by S. M. West
Long midnight locks, wild and free, frame her face, and her dark almond-shaped eyes sparkle. She’s in last night’s dress, one of those designer numbers, what does she call it? Ready-to-wear? It fits her curves as if made for her.
Her face is pensive, searching, almost immediately finding mine. As I trace the graceful sweep of high cheekbones to the fullness of plum-colored lips, the desire to kiss her sneaks up on me like a rogue wave.
Now isn’t the time or the place to be having these thoughts, and while I’ve got a lot of other pressing things on my mind, Tommie is the light in it all. I’m not surprised by the thought or that I seek her out in the middle of all this crap. We’re friends and I want more. What happens if I act on my feelings? How does she feel?
She smiles, frowning at the sight of my bruise thanks to my run in with Tiny. I brush off her concern. Once she hears me out, it will all make sense. She sits and Van takes the empty chair next to her.
Ry stalks to the front of the room. “Thanks everyone for gathering so quickly. I’m not going to waste time with any preamble. Max, over to you.”
I try not to read anything into his curt tone and bare bones introduction, if I can even call it that. While I’m no stranger to most, a warmer hand-off would have been nice, but I get that he just wants to understand what, if any, new threat exists.
“Thanks, Ry. Hi everyone.” I swallow past any misgivings I might have in doing this to a group rather than just Ry and Tommie and jump right in.
“Since coming back to the United States, I’ve been working for my mother, Taya Conrad. She thinks of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement but it’s extortion. In exchange for being her very own on-call doctor, she leaves Tate alone.”
I don’t bother to explain who my mother is and judging from the spines straightening, raised eyebrows, and a few gasps, I needn’t. Many eyes go to Ry, who is leaning against the wall closest to me.
Ry’s jaw is hard like marble and a scowl forms. “Why am I learning about this just now? You’ve been back for nearly five years.”
While ticked, he isn’t shocked, and he’s likely already guessed that I had some kind of deal going on with my mother. The man isn’t stupid, and he knows her all too well. I hate my mother, especially for what she did to Tate, and yet I’m still giving her the time of day.
Even still, I don’t care for his tone or the fact that he has no qualms about acting this way in front of his staff. Although he likely feels the same way with me divulging this to more than just him.
Perhaps in my haste to do something, I didn’t think this through. I rang an alarm bell, calling for them to circle the troops, when I could have been more strategic about my approach.
“Protecting my sister is important to me and I didn’t see any other choice.”
“If you’d come to us, we would have figured out another way,” Tripp says from the other side of the room, and I’m taken aback by his understanding tone.
He’s usually the last one to speak and when he does, it’s to the point and unapologetic.
“Together.” Van’s voice is neutral, adding to the no-blame sentiment as he tips his chair back to see both Ry and me.
Tommie watches silently. Her look is familiar, reserved for when she’s immersed in a case and determined to get to the bottom of whatever puzzle she’s trying to solve. Is she upset with me? That I sprang this on her in a room full of her colleagues? Or does she see my turmoil? I’m guessing the latter, given the softening of her gaze the longer we stare at each other.
“I’m protecting your sister and was trying to protect you too. Can’t do my job if I don’t have all the details,” Ry says through gritted teeth and my hackles rise as I break the connection with Tommie.
“I’m not your job, nor do I need protecting.” My arms fold to lock down the gathering annoyance.
“Hey, let’s move on,” Coop cuts in, casually resting his dark muscled arms on the table and clasping his fingers together. “Max, what happened? Why are you here, telling us this now?”
Uncrossing my arms, I rub my hands together to dispel my pent-up frustration and suddenly nervous energy. I save lives, transplant hearts for a living. Why the hell am I nervous? Maybe nervous isn’t the right word, on edge is more like it. Not feeling the need to apologize for protecting my sister.
“I’ve wanted out for a while but been unable to find a way…” I pace to the window, refocusing the direction of my thoughts, and the heat of all eyes burns into my back. “This morning, she called me to a warehouse I’d been to before to tend to a stab wound. That isn’t unusual. Those are the kinds of calls I get. But today, we went into the basement of the building. That was new and…”
I turn around to face the team, now shoulder to shoulder with Ry who isn’t looking at me but rather straight ahead. I sense some of his ire toward me has dissipated, with his shoulder not as taut and his breathing more even.
“There were women down there. I heard cries and maybe even someone calling for help. It was dark, so dark I couldn’t see anything, but the basement was like a labyrinth of corridors—”
“Fuck,” Ry bites out, now turning to face me, and we share a silent, weighted look as if he already knows what I’m talking about.
“Were there cells?” Coop asks.
My head snaps in his direction and I nod, suddenly fighting back the bile creeping up my throat. “How did you know?”
“Women?” Van asks, now standing and then Tommie too.
“Yes. I couldn’t see anything or anyone, but they were crying. And then I was taken to a cell where a woman was dying of a gunshot wound. It looked like she somehow got into an altercation with one of the men. She stabbed him and he shot her.”
“Taya’s working Cavallo?” Tripp scrubs a hand down his face, rubbing at his blond day-old growth.
“What?” I cock my head to the side, not sure what he means, although I recognize the name as well as recalling a connection to what happened to Anna years ago.
“Cavallo is a major mafia crime family, and when Anna was kidnapped, we discovered a warehouse much like what you just described, with women in cells.” Worry etches Tommie’s features and there’s an uneasiness in her tone. She’s walking toward me and this can’t be easy for anyone to hear, let alone a woman who herself had been a captive.
“At the time, the family was believed to be either in or getting into human trafficking,” Van says as if he’s coming to her rescue, and it gives me pause.
I glance back and she has stopped her approach, somehow stranded between the chair and me. Van stands at her side, placing a hand on her shoulder, and an unwanted and unexpected surge of jealousy zings through me. I want to be the one to comfort her.
“I’ll talk with NYPD Organized Crime Control Bureau and get the latest on what the family is up to. Taya has been known to do business with them.”
I shake away the confusing thoughts, totally in knots about Tommie, and obviously this ugliness with my mother is clouding my judgment.
“There’s more and it could be relevant to Cavallo. She told me a few days ago that she’s going to need me to come more often. I pushed for more details, but she wouldn’t tell me why.”
The room is silent while we mull over that piece of information and what it could mean. I don’t want to speculate if my mother might be selling women, and with me being a doctor, I quiver to think. The possibilities don’t sit well with me.
Tommie wears an empathetic expression as she sits back in her chair and crosses her legs.
“We’ll need you to get more. That’s not enough. Has she called you in yet? Do you know what she wants you to do?” Van moves to leans on the wall next to Ry.
He thrusts his hands in his pockets and it’s an aggressive gesture, as if trying to stop himself from doing some damage.
“I can do that. This morning was the first call since then and unfortunately, in line with what I’ve done before. Well, except for the woman that she wouldn’t let me treat, although
she wouldn’t have made it anyway.” I scowl at the memory of the horrific events that took place only this morning.
“Okay, team, we need to start a docket. You know the drill—not all of you will work directly on this but be prepared to jump in when needed.” Ry pushes off the wall, striding to stand beside me. “Tripp, you take point. Coop, I know you’re about to leave but I need you working on intel with Tommie until that point. We’re in the digging phase and need info fast.”
There’s a lot of murmurs and head bobbing as people shuffle out of the room. A few come up to Ry with questions and he steps away from me.
It’s strange, because nothing is any more solid than it was a few hours ago, but at least I feel better, more hopeful. Ry and the rest of HC are invested in this and action will be taken.
“You okay?” She nears and my heart squeezes at the concern swimming in her warm gaze. Why does she affect me like this?
“Yeah. Are you with what you just learned?”
“I don’t like it. Now I dislike your mother even more. But it certainly explains a heck of a lot where she’s concerned. I always wondered why you’d go to lunch with her and do stuff when it was obvious you don’t like her.”
I nod with a rueful smile. Tommie even asked me as much once or twice over the years and I always felt like shit dodging her questions.
She tugs on my sleeve and inches closer. “You could have told me, you know.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you,” I’m quick to say, feeling every bit the shit I hope she doesn’t think I am.
“I know.” She rubs at my arm and my heartbeat races. “What I mean is I hate the thought of you going through that for so many years, alone.”
“Yeah.” Ry steps right into our space, interrupting and not giving a damn. “Max, you’re not alone. Why did you think you had to play vigilante?”
His expression is hard despite guessing it comes from a good place and it only intensifies my defenses.
“It wasn’t like that. You and Tate were happy. Of course, I knew you’d protect her, but I couldn’t live with myself if Taya hurt my sister again. Or if…” I trail off, unable to finish the thought.
We both know what Taya is capable of and his countenance softens as does his tone. “And what if something happened to you? I promised your sister I’d take care of you, and how the hell would I be able to explain that to her?”
I shove my hands into my pockets, willing my balled fists to relax. “I wasn’t thinking of my safety.”
“I get it. You wanted to make it up to Tate for all those years you were in England and as much as it eats you up, she wanted it like that. You were safe thousands of miles away and she could breathe easy. I don’t agree with it. I would feel like you, man, if the roles were reversed and we were talking about Carys. I get it. But putting yourself in the fucking lion’s lair with that bitch is crazy and it’s going to blow your sister’s mind.”
I groan and rake a hand through my hair. Tate is going to kill me when she finds out what I’ve been keeping from her. I could tell her we’re even for all she kept from me when she was married to Bobby, but something tells me she won’t find it even remotely funny.
“Listen, just keep doing what you’re doing for now. I know you want to help those women and we’ll do what we can. I’ll bring in law enforcement, feed them what we can so we can make this legit. And most of all, make it stick.” Ry pats my shoulder and my phone buzzes.
I pull it out to find a text from the hospital. My patient has a fever. “Damn, I have to go.”
Tommie sighs, tugging once more on my sleeve, which she’s been holding all this time. “I wanted to talk.”
“Me too. Are you still good for the fundraiser tonight?”
“Yes.” She mock gags. “Pick me up at my place?”
“Yup.” I lean in to kiss her cheek. “Ry, let’s talk about how to tell Tate, I want to be there.”
He nods and as I turn to leave, Tommie grips my forearm to stop me, wrapping her arms around my neck. All the tension seeps out of my body. She pushes herself into me as if wanting to crawl inside and I almost lose my mind. If we were alone, I’d let her.
“And see you later.” She kisses the edge of my mouth and pulls away.
Max
After monitoring my patient and her fever, which is still there but steady, I go home to get ready for the hospital fundraiser and then instruct the driver to bring the limo to the front of the building. We’re going in the opposite direction to pick up Tommie and we need to get a move on. As I step into the elevator, a text comes in.
Tommie: Are you still good for tonight? Patient okay?
Me: Yes, all good. Coming to pick you up now.
Tommie: I’m still at the office. Can you pick me up here?
Me: Sure. What about your dress? Or are you slumming it tonight?