at the left eye socket.”
Chloe shifted on the sofa and moved her head closer to my back to get a better look, being careful not to actually touch me while she did so. Did she think I was contagious or something? Would she only touch me after I’d been stabbed? If so, I’d be seriously tempted to go get a knife and--
“There’s a scar there,” she remarked. “It looks like… a bullet wound.”
“That’s because it is one.”
“You were shot.”
“Yep. I got lucky. The bullet just missed my spine, and the doctors were able to repair the damage to my internal organs.”
“You got in the way, didn’t you?” Chloe asked. “Someone tried to kill Kara, and you stepped in the way of the bullet.”
“It’s not quite as heroic as it sounds. I acted on instinct.”
“That’s exactly what makes it heroic. Most people’s instinct is to dive away from bullets, not towards them.”
“I never was all that bright.”
I turned back to face Chloe, but decided not to put my shirt back on. It was a touch cold in here, but getting dressed was the last thing on my mind.
“You strike me as a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them,” Chloe said. “But what do I know? I’m just a PA.”
“You are certainly not just a PA. Just because I boss you around all day, doesn’t mean you’re any less important than me. Never forget that.”
“Stop being nice. It freaks me out.”
It freaked me out too. What the hell was I doing? Dad would go apeshit if he saw me acting like this with a girl. He was the complete opposite of Mom in that respect. Mom wanted me to find a nice girl, settle down, and pop out little grandkids for her. She’d never said much about my womanizing ways, but recently she’d started making it clear, with the sort of disapproving looks that only a mom can give, that she wanted me to grow out of it.
I had no idea how long the silence had lasted but finally Chloe spoke up. “Are all the tattoos covering up scars?”
I smiled at her. I kept doing that. I’d smiled more in the last week than I had in the months since Kara had died.
“I swear you’re just desperate for any excuse to look at my body. Do you have any tattoos I can look at? This seems rather one-sided so far.”
“Sorry, no tattoos. No scars. Nothing physical anyway. I’ve lived a rather uneventful life compared to you.”
“Uneventful is good,” I replied. “I’d take uneventful right now.” I turned my right side towards Chloe to show her my right bicep, making sure to tense it as I did so. “There’s a scar on my arm as well, but that happened after the tattoo. I also have one just below my ribs, but you can barely see that.”
Kara reached out and lightly touched the scar on my arm with a finger, before pulling it back quickly as if my skin were hot to the touch. She did the same with the scar below my ribs, and--not for the first time--I was seriously wishing I had scars in more interesting places to show her.
“How did you get these?” she asked.
“Went through a window,” I replied.
“That’s why most people use doors, I guess.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help my laugh at her bad joke. “I don’t remember you including ‘funny and witty,’ as one of the skills on your résumé.”
“And I don’t remember you mentioning ‘cleaning stab wounds’ as one of the job requirements. We all leave things out from time to time. Sometimes it’s more fun to discover things naturally.”
She couldn’t have been more right. If someone had described Chloe and tried to set me up with her, then I wouldn’t have believed how special she was. I would have ignored it as another attempt to get me away from one night stands.
But every minute I spent with Chloe revealed something new about her. She probably wasn’t perfect--no one was--but I’d have to look damn hard to find any flaws.
Chloe once again took it upon herself to end the silence. “You’re going to kill them, aren’t you? The people who killed Kara. You’re going to get revenge.”
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.
“That won’t bring her back. It won’t make you feel any better.”
“I know. But they deserve it anyway.”
“You know who killed her?”
“Yes. But I don’t know where he is. He’s a rather illusive figure; I don’t even know what he looks like. But I know he killed her. And I’ll find him. He’ll slip up, and when he does, I’m going to kill him.”
Chloe nodded silently, as if what I’d just said was the most normal thing in the world. I must be misreading her. Every instinct told me she was a sweet, but tough, young woman, who wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“Okay,” Chloe said, seemingly reaching a decision about something.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
“You fucking well won’t,” I snapped far more aggressively than I’d intended. “You’re not helping me kill him.”
“No, I won’t. But I’ll help you find him. On one condition.”
“And what would that be?”
“Up until the moment we find him, you have to consider not killing him. You think that’s what you want, but I don’t think it is. That’s not you. You’re not a killer.
“Yes, Chloe, I am,” I said truthfully.
“Okay, but you’re not a murderer. You don’t enjoy killing, and I think you’ll regret it.”
Chloe was being deadly serious. She actually wanted to help me find Roddy. Regardless, I couldn’t let her do that.
“You can’t help. You’ll be a co-conspirator to murder.”
“No, I won’t. First, you’re not going to kill him. Second, I can just say I didn’t know what I was helping with. Look at this face.” She pointed to herself and did a phenomenal impression of a puppy who desperately wanted a treat. “What court would think I’d be involved in a crime?”
Chloe was right. I found it hard to believe she could ever put a foot wrong. She looked the picture of innocence. But it was still too dangerous. I could pay enough lawyers to keep her out of prison, but what if Roddy Barton got wind of Chloe's involvement. She might end up just like Kara. I couldn’t take that risk.
“You’re not getting involved,” I insisted. My tone of voice made it clear that topic of conversation was over.
Chloe looked a little hurt, but I would rather she be disappointed now, than in any physical danger later.
“Let’s watch that movie shall we?” I suggested. “How about Point Break? I want something mindless.”
“Never heard of it,” Chloe said. “What’s it about?”
“You’ve never heard of it? It’s a classic. A cop goes undercover with a bunch of criminals and ends up falling in love with one of them.”
“Not that one,” Chloe snapped quickly. I obviously hadn’t done a good job of selling it. “Here, hand me the remote.”
Chloe took the remote and we ended up in front
of another mindless action movie that was nowhere near as good as Point Break.
I didn’t care. We just sat there next to each other talking and joking about all the cheesy bits in the movie, while drinking and eating chips.
I came back from the bathroom and found her asleep on the sofa. She looked comfortable enough, so I grabbed the sheet from her room and placed it over her.
She lay there on her back with her mouth open slightly, looking completely out for the count. I’d never seen a woman look more attractive.
God, I liked her. I hated to admit it, but I really did like her. And not in the way I usually liked women. I did want to fuck Chloe, but there was much more to it than that.
I had to be careful.
There was no way this would end well.
“You took a huge risk, Chloe,” Lois lectured, as soon as we met up in the park before work.
When Lois found out about my little excursion with Denton, she’d hopped on a plane and come down to the Chicago office. She now planned to stay here until this operation was over, which was essentially her way of saying she was keeping an eye on me.
“It seemed like a good opportunity to get information,” I explained. “I would have called, but I didn’t want to make the call from my phone.”
“Did you get any?” Lois asked. I knew the mention of possible evidence would take her attention off my transgressions quickly enough.
“No,” I lied. “Nothing of note. But he trusts me now. The information will come soon. I’m convinced of it.”
The FBI already knew about Kara’s death and we knew that she’d been murdered, but I didn’t mention that Denton was actively hunting down her killer. I completely believed him when he said he’d kill the man, but there was still time to change his mind. I wouldn’t let Denton murder in cold-blood. He’d never live with himself. That’s just not the type of man he was. I knew that.
“Why did you even go up to the mountains anyway?” Lois asked. “It almost sounds like he was taking you on a romantic getaway.”
“Oh, no, it was nothing like that,” I insisted. It had nearly ended up that way, but we kept things strictly platonic. That hadn’t been easy.
For most of the evening, Denton had sat there without a t-shirt on, his ripped muscles, and tattoos on display for me to stare at. I barely watched any of the movie. My eyes spent the entire time straining to the side desperate to get a better look at his arms. And his chest. And his abs.
The only bad thing about his body was how damn self-conscious it made me feel about mine. Denton didn’t appear to have any body fat whatsoever. I wasn’t exactly overweight myself, but I had plenty of pinchable bits of skin. Denton was about as soft as a stone statue.
I also took every opportunity possible to stare at the scar on his back. A visible, and permanent reminder, of how he’d saved his friend’s life.
Kara had just been a friend. I hated how relieved I’d been to hear that news. She was dead, and there I was happy to find out Denton hadn’t been in love with her. What kind of person did that make me?
The kind of person who betrays the confidence of a man who has done me no harm, I suppose.
“Does Denton just like to abandon the office once in awhile?” Lois asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
Especially when he’s been up to something dodgy and is covered in blood. Okay, so the blood was his own, but he must have done something strenuous to tear through his stitches like that. He never did tell me, but it seemed safe to assume that someone had been punched. They probably deserved it. That’s what I had to tell myself.
“What happened just before that?” Lois asked. She sensed I was holding something back.
Lois would be able to find out where I’d been through the tracker on my phone, and that would lead her to the factory. I might as well tell her. At least that way I might not completely lose her trust and confidence.
“We drove by a factory,” I said, before giving Lois the address. “Denton just popped in to make a delivery.”
“I’ll check it out.”
Lois went silent, but she didn’t hang up. I sensed another lecture coming on and sure enough…
“Did he try anything?” she asked delicately.
“No. Nothing like that. He was actually quite the gentleman.”
Lois snorted in disbelief. “I expect that’s just part of his plan to get you into bed. He thinks you like the mature type and is playing the game. Don’t fall for him, Chloe. He’s experienced with women and knows how to play them.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience,” I joked.
Lois laughed, but it sounded forced. “Not exactly. But I have spoken to women he’s been with and none of them have a positive thing to say about him. He’s dangerous, and you can’t trust him.”
“I know,” I said softly. I hoped my words sounded at least vaguely convincing, but I doubted it.
Denton didn’t seem dangerous--not to me anyway. To his enemies… well, that was another matter entirely. I wouldn’t want him coming after me that’s for sure.
Lois checked the time on her phone. “You should be heading to the office.”
Thank God for that. I couldn’t wait to get away from Lois now. Hearing her talk so harshly about Denton was painful, and I was beginning to dislike her, even though I knew she meant well.
Just before I walked away, Lois handed me a jewelry box.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking the box from her hands.
“A necklace.”
I opened the box and pulled out a rather bulky looking brown necklace that looked like the sort of thing I wouldn’t even go near at seventy-five percent off in a sale. I never wore much jewelry anyway, and if I did it tended to be petite and delicate, not large and heavy.
“I assume this isn’t just an early birthday present from everyone at the office,” I remarked.
“It can be if you like. But it also records audio and video, although the quality isn’t great to be honest. Better than nothing though.”
“Do I leave it on all the time?” I asked. “How much can it record?”
“You can get a couple of hours on there.”
Lois took the necklace from me, and pulled the back off of the hideous brown gem and revealed a mini USB connector. The necklace was activated by squeezing the sides together for a second. I should be able to do that discretely enough. It would just look like I was fiddling with it because of nerves or boredom.
“Hook this up to your laptop every night,” Lois instructed. “Then wipe it clean for the next day. Only use it when you go off the premises with him. I doubt he does anything particularly incriminating in the office. That way, you should have enough space to get through the day.”
I took the necklace from Lois and put it on. Denton might as well get used to seeing me in it, even if I did look ridiculous.
“Alright, I’d better be going,” I said. I didn’t start work for another thirty minutes, but I needed out of this conversation and that was as good an excuse as any.
I used the time before work to give Mom a call. She’d been ringing my normal cellphone and never getting through because I always left that at home. I now had a number of irate voicemails and emails from her demanding I call her back.
I rang the number for the house and nearly hung up, but she answered just in time. Wasn’t I lucky?
“I told you, I don’t need any life insurance,” Mom said angrily into the phone as she answered.
“Uh, okay. Hi Mom.”
“Oh, it’s you. Hi sweetie. What’s this number you’re calling from?”
“I, uh, lost my phone and had to get a temporary replacement.”
I probably just should have told her that in the first place, but I’d been so anxious about starting this undercover operation that my mind had been all over the place.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Mom asked, as if she hadn’t demanded I call her.
“Well I was going to try to sell
you some life insurance, but I guess that’s off the table. What was all that about?”
“I’d just had a sales call from someone selling life insurance, and I thought he was calling me back.”
“Aren’t you on the no call list?”
“In theory, but they seem to find a way around that. What with life insurance and the scam calls, I’m getting rather fed up with it.”
“What scam calls?”
“Oh you know, all that ‘distant relative has left you a bequest. Please get in touch so that we can make sure you get the money.’ I must be getting old if I’m the target for these sorts of calls.”
“You’re fifty, Mom. I reckon you have another two--maybe even three--years before you completely lose your marbles.”
“Thank you, dear,” Mom said sarcastically. “You always know how to make me feel better. Anyway, how’s the new job going? I still can’t believe they transferred you to another city after just a few months.”
“It’s standard procedure,” I lied. “All junior FBI recruits get moved around a lot so they can pick up new skills.”
That had a semblance of truth to it. New recruits did move divisions quite often, because it’s important to get a good idea how the whole operation works, and not just your piece of the puzzle. However, it was rare for employees to move cities unless they request a permanent transfer. It was too expensive.
For this operation, the FBI was paying my rent and the hotel bills for Lois’ visits. The Bureau might have billions of dollars in annual budget, but every expenditure had to be signed off, and no one liked doing that. You needed two signatures just to get a new stapler.
“Do you like it in Chicago?” Mom asked. “I’ve never been, but I hear it’s dangerous.”
“It’s fine, Mom. And it’s not dangerous. Well, not that dangerous. It’s not like New York is a crime-free zone.”
I’d never once felt unsafe walking around the streets of Chicago, but perhaps that was because the real danger lie in Denton’s dad finding out I was an undercover FBI agent. Muggers and thieves would be child’s play compared to what he would do to me if he found out.
Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance Page 9