Risking It All

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Risking It All Page 3

by Max Hudson


  “Special Agent Martindale, FBI. Your turn.”

  “Officer Harry Bryant.” The cop reached into his breast pocket, retrieving a slim wallet. “I’m just taking over from my colleague.”

  He opened the wallet and held it out. Drew clipped his badge back to his belt and brought out his flashlight. Switching it on, he took a closer look. Harry Bryant. He did look a lot like Callow. In the dark, it would be easy to mistake him for the real thing. Then Drew saw Harry’s credentials.

  “Traffic enforcement? What are you doing here?”

  “Numbers are light on the ground.” Harry withdrew his badge and tucked it back into his pocket. “And I need the money. Family and all that.”

  Family. He looked like a family man. Drew didn’t even know what family was anymore. Both his parents were dead and he had no siblings. He was on his own. Why was he thinking about that now?

  “Did you think I might be Alex Callow?” Harry looked vaguely amused. “You think I’m going to sneak in dressed as a cop?”

  “I haven’t seen you before and we need to make sure.”

  “That I get.” Harry arched an eyebrow. “Are you going to put that away?”

  “What? Oh.” Drew had forgotten that he was holding his gun at Harry. He put it back in the holster. “Have you been briefed on what’s happening?”

  “That Callow has been stalking the woman in the house, and as it’s day three there is a concern that he’s going to strike tonight.” Harry grunted. “He’s not going to come anywhere near if we’re all out here wandering around like elephants.”

  “We have to make sure.” Drew bristled at that. Cheeky sod. “And if it acts as a deterrent until we can catch him, so be it.”

  “Maybe he’ll throw a curved ball and go into hiding until you stop looking for him.” Harry suggested.

  Drew shook his head.

  “Men like Callow follow a routine. They don’t deviate. If he doesn’t turn up, it could be because he knows we’re here. And we shouldn’t lower our guard.”

  Harry grunted.

  “I think I would prefer to deal with drunks and those who hit their spouses.”

  “That’s mundane compared to this.”

  “That I’ll agree with.” Harry looked around. “Do you want me to patrol or sit in my cruiser? It’s getting cold out here.”

  “Best to go sit in your cruiser.” Drew tapped at his radio. “You see anything, I’m on channel twenty-one. Same goes if you want some company.”

  Why the hell had he just said that? He shouldn’t have said anything beyond what channel he was on. Why would he say something like that? From the look on Harry’s face, he was wondering the same thing. Then the younger man recovered and cleared his throat.

  “Okay, sir. I’m not going to let anything get by me. I’m good at my job.”

  “Good.”

  They stared at each other. For some reason, Drew didn’t want to leave. He wanted to hang around with this man. Something started burning in his gut and began to build. Then he cleared his throat and turned, hurrying over to the car. What was going on with him? He needed to focus on his work, not on the handsome uniformed cop in front of him.

  Dear God, he needed to get his head on straight.

  Chapter Three

  Harry sat in his cruiser watching the huge FBI vehicle across the street. It was dark inside, but Harry could imagine Drew sitting there watching the house. Or listening to the radio. Chances were he wouldn’t have loosened his tie. That did make Harry smile.

  When Drew Martindale had strode up to him with a gun pointed at his face, Harry had almost reached for his own weapon. No one stuck a gun in his face. Not since Alex. Somehow, he managed to keep his composure and faced the FBI agent down. Which was difficult when all Harry could think about was how handsome the dark-haired, scowling man was.

  He had to live at the gym. Even wearing a suit, it was clear that he took good care of himself. Harry had tried not to stare and let his eyes drift over that body. Any man would kill to have a body like that. Most women would be queuing up to sample it.

  Harry would happily join the queue. And that gave him pause.

  Knowing that he was bisexual wasn’t a bother. His wife had known about it and was fine with it as long as Harry didn’t cheat on her. He had never strayed from Andrea, although he had gone off the wagon for a few months after her death. Harry just felt like he ended up floundering. He wanted Andrea back and looked for comfort in other people. It was only remembering that he had twin boys at home who were also grieving and needed him more, that stopped Harry from imploding.

  Agent Martindale was probably going to be horrified that he had managed to attract the attention of the bisexual cop sitting across the street from him.

  Harry looked toward the house. Hopefully, Alex wasn’t going to try anything tonight. If at all. Even though Harry was still confused as to why Alex would tell him about his next victim, or who it was. When Harry had heard Rosalie’s name, he had been very surprised. Was Alex angry at Rosalie for something? Then again, it could be anything. Alex could make an enemy just by them breathing the wrong way. Rosalie must have said something at the wrong moment and Alex didn’t like it.

  She fit the profile that Alex liked as well. A profile that matched their high school English teacher, Miss May. She had drawn a lot of gazes and erotic fantasies from the boys in her class, even Harry. Alex had taken it a step further, openly pursuing her. Miss May had quite rightly refused him due to him being a student and that she was engaged to be married. Alex’s response was to go to her house and break in, beating up the fiancé before leaving again. The engagement had broken off soon after, and Miss May had left the city.

  Alex had never confessed to it, but Harry just knew. He knew what Alex had done just by looking at him. The bastard was slick and smug, but easy to read once you figured him out.

  Harry wondered if he should tell Drew about this. About his connection. But that might mean putting Harry in an interview room and interrogate him about everything. There was a good chance that he would be classed as an accomplice, and Harry wouldn’t put it above Alex to frame him for the murders.

  Once tonight was over, if nothing happened, Harry would approach the FBI. Once he had his children safe and hidden from Alex. Once he knew what Harry was up to, they were in danger. Harry wasn’t about to leave a door open for Alex to go through. He would cut off Alex’s threats to murder Harry’s kids if he so much as looked at him the wrong way.

  Jamie and Adam were his life. They were not going anywhere. Alex, as far as he was concerned, could go to hell.

  There came an incessant buzzing from his pocket. Harry gritted his teeth. It was going to be him. He was sure of it. His neighbor Kate had agreed to come over and keep an eye on the boys while Harry was on shift. It was not exactly ideal considering the isolation, but Harry trusted Kate. She was a teacher as well, and she knew how to handle the situation, never mind two precocious eight-year-old boys.

  Harry fished out his cell phone and saw the unknown number. Why did he agree to this in the first place? He should have said no and hidden his children away.

  Sighing, Harry answered.

  “What?”

  “Is that a way to speak to me?”

  “Fuck off.” Harry snapped. “I’m out here pulling a double shift when I should be at home with my family.”

  “Ah, yes, family.” Alex drawled. “How is the family? Coping well enough in these dark times?”

  Harry growled.

  “You do not get to ask about my children.”

  “I thought I had a right.”

  “Not from me, you don’t.”

  “Pity.” Alex’s voice hardened. “When are you being relieved?”

  “Midnight.”

  “Make sure you do what I want.”

  What he wanted. Which was to plant an envelope in the FBI’s car without anyone noticing. Inside was a threat from Alex, goading Drew. Harry had looked up on the man once Alex told hi
m who it was for. Drew had been the one who had hunted Alex before and they had come face to face. The man was hungry for blood, especially if it was Alex’s.

  But trying to put it in the car or leave it somewhere when there was a guard about was going to be easier said than done.

  “I cannot believe that I let you talk me into this.”

  Alex sniggered.

  “I didn’t talk you into anything. You know what’s at stake.”

  Harry did. But that was going to change. Harry had made up his mind. This was going to be the last time, and then he was going to approach the FBI. As long as his children were safe, he would do whatever they wanted of him.

  He should have done this years ago when Alex first started turning to him for help. It had only been small, such as letting him stay for the night. Harry had cut himself off from Alex for a reason, and the bastard just kept coming back. He didn’t want Alex anyway near him, and he should have told him to fuck off long ago. But Alex was a man who would not listen. He would manage to sneak his way back in when Harry’s guard was down.

  This was going to be the last time. Harry had had to give up a lot to distance himself, and it hadn’t worked. He had lost people he loved because of Alex. He was getting tired.

  “Harry? You still awake?”

  Harry sighed.

  “I’m still awake, you bastard.”

  “Good.” Alex chuckled. “Well, enjoy it while the night lasts. I think you’re going to have an eventful shift.”

  “What does that mean?”

  But all Harry got in response was a dial-tone. He hung up and looked toward the house. There was a twitching of the curtains, and then Harry saw a movement in the bushes on the far side of the house. It was behind the car parked in the drive, but Harry noticed the bushes shifting and then a dark figure darted out and disappeared down the side of the house.

  “Shit!”

  That’s what Alex meant. The bastard was already here. Harry grabbed his radio and clambered out of the cruiser.

  “Agent Martindale, Callow’s here. I repeat, Callow’s here.”

  “What?” Drew’s voice crackled over the radio. “Where? I didn’t see anything.”

  “I did.” Harry said grimly, withdrawing his gun. “Around the back.”

  “Don’t go in on your own, Bryant. Wait for backup.”

  To hell with that. Harry ran toward the house and down the alley around the side. He burst out into the garden, gun up and pointed at Alex’s back as he tried to open a window.

  “Police, freeze! Put your hands up slowly!”

  Alex paused. Then he looked over his shoulder at Harry. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly in a while, and he hadn’t shaved, either. He was certainly thinner than before. But those eyes were the same. Sharp and black, practically gleaming. Alex smirked, flashing his white teeth. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion.

  Harry hesitated. He just froze up. This man had killed many women, and he had made Harry’s life hell. But he couldn’t bring himself to advance and arrest him, or even shoot at him as Alex’s hand reached into his pocket and withdrew his own gun.

  The first shot rang out, another in quick succession. The first bullet missed his head, but the second hit Harry in the chest. It knocked him off his feet and he hit the ground; all the wind knocked out of him. Gasping, he then felt the pain spread through his chest. God, that hurt. It never got any easier.

  There was a flurry of footsteps and Harry rolled onto his side in time to see Alex vault the fence into the garden next door. If he could get to his feet, he could go after the bastard. But the pain was pressing down on his chest.

  “Bryant!”

  Someone was kneeling beside him. Harry rolled onto his back and looked up at Drew, who was staring down at him with an angry scowl.

  “He got away.” Harry wheezed. “He didn’t get in.”

  “That’s something.” Drew was still not looking happy. “I thought I told you not to take him on alone.”

  “I had a chance. I had to take it.” Harry tried to sit up, only to flinch and fall back again. “Help me up, will you?”

  Drew’s jaw tightened, but he grasped Harry’s arm and helped him to sit. He began to unbutton Harry’s tunic.

  “Got you right in the vest, did it?”

  “It did.” Harry allowed Drew to open up his dress shirt to reveal his bulletproof vest. The bullet was firmly lodged where his heart would be. “I’m going to be bruised to high heaven for a while at that distance.”

  “You were lucky you were shot in the vest.” Drew said grimly. “He could have shot you in the head.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  Harry knew he should pull away when Drew’s hands probed his chest, his neck and his head. But he found that he couldn’t. He liked having the man’s hands on him, Drew’s fingers brushing over his jaw as he closely inspected his head for any further signs of injury. It was just typical that he would find this arousing when he had just been shot.

  Then Drew shifted closer to check the back of his head. And Harry got a deep whiff of his aftershave. It was subtle until you were up close, and then it was intense. Harry felt it fill his head and he felt dizzy. Then he felt his trousers getting tighter. His body liked the smell of the man, and his cock was finding that this was a good time to make itself known.

  God, not now. Growling, Harry moved away and rolled onto his knees. He had to get away from the man before the agent realized what he was doing to Harry’s body.

  “You need to stay still, Bryant.” Drew warned. “You could have injuries we can’t see.”

  “I’m fine.” Harry snapped. He snatched his hat from the ground and rose to his feet, keeping his back to Drew. Now would not be a good time to show that he had an erection. “I haven’t got a headache and my vision is fine. It’s just my chest.”

  “Even so…”

  “I said I’m fine!” Harry growled. “I can take care of myself.”

  Drew snorted.

  “Stronger men than you have said the same thing. And they found out the hard way.”

  Harry spun around.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Drew simply scowled and folded his arms. They glared at each other. Even with the anger, Harry could feel a different tension in the air. It was tingling across his skin. From the slight flare in Drew’s eyes, he could feel it as well.

  Of all the places to find attraction, this was certainly not the one that it should happen. Harry took a deep breath and pushed his arousal back. He needed to get control back. The pain in his chest was helping. He needed to get his vest off soon; it was tightening around his body, and Harry was finding it harder to breathe.

  “Drew?”

  The kitchen door had opened. The second agent - Jason Carlyle, Harry remembered - was standing on the threshold with his gun out. He was looking between Drew and Harry. Behind him, Harry could see Rosalie standing in the doorway, wearing what could only be described as a negligee, covered by a dressing down that looked like a strip of cloth. And she was wearing a scowl. Harry could only begin to think what Alex had told her to do to keep the agents distracted while he snuck up on them.

  From an initial glance at Carlyle, who was still wearing his suit and looked like nothing was out of place, it wasn’t working on him.

  He was still trying to figure out why Alex had done this in the first place. Rosalie wasn’t in any danger, just that she was the right type for Alex. So why were they going through with this charade? Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

  “Callow was trying to break in the back.” Drew never took his eyes off Harry. “This maverick here thought he could tackle the bastard on his own.”

  “It worked.” Harry argued back. “He got away.”

  “After he shot you.” Carlyle was eyeing Harry’s vest. “You were lucky he aimed at your vest and not at your head.”

  Harry bit back the response he wanted to say. That if it had been anyone els
e, they would have got a bullet in the head. There was a reason why he had been shot in the chest.

  “Go and get that vest off.” Drew said abruptly. “Take a moment to gather yourself, and then go home.”

  “But…”

  “You’ve been shot and you’re injured. I’ll get someone to cover for you if they have anyone.”

  Harry wanted to protest, but he knew Drew was right. He needed to recover. And from what Harry was guessing, Alex wouldn’t be coming back tonight. Everyone could breathe more easily.

  They could. Harry couldn’t.

  Not until Alex was gone.

  ***

  Callow didn’t come back that night. Drew had a feeling after being scared off the first time, he wouldn’t try again. Rosalie was safe, for now. But she still needed a guard on her, so one of the police officers at the nearby station was given the unenviable task of keeping an eye on her during the day. Drew had to make sure that the cop was either female or a married man who couldn’t be swayed. If Rosalie could start flirting with Drew and dress down to practically nothing for nightwear with Jason, she could easily start doing it with a single male cop.

  Isolation from everyone had to be making her go mad. Drew had not seen it like that before, but people coped with isolation in different ways. Either that or she had a mental illness going on.

  Either way, he wasn’t going to be around her. Whatever was going on in her head was unnerving. Drew needed to keep away from her unless he had no choice.

  As he headed into work, Drew found himself thinking about the failure the night before. And mostly about Officer Harry Bryant. Handsome didn’t cut it with him. Drew had encountered good-looking men before, but none of them had hit him with such an intense bolt of lust. And that was only just after a few minutes together.

  What would it be like if they were in each other’s company for longer?

  No. Drew shook himself. That would not happen. He had more important things to worry about than thinking about taking off Bryant’s clothes.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have become practically a monk with his private life. He was starting to find everyone attractive now.

  Showering and changing out of his gym clothes, Drew put his things into his locker and then headed through the building to the private office tucked away in the corner on his floor. Their technical genius would be there, isolating himself from everyone else. Then again, Special Agent Ewan Mitchell often ended up isolating himself anyway. He wasn’t one for much human contact, which Drew found amusing. He had never met anyone who was so determined to be anti-social. It was a wonder Mitch had become an agent at all.

 

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