by LK Shaw
“Nothing I tell you goes any further than you and me. You got it?”
“Of course.”
“I can’t say a lot. Mostly because I don’t know much. It’s called Rapture. Gibson called me into his office yesterday. He wants me to find out everything I can about the substance. Who’s selling it. Who’s supplying it. We’re blind, but based on the stats I’ve been running, this is huge. We’re talking upper millions.”
Brody pulled the phone away from his mouth, but I still heard him curse. Then he was back. “Preston talked to Ines yesterday. She’s reaching out to the local narcs and seeing what she can find out about this shit. From what Michele said, word on the street is that a ton of girls are dying. I need to see if they’ve run any type of chemical composition on this stuff. See what they’re cutting it with.”
“Our lab tech guys have already done that. We’re just waiting on the analysis report. I’ll see what I can find out. I was left with a veiled threat.”
“What kind of threat?” Brody growled.
“It’s an election year.”
“Gibson is a dick.”
I had to laugh. Neither of them had been a fan of the other, so most of their communication had gone through me. “That may be true, but he’s still my boss. I’m also going back out in the field in a few days. I’ve got some leads I plan on following up on. I know you’ll do whatever it is you do on your end. Same as me. I’ll share what I can, and I’m sure you’ll do the same, but since you’re a civilian, it won’t be much.”
“I understand. It’s been a year since you’ve been an agent. Regardless of the time, things are different now. I just want you to be careful.”
“I’ve got Crawford and Brickman watching my back.”
“Good. They’re both a bit uptight, but they know what the fuck they’re doing, and I trust them to help keep you safe. Keep me updated, okay?”
“I will.”
“All right, I’ll be in touch. Thanks, Landon.”
For several minutes after hanging up, I sat there. Knowing Brody was involved changed things. Mostly, because that meant we might be able to work together again, which I’d missed. But he was a package deal. I wouldn’t be working with just him. Seeing Preston had brought back emotions I’d spent too much time burying.
My initial reaction to hearing he and his brother had worked through their differences had been happiness. Brody loved his brother, and I’d seen over the years how much it hurt him that they weren’t closer. But the fact they were partners in their own P.I. firm spoke volumes. Preston was helping people who needed it.
Aside from that brief meeting outside Brody’s house last month, it had been two years since I’d talked to him. Had he become who he’d wanted? Had he forgiven himself?
I shook off the memories. No good would come of any of them. Instead, I pushed away all thoughts of Preston and that night and went back to work.
After one final stretch, I rubbed my eyes, trying to ease the strain behind them. I’d been staring at my computer screen for hours and getting nowhere. Or at least, not any further than where I’d gotten two hours ago. That was about the time I hit a dead end. It was pointless to keep sitting here doing nothing.
I’d been given the go-ahead to join Crawford and Brickman’s team tomorrow. Gibson must have expedited the request. Which meant I needed to go home to get a good night’s rest.
My nights were almost always plagued with nightmares. Except that night with Preston. The stupid voice mocked me. That had been one of the rare nights I’d fallen into a dreamless sleep. I’d woken up and for several moments I’d just stared at him. His face had been relaxed, and he’d looked so peaceful. From what Brody had told me, Preston was ten years younger than his brother, which would put him at five years younger than me.
For a moment, I’d imagined staying until he woke up. No doubt he’d have given me a few more orgasms. Maybe we would have had a cup of coffee or breakfast. But then what? It would have been an awkward goodbye.
I’d been selfish asking him to take away my pain. That pain was my penance. One I had to continue paying for the rest of my life.
I shut down my computer, grabbed my coat, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed out the door. A heavy snow was falling outside, and I stopped for a moment to admire it. We were forecast to get at least eight inches of it by morning. Most people hated snow but not me. I appreciated the stark beauty of it. The cold was what I hated. My ideal vacation was cuddling up beneath a wool blanket inside a log cabin on a snow-covered mountain, with a roaring fireplace and hot cocoa in hand.
I picked up my pace and hurried down the sidewalk so I didn’t miss my train. Just as my foot hit the first step of the staircase leading under the street, I heard his voice.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
I glanced up and there, right on the other side of the concrete wall, was Preston, beanie pulled down over his ears, his nose and cheeks bright red from the cold. My heart skipped, and I sucked in a breath before ignoring him and continuing down the stairs.
“Landon, wait.”
What was he doing here? The traitorous part of me was happy to see him, but I squashed that. Was he stalking me? I tried to put as much distance between us as possible. If I was lucky, the train would arrive any second, and I could jump on before Preston managed to catch up with me.
Seeing the empty platform told me my luck had run out. Shit. I stood there, my foot tapping an irritated beat.
“Running again, I see.”
My lids dropped closed as that bourbon-smooth voice rolled through me. Pasting on the mask I got so tired of wearing, I swiveled my head in his direction.
“What do you want, Preston?” I was proud of how steady the question came out, because my insides were trembling. Despite the noxious odor of the subway station, I still caught a whiff of that goddamn spring and sunshine scent of his. It was meant to torment me.
“I want to know why you ran. Why the fake name?” He sighed heavily and those hazel eyes of his studied me.
Seeing.
Knowing.
Hurting.
I shifted my weight, uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny.
“I just want to know why.”
I took in everything about him. Preston had changed some since that night. He’d been slender back then, but he’d definitely filled out some. Not so hollowed cheeks. A bit bulkier in the shoulders. He also seemed a little more at peace.
My head turned until I was no longer looking at him, because I couldn’t stand to see the confusion in his gaze. “It was better for both of us.” Which was the truth.
“I don’t think you’re the only one who gets to decide what’s best.”
The screeching of bad brakes pierced the air, echoing in the enclosed chamber surrounding us until the lumbering beast came to a halt. The pneumatic doors hissed before opening. People spilled out of the cars. In five steps I was inside and pivoted to see Preston still standing on the platform, his eyes locked on mine.
“In this case, I do. Let it go.” Let me go. Those last words were unspoken, but he flinched as though I’d said them out loud. After another hiss, the doors closed, but I could still see him clearly through the Plexiglas, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t read. With a jerk, the train darted way, putting much needed distance between us.
Chapter 8
For two days, I couldn’t stop thinking about my run-in with Landon inside the subway station. Not that it had been accidental. I’d needed to see her, talk to her, again. She’d been so determined outside Brody’s house all those weeks ago that our night together hadn’t been more than a casual fuck.
I’d seen the pain she’d tried to hide. It had been in her rigid posture, in the way she’d refused to look me in the eye. Her casual dismissiveness was a protective move. I just didn’t know why. Unless it was her alleged sins. The one she’d told me she needed forgiveness for.
More than anything, I wanted her to trust me with them, bu
t there was no way that would happen if she kept pushing my away. Why did I care so much?
I kept asking myself.
I still didn’t haven’t an answer.
But the one thing I was sure of was that no matter how much she denied it, the connection between us that night had been real.
I needed to stop thinking of her and start focusing on the meeting I was heading to. Despite my reassurances to Brody that it would all be fine, I’d admit to being nervous for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which was the fact that I was about to have a face-to-face with my former dealer. What the fuck had I been thinking? Despite my promise to Brody that coming here wouldn’t be a problem, I couldn’t stop that tiny, insidious voice from whispering in my ear.
No one will ever know. Just a little bit. For old time’s sake.
I parked my toasty warm car along the curb of the one-way street under the shade of a giant maple tree just like the old days. The quiet neighborhood in the Lake View area of Chicago was straight out of Better Homes and Gardens. During the summer, the lawns were a bright, Kelly green and perfectly manicured. Although calling them lawns was generous.
Street after street was lined with shotgun houses. Like dominoes, they were placed so close together, one neighbor could reach out of their kitchen window and nearly touch the house next to them. But the majority of them had a small grassy area in front. A few, like the one I was walking to, were set off to themselves, surrounded by a wrought iron fence.
The glaring sun was a disguise for the bitter cold air surrounding me. I tugged my beanie down a little further over my ears and shuddered as a chill snaked its way past my collar to slither along my spine. It didn’t help I was only a block from the lake, which only exacerbated the fucking freezing temps Chicago was feeling right now.
The two-story house stood out from the rest of the neighborhood. From its bright white siding that dirt wouldn’t dare cling to, to its painted black shutters, it was obvious the owners spent a lot of money on its upkeep. Despite the fact we were most definitely in winter the manicured lawn still maintained, if not the bright green of summer, a lighter green, as opposed to the brown shade of death.
With a faint clang, I let the gate close behind me, and I took the steps up to the front door. The people on the other side knew I was there before I knocked. I didn’t glance in any direction but forward. The back of my neck burned knowing that numerous unseen cameras were following every step I’d taken, the second I’d reached the property. Despite the fact my presence was detected, I rapped on the wood in front of me. My hand trembled, and I shoved it in my coat pocket. I counted to ten before I heard the sound of the first of many deadbolts disengaging. The door opened to a familiar, diminutive man wearing a suit. No one would ever guess he was a former assassin.
“Can I help you?” His greeting was polite, but cool.
“I’m here to see Mr. Larkins.” I was proud of the fact my voice came out confident and strong.
“May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Preston Thomas.” As if Carlisle didn’t already know who I was. But this was how it was done.
The small man bowed. “Please wait here. I’ll see if he’s available.”
I inclined my head, and he disappeared down a hallway that branched off the high-ceilinged foyer. I didn’t remove my coat, but I slid my beanie off my head and tucked it in my pocket. My eyes traveled around the room.
Everything about the entryway was the same as the last time I’d been here. A three-tiered crystal chandelier hung from the center, each light brightly lit and sparkling like a flawless diamond. Each of the four six-paneled windows along the rear wall was washed clean without a single streak marring its surface.
The white marble floor was polished to a shine that rivaled the sun. Paintings by long-dead famous artists decorated the walls, their bright colors standing out against the paleness of the rest of the room. Standing here, once again, in the same spot I’d stood so many times before sent conflicting emotions bouncing through me.
Footsteps grew louder until they echoed through the cavernous entryway, and Carlisle reappeared.
“Mr. Larkins will see you.” He turned away again, not offering to take my coat. Which was fine. I didn’t plan on being here that long. I followed him down a long hallway, bisected by a short hallway. A right turn led us to our intended destination.
The door was open and given a gesture to enter, I stepped into the giant office. It smelled of cigar and a faint hint of pine. A solid bookcase stood against the wall to my left with rows and rows of books lining the shelves. There was a towering grandfather clock against another wall, its brass pendulum swinging back and forth, the faint tick-tock a background noise to the room.
But the presence of the man behind the desk was what drew my full attention. He was in his late forties, with salt-and-pepper hair and matching mustache and goatee. His navy, pinstriped three-piece suit no doubt cost more than I’d make in a year. Power radiated from him despite being seating. Even the hulking bodyguard positioned in the corner didn’t catch as much attention.
“Mr. Thomas, it’s been a long time.” He didn’t offer me a seat.
“Over a year.”
“And how may I help you today?”
I’d debated how I was going to handle today’s meeting. Aside from the cartel, Larkins was one of the leading heroin dealers in Chicago, catering to the addictions of the rich and famous. His dope was the highest grade product out there.
“I was hoping you could provide me some information.” If I hadn’t known Terrance Larkins for nearly eight years, I wouldn’t dare ask for his assistance.
He leaned forward and rested his chin on steepled fingers. I didn’t blink or glance away no matter how long he continued to stare at me. Several minutes passed before finally, with a bark of laughter, he leaned back and relaxed in his chair. “Always did have balls the size of cantaloupes, didn’t ya Preston? Have a seat and tell me about this information you’re looking for.”
I sank into the plush leather chair on this side of his desk.
“I recently went into business with my brother. We started our own PI firm.”
“Congratulations. I’m glad to see the two of you have worked out your differences. I know how much Brody means to you.” Terrance intentionally used my brother’s name. He knew who, and what, my brother was. It wasn’t necessarily a threat. More like a subtle reminder. “I’m still not sure what that has to do with me.”
“Apparently there’s this new shit product out there called Rapture. No one knows where it’s coming from. I was hoping you might be able to lead me in a direction.” I remained still and relaxed while he studied me.
His posture didn’t change, but there was definitely a shift in the air surrounding him. “I assume this has something to do with your new business venture?”
I nodded. “A stripper came to us after one of her girlfriends overdosed. Asked for our help.”
It had been a calculated risk coming here. Like Terrance said, it was pretty ballsy of me. But, if he gave me what I was asking for, then it was worth it. I didn’t say anything further. Just waited on whatever decision he would come to. Either he gave me something or he didn’t.
The tick-tock sound from the grandfather clock seemed excessively loud while neither of us spoke. I started counting along. One-tick, two-tock, three-tick, four-tock, five-tick.
I’d reached eighteen-tock before he broke the silence. “I’ve always liked you Preston. You aren’t messy, and you know how to keep your mouth shut. I admire those traits in people.”
He paused, yet I continued remaining quiet. I’d learned over the years the appropriate time to speak to a man like Terrance Larkins, and this was definitely not one of those times. It was my acknowledgment to his power and control over our conversation. Finally, he spoke again.
“I scratched and clawed my way out of the gutters of this fucking city. Built this empire from almost nothing. That doesn’t mean that I’ve forgot
ten where I came from. Forgotten about my friends who still live on those streets.” He leaned forward again, resting his forearms along the desktop in front of him. “I offer my customers a high-quality product, because I remember watching people, friends, die on some dirty mattress in a rat-infested building from bad shit.”
Terrance’s gaze was glassy and unfocused. Was he thinking of those dead friends now? He blinked and his eyes landed back on me. “I recommend you visit Club Delight.”
Nothing else was forthcoming so I took that as my cue that this conversation was over.
“Thank you.” I rose from the chair. I’d gotten what I’d come for. It wasn’t much, but it was more than I expected. It was up to Brody and me to figure things out from here. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me, Mr. Larkins.”
I pivoted to show myself out. I knew the way.
“Oh, and Preston?”
I paused just outside the door of his office and glanced back to see the ruthless drug lord staring back at me. “My generosity only extends so far. The next time you come here asking for information, I’ll have Jake here go say hello to that lovely cop girlfriend of your brother’s. Are we clear?”
I didn’t flinch, merely inclined my head in acknowledgment, before walking out the front door, my palms sweating as I swallowed back the nausea. Brody was right. It had been a mistake to come here.
Chapter 9
Preston had come to me in a dream last night. Only it was unlike one I’d ever had before. I’d been standing next to a lily-pad covered lake, sunlight peeking through the newly budding trees that surrounded me. It was quiet, except for the birds singing and the occasional croaking frog. I was on the stair-staggered rock formation looking out over the water, and I felt a presence behind me. I hadn’t been scared, though.
Strong arms circled my waist, and I angled my head as lips brushed a soft kiss against the side of my neck. I inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of new beginnings and rebirth filling my nose. I didn’t turn in his arms. Just leaned back into the solid chest as his arms tightened. Peace flowed through me. At least I thought it was peace. I’d never felt it before. We’d stood there in silence until I’d woken up, my pillow damp from the tears I’d spilled in my sleep.